A Home Together

Diamond was really walking through the houseboat for the first time. Everything she owned was being put into place. In the hull, below the main deck, was her bedroom. It was a single bed, with a chest of drawers, but the bed was one of the best beds money could buy for a single sleeper. It was a narrow room as well. But that was all that would fit down there. Jack was next door, in a room no bigger. They would be sharing a bath, which had a bathtub and shower, and a nice long countertop with single sink. Lights were set up along the top which illuminated it brightly enough that she would be able to do her base make up prior to leaving for work.

"What do you think?" asked Jack.

"I . . . I have my own room," she sighed.

"That's it?"

"That's all that matters right now." She looked at him.

They stepped out into a small room where the spiral staircase led up to the main deck. Along one side was a wide large mirror with dancer's bar connected at the waist level.

"I thought dancers used poles," began Jack.

Diamond smiled. She found it sweet that Jack was now calling her a dancer and not a stripper. He didn't even call her an exotic dancer. It was just, dancer. It sounded, kind of . . . innocent.

"On stage, in most clubs, yes," she said. "But you don't learn dancing on a pole. You learn it on a bar."

"Can you show me? Or do you um . . ."

She smiled again. House Rule #1, no running around pixeled. No thong's, G-strings, toplessness, she was to be covered at all times with at least a bikini. But he really liked that sarong.

"But don't you want to see me?" She had asked. "I love you Jack, I want you to see me. I want to be able to show myself to the man I love. And maybe kiss you . . . a lot . . . while doing it."

"You know it would seriously turn me on . . ."

"Uh huh?"

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Courtship," he explained. "Is the process where we get to know who each other is, without deliberately tempting each other into woo hoo. But at the same time finding things to do in order to express the fact that we really love each other. I mean, if it had just been woo hoo from the first date, on, would you have started making me your wonderful peanut butter sandwiches?

"I'd have just worked more and more sexy clothing into our dates," she admitted. "Rosa had to tell me to make you lunch. I couldn't understand why you were doing it either. I just liked you doing it."

"You see Diamond," he continued. "I never really found out that much about Ariel. Even after she moved in and we were sleeping together. It was what we did instead."

"Why did you not court her like you were courting me?"

"I really don't understand it myself. I think it was just that we were already doing it and it really was hard to even to attempt to try to start it with her. If I tried something like writing her a little poem, she'd listen, but she would immediately come on or say, "That's sweet of you Jack, but I'm not in the mood."

"You never wrote me a love poem," she observed. She sounded just a little jealous and hurt.

"I wasn't really doing it well enough to even try it," replied Jack. "I only started doing it while I was living with Ariel. But Diamond. You know I will be talking with you about my work. About my stories."

She had liked his answer, but she was going to drop more than a few hints about the love poems.

"The dance bar is something we work with when we're in our sweats," explained Diamond. "It helps us limber up, get our bodies completely under control. I've told Rochelle that I have a bar now. She might come over some Saturday morning and we'll work out together down here. You won't have to worry, we'll be in our frumps."

"Kind of bugs me that Rochelle is still in High School," he sighed.

"But she's really a sweetie Jack, and you have no idea how hard it is for her to have friends."

"But you have to be somewhat outgoing to be any sort of performer, how could she . . ."

"Jack, you have to understand what we're up against. The larger portion of clubbers see us as just things to thrill them. We're a drug they take, and because it's such a superficial high, they have to come again and again and see us differently or see different girls to keep the high going. They use us and throw us away when they were done. We're just disposable for them. And to keep them just a little bit longer, we have to do what ever they demand. If it weren't for the fact that Rosa knows how to keep our acts different and varied, we'd be on poles and in their laps with their hands all over us like at most of the other clubs. Those are not nice boyfriends and a lot of ordinary girls get hurt by those guys because in the end, all girls become disposable to them."

Jack was listening. Jack was learning. "Pay no attention to my browser history," said the meme he had posted on his desk back. "I'm a writer, not a serial killer."

