Lucy awoke from her slumber, not knowing how long she had been unconscious. Her head pounded as she lifted it to check her watch, trying to get some idea of the time. Unfortunately, the watch was broken.
With great difficulty, she tried to remember where she was and how she had ended up on the ground. No ideas came to her right away. All she could tell from looking around was that she was in the middle of a parking lot, and it was a warm, humid afternoon.
She pushed herself up into a standing position and brushed her dirty clothes off. Looking around, she noticed that the parking lot was bordered on one side by a busy-looking expressway, and on the other side by a seedy-looking, neon-lit building. Other than that, there wasn't much around other than some palm trees and a few other nondescript buildings.
"Where the heck am I? This doesn't look like Glenoak."
Lucy heard some muffled musical sounds coming from the seedy-looking building, and she figured she might as well check it out. Maybe someone inside could help her to find her way back home.
She entered the black doors and found herself in a deep purple-colored entryway. A blond stood behind a counter staring at Lucy cynically. "May I help you?"
Lucy looked around and tried to figure out where she was. She saw an opening into a large back room, from which she could hear loud, bass-heavy music pumping. From the sounds of ice clinking around in glasses, it also sounded as if drinks were being served.
"Ahem, ma'am! May I help you?"
Lucy snapped her focus back onto the girl behind the counter. "I'm sorry. I'm kind of lost right now. Could you tell me where I am?"
The girl smirked and chuckled sarcastically. "You're at a gentleman's club."
"A what?"
"An exotic dancing emporium."
Lucy looked at her blankly.
"Hon, you're at a strip bar."
"Oh!" Lucy covered her mouth in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! I shouldn't be here."
"Whatever," the blond said disinterestedly as she picked up a gossip magazine.
As Lucy turned to exit the club, she bumped into someone coming in.
"Oh, pardon me…Luce?"
Lucy apologetically looked up at the person with whom she had just collided.
"Sorry, it was my fault…Mary? What are you doing here?"
Mary put a hand on her hip. "I'm working. And I think a better question is, what on earth are you doing here?"
"I walked in here by accident…wait a minute, you work here? I thought you worked for JetBlue."
"Not anymore."
"And when you say you 'work' here, you don't mean you 'strip' here, do you?"
Rolling her eyes, Mary answered, "Yeah. Look, you're not going to tell Mom and Dad, are you?"
"Mary! Why on earth would you 'work' in a place like this?"
"Oh, please don't start, Luce. Listen, the money's great, and it's not so bad. It's safe, and once you get used to it, it's actually kind of fun."
Lucy shook her head back and forth. "I can't believe this. I always defended you, you know."
"What are you talking about?"
"Whenever Ruthie or Mom made a comment about you always making bad decisions, I used to stick up for you. But not anymore. I can't believe you would do something this disgusting for a living!"
"What's so bad about it, Luce? Men pay me a lot of money just to watch me take my clothes off. They never touch me, and it's all legal, so what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is that it's a sin! Men are coveting you! You're selling your flesh!"
Mary sighed. "I'm not selling my flesh. I told you, the men aren't allowed to touch me. They just look. Now will you please step off your moral high horse for a minute and give me a hug? After all, you're my little sister, and I haven't seen you in months!"
"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. Where are my manners…OW!" Lucy cried out in pain as Mary embraced her.
"Luce, what's wrong? Are you feeling okay?" Mary asked with concern.
Lucy rubbed her temple gingerly. "I'm not sure. I just woke up a few minutes ago in the parking lot, and I have no idea how I got here. Something must have knocked me out and wiped out my memory."
"Geez, that sounds pretty serious. Maybe we should get you to a hospital."
"No! Not if you're Mary's sister," the blond behind the counter spoke up suddenly.
"Excuse me, Sheba, but I really don't think this is any of your business," Mary commented with irritation.
"I'm telling you, she doesn't need a hospital."
"Well how would you know?"
Sheba shrugged. "She just needs to dance. Then she'll be okay."
Mary looked at her incredulously. It wasn't often that she found herself on the delivering end of a sentence questioning someone's mental capacity, but on this occasion it seemed necessary. "Um, pardon my rudeness, Sheba, but that is by far the stupidest thing I have ever heard. First of all, dancing is not going to cure what might be a concussion. And second of all, my sister is only twenty years old. She's not even supposed to be allowed to enter a place like this, let alone work in one."
"I know, it sounds crazy; but trust me. If your sister goes in there and shakes what her mama gave her, she'll feel just fine."
"OK, what is wrong with you. Have you been eating mushrooms or something…"
"Wait, Mary," Lucy interjected.
"No, this is really pissing me off, Luce. You might have a serious medical condition, and she's over here telling you to dance when, instead, she should be calling an ambulance. Hint hint!" she said while glaring at Sheba.
Lucy looked from Mary to Sheba and asked, "Why do you think I should dance?"
"Because, look at you! You're wound tighter than a jack-in-the-box, always worrying about your cop fiancé running off with his partner. Why can't you just accept that he loves you and doesn't want anything to do with her?"
"Because she's a temptress and she's always trying to seduce him…hey, wait a minute. Do I even know you? How do you know all this stuff about me?" Lucy turned to her sister and slapped her arm angrily. "Mary, do you go around blabbing everything I tell you in confidence to strangers?"
Mary blushed. "Whoops. Sorry about that. But I still don't understand how dancing is going to help Lucy's concussion."
Sheba smiled. "It's not a concussion. It's a stress-induced migraine, possibly from worrying about that double-date she and Kevin have with Roxanne and Chandler tonight."
"Okay, what are you, a psychic medical doctor who can make diagnoses from across the room?" Mary snarked.
"And speaking of psychic, how did you know I have a double-date tonight? I never even told Mary about that."
Mary turned to Lucy with surprise. "Wait a minute, you really are going on a double-date tonight?"
Lucy nodded.
"With the exact people she mentioned?"
"Yes."
A freaked-out expression passed over Mary's face. "Oh, man, this is too weird."
Sheba walked out from behind the counter and placed her hands on Lucy's shoulders. As she did, Lucy felt a warming sensation come over her. She wasn't sure why, but suddenly she knew that Sheba was right. Lucy needed to dance.
"Get away from my sister, you hallucinating freak!" Mary bellowed as she balled up her fists and jumped into fighting position.
Sheba removed her hands from Lucy's shoulders and placed them on Mary's. "Ah, Mary," she sighed. "If only you understood the full irony of that statement. Please just be calm, and trust me."
Mary relaxed and dropped her fists. She looked at her sister, and then turned back to Sheba. "Fine. I'm not sure why I'm going along with this, but I'll let her dance. But if she feels weak out there, or if she feels even a little bit of a headache after she's done, then we're taking her to the hospital right away. No arguments!"
Sheba smiled. "That's fine, Mary. Now, Lucy, let's get you into costume."
***
A/N: This chapter contains a crossover with my other fic, "When She Dances", in which Mary takes a job as a stripper in Fort Lauderdale. You might want to read that story to get further background for this chapter.