Chapter 21 #2
The firefighter set Mom in the chair and resumed his place dancing with the others.
“What’s your name, pretty lady?” the captain asked, leaning the microphone into Mom.
“I’m Ophelia. Maggie Maxwell’s mom.”
“Well, isn’t that nice.” The captain looked to me and smiled. “Now, Ophelia, have you been a good girl this year?”
“Yes. I think so.” Mom sat, prim and proper, her purse on her lap, clutched between two gloved hands like she was afraid it was going to run away.
“Glad to hear it!” Nettles leaned in and whispered something else into her ear.
Mom brought her hand over her mouth and gave him that look she gave me when I’d bring up my dildo collection. But then, after a moment, she let out a deep breath, shut her eyes tight, and nodded.
“Alright, boys. We got the go-ahead!” He handed the mic to a member of the crowd, then stood facing her. He grabbed the belt of his robe.
‘Tis the Season to be a Baddie played over the speaker and Nettles swung his belt in circles, then spun so his ass was in Mom’s face. He swayed it back and forth.
Oh, God.
He then took his robe off, bare-chested, and pelvic thrusted around her.
The other emergency responders—Graham included—followed his lead and basically made a chain moving in unison around the float, each taking their turn doing their own moves, grinding up against, twerking, thrusting… everything in my Mom’s face.
I thought I was going to die. I thought she was going to die.
But to my surprise she was fucking smiling—enjoying every second.
I glanced over to my family who looked the same as I did—mouths covered, mortification—except for Daddy and Mary, who were both keeled over holding each other up, tears streaming down their faces, laughing their asses off.
Then Mom did the unthinkable. She opened her purse and slipped dollar bills into each of their waistbands as they passed her.
“Suga’, when I told her to loosen up, this ain’t what I meant.” Annie cackled.
The men dispersed into the crowd, bumping and grinding on the townspeople like it was just a regular fucking day.
Graham danced his way over to me, stopping by the waving fists of dollar bills to give a quick little grind for their donations. When he got to me, I forgot what breathing even was.
Jesus Christ.
This man rolled his stomach and dropped his hips in perfect rhythm with the music.
Annie screamed, fanning herself, while she searched her purse for her cash. “You din’t tell me yous was a belly dancer, Graham!!”
Even though it was December and there was snow on the ground, it felt like it was a thousand degrees every time I looked at Graham.
He was fucking hot. It took everything inside of me not to jump his bones right there.
He pressed up against my body, towering over me—intimidating.
My cheeks flushed red. I had my first hot flash. My pussy. Instantly wet.
I covered my face and squealed as he put his arm around me, lifting me slightly, carrying me through the crowd like I was a part of the act—thrusting and grinding against me, setting me down only long enough to do a little belly roll and hip drop for the next paying customer, then lifting me again to move through the crowd.
The scent of his cologne mixed with the salt of his sweat, the evergreens, and spice in the air was enough to make me pass out.
“You better go save your mom, cupcake.” He chuckled and gestured to the float.
Mom had taken her coat off and was now swinging it around her head, bumping butts with Nettles.
“Oh, my God.”
The song ended and the crowd screamed and waved fists full of cash to be collected.
“I’ve gotta job to do.” He slapped my ass and dove into the crowd as the next song started.
I blew out a long breath.
“Your mom is kinda cool, Mags.” Katie gestured to her.
“Would have been kinda nice to know the Christmas Jamboree parade involved a fucking stripshow, Kates,” I yelled over the music.
“Oh, it’s fine, she fits right in. Look.”
I glanced back to the stage. Mom was up there swinging in circles, her top now unbuttoned past her bra and her pencil skirt hiked up on her thighs.
Oh shit!
I pulled out my phone and group texted my family.
Meet us back at the manor.
Then I went up to the float and helped Mom down.
“Maggie, that was so thrilling!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Mom,” I said, only partly mortified. “We need to get back to the manor, though.”
Getting back through the crowd was its own event—Annie bumped butts with the dancing townspeople in passing, Mom still humming and swaying, me steering them both toward Segman’s Street like I was herding cats.
“Fa, la, la, la, la…” Mom sang the whole way home, bopping her head side to side with a stupid grin screwed onto her face.
“What the fuck was that?” I stared ahead, gripping the wheel. “I don’t want to hear another word about my promiscuous lifestyle. I didn’t just shake my ass in front of the entire town with the police captain.”
“You told me to lighten up, so I did. It was only a dance.” She casually buttoned her shirt back up. “It won’t happen again. Besides, Jethro was a hoot.”
“No. It was just… different. Unexpected. That’s all,” I said.
“Well, darling, I did have four children. How do you think that happened?”
“God, I don’t even want to think about how I got here.”
When we got back to the manor, Hunter was already there and met me at the car.
I opened the door and got out. “Hey, baby, you’re early. How did it go?”