"It takes a really long time before we can be sure this clubber or that clubber, like Trey, are safe and maybe might be a nice boyfriend. But then they have their own problems because they often think we'll reject them and so they don't try or by the time we are ready to accept their advances, they inform us that they're going to be married and this is their last club stop before matrimony. That happened to Gabrielle just last spring. And then, the idea of introducing us to their parents? But in the case of Rochelle, any girl that finds out what she's doing could blab it all over the High School and in come the police and this time maybe it will be a full investigation and they'll discover just how good a fake ID Rochelle has or the girl gets jealous because she can't look as pretty as Rochelle does and starts trolling her in class."

"But you said it's all illusion!"

"They don't know that."

"But after that big flirty hey there to the entire football team, haven't any of them asked her out?"

"Jack? She was in stage costume. Most of them don't believe it was her because when she's in the class room, she's in stage costume there as well."

"Now wait a moment . . ."

"Jack, on the stage, she's a bunch of different things, glamorous model, high school sweet heart, secretary, nurse, hot date at the disco, old fashion bump and grind burlesque star? In school she's a frumpy mouse afraid of her own shadow and with an extremely low body confidence. She deliberately hides behind her gym locker door when she's changing for PE. The girls routinely mock her for it."

"Why would she be so shy?"

"She's acting Jack. It hides what she's doing. They don't believe it could be her that's up there on that stage. Questions are not asked. No one investigates that closely."

"Don't you girls think you're taking this illusion thing a bit too far?"

"If you had known, from the way I was acting, I was a dancer that first time you saw me in Funky's?"

"Ooo touché," sighed Jack. "And that would have been bad."

"It has it's place."

Diamond paused before something else came to her mind. "And how many mothers would become terrified if they found out their precious little daughter was hanging out with a dancer? She might even try it out?"

"But if it's so rotten?"

"Jack, it's not just a drug to the clubbers . . . it's a drug to us as well."

"What? Whoa! How?"

"You have no idea how thrilling it can be to hear a hundred guys screaming out how much they love watching you. You have no idea how much an ego boost it gives. Rochelle had no trouble bumping her way past the football team in front of all those physically fit cheerleaders in their perfect little outfits and beauty salon hair styles with their rich cream clean faces because she knew from a thousand male throats that she was the hottest most exotic most beautiful most divine vision there was. And because she knew that, the football team knew it to. It feeds itself, the more we think we're hot, the more they sweat. The more they sweat, the hotter we feel. Jack . . . when you complemented me on my dancing that first night . . . I really wanted to perform for you, just so I could get that ego boost, just so you could be my lover forever."

"Then why didn't you?" His writer's curiosity was piqued.

"Well for starters it was rather public and someone might have called the police. Even if that hadn't happened you would have blushed and left. I'd never have seen you again. Because you're not that kind of guy. And Jack? That's why I really love you." She sighed. "Of course that only makes me want to do it more."

"Oh pity me," sang Jack. Then he paused. . . "on second thought . . . don't . . . I'm having a hard time not liking that fact that you're having to exercise your will to not throw yourself at me while throwing your blouse and skirt at the mirror. But I suspect every girl really wants to do that with the man she loves."

"Pretty much, just I'll do it better."

Jack began to chuckle, "About that ego of yours."

Diamond was giving him her shy fawn look and gently swinging her shoulders back and forth. It was such a well placed denial of her ego that Jack began to suspect something else.

"That was an act too?" he asked, thinking of the first time they had met.

"This time," she said softly. "I'm really play acting. But then, it was really for real in a very real way. I just remember how it felt and so I can bring it back any time I want. That's what we do. The fact that I love you will probably improve my act on the stage."

"Why?"

"Because I'll be able to pretend you're sitting down there in front and center, and you're my only customer, and I'll dance for you in my mind . . ." her voice was very soft and silky smooth.

Jack looked at her for a moment.

