Will the Real Monday Knight Please Stand Up?

By Helen Kay 

Helen glanced at the slender shape of her friend Monday Knight, silhouetted in the full-length mirror, and frowned. Why did Monday have to look so damn good in everything? Even a moo-moo showed off her gorgeous, athletic body.

She curled her lip in mock disgust. "God, if you weren't such a sweetheart

it would be sooo easy to lose your sorry butt at the airport!" It wouldn't be hard. The poor dear was still wrapped from chin to forehead in

bandages.  

Helen chuckled. It's probably hubby's way of keeping the men from ogling her! 

"Oh, do I look that bad in this?" Monday wailed. "I thought it would be

a good disguise."  

Helen cringed at the hurt in her friend's voice. At the same time, she

recognized the quiet tone that seemed to call out to members of the

opposite persuasion and wondered how long before a man appeared. They invariably did whenever Monday opened her mouth. She shifted her gaze to the door and counted to three. What? No man? Monday must be losing her touch!

Helen's own husband was not any better than the rest. He said he had to lean in closer to hear Monday's soft-spoken, melodic voice--he said it had nothing to do with the twin set of Mount St. Helen's Monday sported. Right. 

Helen put her hands on her hips and sighed dramatically, angry at her own irrational thoughts. Monday couldn't help it if she was beautiful. "Monday, really, you look fabulous. The getup is perfect. No one will recognize you at the airport. