Chapter 45
By the next night Ron was feeling better about his mother. His father had come to visit, as he said that he would, that afternoon. Ron was right about the effect that it had on her. She brightened and did not cry while he was there. He even made her laugh. Harry never mentioned that Ron had come to see him. In the hallway, they shook hands again and Harry said that he would try to stop by most days. The hospital was very close and Ron suspected that Harry would keep these visits to himself. He was rarely at home and Betty was even more rarely given the privilege of knowing where he was.
Later that afternoon, the doctor stopped by and said that everything was holding steady and that there was no immediate reason for alarm. Jacob Gutberg had agreed to become her cardiologist under one condition: she had to stop smoking cigarettes.
“We’ll see about a treatment program to help you with that bad habit once we get you out of here. It isn’t an issue right now. There is no way that you could smoke in the hospital.”
Ron flashed back on his Aunt Dotty and how the two of them had snuck her out of her oxygen tent and down to the solarium for a cigarette after one of her heart attacks.
“I’m going to schedule you for a cardiac catheterization next week,” said Dr. Gutberg.
“What’s that?” said Marjorie.
“We run a very, very thin wire into your femoral artery and up to your heart. There is a camera on the end of it. It gives us an opportunity to see any blockages that you might have.”
“Will I be awake?”
“No, we’ll give you a light general anesthetic. The procedure will only take about fifteen minutes.”
“I can’t do it,” said Marjorie.
“There really isn’t anything to be frightened of, Mrs. Bombasco. Early next week, you and I can sit down and I will explain it all to you in detail and you can ask as many questions as you want.”
“Doctor, I don’t think that I can do it.”
“We’ll talk about that next week. Just remember that it is the best treatment option that we have to make sure that we are doing everything that we should be doing to help you get well.”
It took Ron an hour to calm her back down. He did it the same way that he confronted her agoraphobia. He talked with her using a soft voice and not being at all confrontational. He assured her that if she was not able to do it that there would be other things that they could do.
“What he’s talking about isn’t a treatment, Mom. It’s diagnostic and I’m sure that there are other tests that they can do that do not involve putting you out or giving you any needles.”
She held up the arm to which the heparin lock was attached. “Look at how black and blue I am already,” she said pitifully.
After he left the hospital, Ron headed straight for the French Maid. It was just getting dark as he got there and the place was almost empty. The girls worked shifts than ran from 12pm-6 pm and from 4 pm -10 pm and from 8 pm -2am. The middle shift was the least desirable because it started fast with the after work crowd and then sometimes was just slow and painful until the last couple of sets when it picked up. But by that time, the girls had been dancing in high heel shoes for a long time and they were really tired. Most of the girls tooted speed or cocaine to keep their energy level up, but eventually their feet just ached and throbbed so much that they did floor work. This entailed lying down on the floor and spreading their legs for the patrons, but at least it got them off their feet and usually it resulted in good tips.
Ron entered to the sound of Fly Like an Eagle and found a good seat. Because of the shape of the stage and the bar that ringed it, some seats were further away than others. There was also a raised perimeter area in the back with tables and chairs, but it had been empty both times Ron went to the place.
The guy who spun the records also acted as an announcer and he introduced each girl as she came out to begin her set. “And let’s welcome to your favorite and mine, Emerald.”
There was no applause. There were, at times, hoots from the some of the guys. When Ron looked up to get his first view of Emerald, his mouth dropped open. She looked just like Robin. She was slender with long straight blonde hair. She had a thin face and high cheekbones. Her breasts weren’t as big as Robin’s but she had the same legs and the same beautiful ass. Ron couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She walked across the stage with an easy rolling glide. She was wearing a tiny red skirt and a red pumps and an wisp like red bra that she could get away with because she was small breasted and did not to worry about them popping out. About two minutes into her set, Ron held up his first dollar. She looked at him and gave him a smile and sat down on the stage and swung her legs over the side and came over to him. She teased her nipples with her fingers as she stood in front of him and Ron watched as they hardened for him. He decided to give her two dollars. Five minutes later, he gave her two more and this time she removed her tiny red skirt and laid it next to him on the bar. The G-string was minuscule. By the end of her set Ron had given her $8. She walked over to him when she was finished and said, “May I have my skirt back?”
Ron looked down at it and saw that it had been sitting on the bar next to him the whole time. He had not taken his eyes off her long enough to even look at it. The girls sometimes perfumed their skirts and the men would sniff them while they watched the girls. “Yeah, of course,” he said quickly.
She rested her fingertips on his arm and looked into his eyes. Ron could see why she had chosen the name emerald. Her eyes were a deep green. “Thank you for being so generous,” she said and then she was gone.
Ron ordered another glass of wine and waited for her to come back. He watched the other girls disinterestedly. He checked to see how much money he had brought along with him. He had $30 plus what was on the bar. That meant that he had over $40. He could afford to stay there. When Emerald came back out, she had changed into a glittery white outfit but still was wearing the red pumps. She stood in front of him and then turned and bent over and shifted from one leg to the other. Ron’s eyes were glued to the way that her ass moved as she shifted her weight. Then he saw that she was looking at him from between her legs. He held up two more dollars and she smiled and wriggled off the stage to get it. “Will you have a drink with me when you are finished?” he said.
“This is my last set, sweetie, but tomorrow afternoon I’ll be at the Hitching Post in Paterson.”
Ron was disappointed but when she said where she would be, it had almost sounded like a date, an invitation. “OK,” he smiled. “I’ll see you there.”
She gave him a curious crooked little grin and pressed his hand against her small breasts when she took the money.