"Diamond? Why are you acting like this?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "Because I lied to you when we first met. I lied about what I did and who I was. And I realized that if I was ever going to have the chance at being with you forever, which was what I want more than anything else in the world. I'd have to be completely honest about who I am and what I am and what I want to become. I'm going to try my best to be very open about what I'm feeling and thinking with you." She paused for a moment. "Rochelle told me that lies kill love. She's a very smart kid. I want the love to grow. So when I want to play act with you, I will, but you'll know I'm play acting. I hope . . . you'll like the fantasy girl on occasion. Because I like to play it with you."

"I like Diamond better," he said.

"But Diamond likes to play act. It's who she is. It's why she pretended to be a princess with a loose head right after Gabbi introduced us. How can you like Diamond without liking Diamond?"

"My head is starting to hurt trying to even think of an appropriate answer for that one," he groaned.

Jack and Diamond went back up the first floor, the main deck. It was a single room, almost the entire length of the hull. There was a small back deck and two narrow side decks where some outdoor benches were at. Jack liked to read in the sun. Past the front door was an area arranged like a living room with his long blue couch, wall mounted TV, Playstation, and nice radio stereo system. Then past that was a dining table which was fitted in the area next to the spiral staircase. Then they had the galley or kitchen. The whole thing was filled with porthole windows or bay windows.

"I'll be able to have my friends over won't I?" she asked.

"Why not?"

"They'll love that. So many of us are in Rabbit Holes." She paused. "Of course we'll have to plan. None of us has the same night off. But we can make plans in advance to spend a late morning here, a girl brunch!" She began to jump up and down with little hops. "And we can do work outs on the bar down stairs . . . and if we do it on Saturday and Sunday, Rochelle can join us."

And then it was up the stairs to the top deck. The back was an open porch with grill and picnic table. There were a few potted plants as well. But the front was completely enclosed with the pilot's wheel in the center with large full wall windows stretching all across the front. They were mostly fogged due to the cool weather. On either side were alcoves in which desks were nestled. One for Diamond and her projects, and one for him. And a long set of book shelves along one wall and two photos.

"Jack!" whimpered Diamond when she saw the first one. She reached out to it and gently brushed her fingers upon its frame. It was them on their date to the Fall Festival, back at the beginning of fall. Their last date before the exposé.

Neither of them knew who had put those files on Jack's desk. Enrico was convinced the local private detective O'Doole had something to do with it, but what could they do in retaliation? Gabrielle was convinced, for some reason or other, Diamond never could figure out why, that Ariel had put the folder there. But Jack argued that someone would have noticed Ariel. She simply stood out too much in her little mini-skirts and yellow jackets during the summer. Now that it was fall, she was walking around in a pink outfit which was a bit warmer.

But what it told Diamond was that Cocoa had been on to something. Jack was beginning to suspect it as well. "You would have thought Ariel would have wanted that photo taken down," he mused. "Or at least objected, and you would have thought I would have removed it. But she never did. She just put her photo next to it and acted as if that was all that was necessary. But I guess something was telling me that . . . you were way more important than I realized."

Diamond smiled and then turned. "Yes, and here's that shot of Ariel, a very posed shot, and dressed for the occasion," she observed. "No wonder she thought you wouldn't have to take mine down."

"Um," Jack coughed. "I was trying out photography and Ariel suggested she could model for me."

It was a very nice full length shot of Ariel standing next to the grass weave wall of the houseboat office, her right hand blowing a kiss, her left hand resting upon her hip. Her legs were just knocked a bit in a flirty pose and she was bereft of her yellow summer outfit, or fall for that matter.

"We really need to put this in an appropriate spot," suggested Diamond picking it off the wall. "Oops!" she said next as it fell into the waste basket. There was the sound of breaking glass. "I guess I dropped it. And now it's all cut and broken and torn. We'll have to replace it. Some day . . . maybe in a few years . . . or not." She paused and looked at Jack with a sweet little flirty expression on her face with a very rapid fluttering of eyes. "Until then you'll be needing some appropriate photos of me there," she suggested.

"After we're married," suggested Jack. "Courtship, remember?"

It was chilly, but they stepped out on the back upper deck porch and looked at the island stretching out before them.

"I'm glad I'll be able to live here," said Jack.

"Me to," she said leaning against him. "But not here."

"What?"

"The mists . . . I'm sure the mists hide an island we can move to, far away, safe from the bad things. When we can. I'll want to find it."

"Di? Darling? What are these bad things?"

"Horrible Ugly Bad Things," she whispered. "We must never let them find us. They'll . . . take us away from each other. They tried already. They'll try again. They never give up."

Jack woke up in almost pitch darkness. The alarm had not gone off. He was worried. He sat up, stepped off his bed, took a step forward and 'thunk'. He ran into the wall.

"Oh that's right," he sighed. "I've got half the bed room now that . . . Di . . . is living with me. She's probably still sleeping so I'd best be quiet."

He felt around until he found the light switch and turned it on. That was the problem with lower hulls in houseboats. There was no natural light. He noticed that that time was around eight. He was late for work! He frantically started dressing and got to the door and opened it and then heard the sounds of cooking upstairs. And the humming of Diamond. He closed his eyes and sighed. It was Saturday. He had no work today. And tonight, he had something special planned for Diamond. The big surprise he had dreamed of springing on her back at the beginning of fall could now happen.

He went into the bathroom and began the daily routines. He stepped out of the shower and noted that there were even more make up cases and lipsticks and rogues and face powders than he had remembered prior. And hair dryers. Combs and brushes and eh? What was . . . never mind. He hung it back up and made a note to remind her not to forget her costumes in the bathroom. He came up the stairs and could smell pancakes. Lots of them. She was churning them out in bulk. As he looked over she was dressed in sweats with tennis shoes.

"Going to the gym later?" he asked.

"Nuh uh," was her response.

"Just being an ordinary girl today?

"Nuh uh."

"But you're not in your regular clothing, what's up?"

The doorbell rang.

"Would you get that for me, darling?" she asked.

"Okay," he replied. He walked over to the door and opened it.

"Sul sul! Mr. Fearthegn!"

He looked and then lowered his eyes a bit and there was a teen age girl with a sprinkling of freckles just under her very bright green eyes in sweats and sneakers and dark sandy brown hair which hung down to her shoulders smiling at him.

"I'm Diamond's friend? Mabel Plitiskouphski?"

"It's okay honey," called Diamond.

"But Rosa told me never to tell a news man my . . ."

"He understands," called Diamond.

"Oh? Then it's Rochelle."

"Your real name is . . ."

"Yep! Middle name's Rochelle though, it works. I'm really glad you let Diamond move in with you. She's been so happy at work all week. We're even planning a new routine."

"Sounds simply thrilling," deadpanned Jack.

"Oh it will be, you'll see. It's not often we do duets so there will be some rehearsals before we're sure it works. Especially the part with the jack hammers. It might get too loud for the DJ to compensate."

She sauntered in.

"You don't want to know," sighed Jack. "You really don't want to know."

He closed the door.

"Mabel?" he muttered to himself "No wonder she picked Rochelle."

"Pancakes!" cried Rochelle. "With Strawberries?"

"Yeah, just started to learn how to make them. Jack really likes them."

"You still bring him his lunch?"

"Of course, he wouldn't miss that. I can go right into his office now and sit with him."

The doorbell rang. Jack turned around and opened it.

"Hello!" sang a fairy with baby blue wings. She was also in sweats and her hair was a reddish tinge and hung down mostly over one side. He noted she had a slightly larger than normal nose.

"And you are?" began Jack.

"Gabrielle, Mr. Weatherman, and I have a bone to pick with you."

Jack sighed. "I can only predict it, I can't control it."

"I know that!" cried Gabrielle. "It's the predicting that I have an issue with. Very esteemed gentleman with the film crew. Needed some entertainment for investors and your predictions ruined it! There I was, flying out of the kitchen with the cake, wearing only my powdered sugar and it rained! Matted my hair and washed all the sugar off. Not to mention ruining the cake. Ayumi was in tears at the piano! Do you know what it's like being pixeled in cold rain and dripping hair in front of rich investors and Starlight Shores Movie Producers?"

"Sorry, I hope it wasn't too embarrassing!"

"It certainly was! The sprinklers were supposed to wash off the powdered sugar, not the rain! How can I be a cute fluttery pixeled pixie when I can't control how I get pixeled? You really have to be more careful! A girl's career could be RUINED by something like that."

She flittered in.

Jack cautiously looked out the door. Were any more dancers going to show up?

"Come to breakfast darling!" called Diamond. "We're all here."

"I know you said you were going to have friends over Saturday," he observed. "I just had not anticipated it happening so soon."

"What other weekend do we have left this fall?" asked Diamond. She brought the servings of pancakes over to the table. "Winter is coming."

"And snowflake day," sighed Rochelle. Jack noted that depressed her.

"Don't worry honey we're going to have a party this year," said Diamond.

"We are?" asked Jack.

"We most certainly are," decreed Diamond.

"You just moved in and you're already taking over?"

"Mom did that too," observed Rochelle. "But a party would be really neat, Diamond!"

"I'm going to put the tree over there by the stereo," said Diamond pointing to an open spot between the half wall which separated the staircase from the stereo.

"But that's one of the windows we have a nice view out of," objected Jack.

"A Snowflake tree is prettier. And this will be the first time I've been able to have one in my own home," declared Diamond.

Jack was about to open his mouth to object when he heard the words, first, and home. This was going to be a very important time for Diamond. It was time to slay another monster. He sucked in his gut and pushed out his chest and imagined he had just drawn his sword.

"Mr. Fearthegn are you alright?" asked Rochelle.

"He does that every so often honey," explained Diamond. She had no idea why he did it either, but assumed it was one of those inscrutable man things she'd either figure out or stop him from doing eventually.

"Yes silly little quirk," sighed Jack struggling to not be embarrassed.

"Not really Mr. Fearthegn, it's a really sexy move when you're wearing a thin t-shirt. It doesn't even have to be cut high. Of course for the best effect you need to first rub an ice cube on your . . . "

"Diamond I have something special planned for us tonight so don't let me forget it," broke Jack in quickly.

"Yes dear," she said smiling.

"Oh you two are so domestic," chatted Gabrielle.

"So what are you three girls planning on doing this morning?"

"We're going to work out together," said Diamond. "Down at the bar and up there by the stereo. Then we will have to go to work after lunch."

"Oh yeah frabbit," groaned Jack. "I can't wait until evening, you'll be at the club. We're going to have to do it this morning. After breakfast, you can take a little break can you? Gabrielle and Rochelle can play video games while we clear the table for this?"

"Well Jack," began Diamond. "If we don't keep in shape . . ."

"Di, I know how important it is for you to be in top shape, but . . . this is really really really important."

"Not really really really really important?"

"If it isn't, will you stop your workout long enough to do it with me?"

"No," she replied. There was a twinkle in her eye.

"Then it's really really really really really really important."

"Wow . . . that's like important," she gasped holding her hands over her heart.

Rochelle looked at Gabrielle with a baffled look upon her face.

"Pillow talk dear," explained Gabrielle to Rochelle.

"I thought that began with 'was it as good for you as it was for me?' and that was when you lied and said it was great even though you're a little sore and the guy's mouth tasted like the cat had left a dead mouse in it," suggested Rochelle.

"That's a slightly different pillow talk," replied Gabrielle.

"Okay," said Diamond. "What must we do together?"

Jack smiled, walked around to the half wall that separated the spiral staircase from the rest of the living room and pulled out a green bucket with Llama banners in it along with a set of papers. He took out two sets of papers and put one set in front of Diamond, with a pencil, and put the other set on the table next to him. Rochelle immediately gasped because she recognized the forms.

"We're going to college tomorrow, together Di, and this is the aptitude test," said Jack.

"Oh Diamond!" jabbered Rochelle. "Oh Diamond this is so exciting you're going to have to tell me what's it's like I wish I was going with you but I have two more years of High School but oh you are so lucky Jack must love you so much because this is so expensive!"

"Come Rochelle," sang Gabrielle. "Time to play Grand Theft Auto!"

"And mock the dancers for their really cheesy moves?" asked Rochelle.

"Of course dear, it wouldn't be fun if we didn't do that."

Diamond was looking blankly at the form in front of her. She looked back up at Jack. There was uncertainty and indecision in her face. Almost fear. It was as if she didn't know if he was trying to tell her how wonderful she was or if he was mocking her. And the annoying thing was, given her background, she could come to either decision.

"Jack," she began. "I'm stupid. There's no way I could go to college."

By now Jack had come to the realization that Diamond was so firmly convinced of her own mental limitations he would not be able to argue her out of that idea. At least for a considerable length of time, such as a couple of years. Accordingly, he already had a counter argument he knew would work.

"Diamond," he began. "You don't have to be smart to go to College. You only have to have the money."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Wow, then that makes so much sense."

"What makes sense?"

"Our representative in congress. He's just an idiot. And he graduated from college. I never could understand that when I was growing up."

The she started to look sad …

"You call that a costume, you frabbin bitch!" shouted Rochelle from the couch.

"Jack . . . I can't afford to go to college. I need everything I have in case the . . ."

"Diamond, my lovely little grey elven princess," spoke Jack. "I'm taking you. I'm paying your way."

"Jack?" she gasped a sharp breath of air. "You can't possibly . . ."

"Diamond? Can you do math?"

"No!"

"Then how would you know if I could or could not afford it?"

"I don't know I . . . woman's intuition!"

"Try again."

"Oh Jack . . ." she began to look a little weepy. "Do you really think I'm worth it?"

"Think of it as a really expensive date," suggested Jack. "I'm taking you out for a really great date in which I'm going to spend the money on you like water because you're worth it. We'll be in the same dorm and just across the hall. And we'll major in the same subject. Communications."

"But Jack!"

"Diamond? You already have a lot of communication skills down pat. I mean, haven't you told me that you have really great body language skills?"

"Well on stage yeah, but . . . is that taught at college?"

"No," Jack paused. "At least I don't think it's taught by professors . . . frat houses now that I think of it . . . no . . . never mind. The point is that you've got a lot of the stuff they'll be teaching us in college already in your head from your time dancing. You'll do fine. I'll get my degree, you can get a degree with me, and we'll be together. And Bounder won't object to having a college educated dancer I suspect."

"Jack that's right! And I'll have all sorts of new costume ideas . . . walk out in a college graduation gown, and finish by pretending to cover myself with the diploma."

That wasn't what Jack was thinking of but so long as she was going with him, it would be worth it.

"Boring moves! I can't believe they have such boring moves! Let's just kill them and put them out of their misery!" argued Rochelle.

"Darling they're Starlight Shore dancers, you can't expect them to be any better," soothed Gabrielle.

"Then put them in a home for crippled dancers. Geesh, when the typical newbie dances in Scuzz on her first try, she usually does better than this!"

Diamond began to scribble on the form. Jack began to answer his. As he looked up, he noted she was getting more and more excited about the prospect. Apparently she was finding many of the questions answerable. But that didn't surprise him. If there was one thing he knew about Diamond now, it was that she was smarter than she ever suspected.

They finished the forms, and uploaded them into their computer. Shortly thereafter, the report came back. Jack had 24 credits, but Diamond had 18.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means that one of your semesters you'll have to take one more class than me," he answered. "It means you're going to be a classy girl in college."

"I think it means I love you," she said. And then she hugged him.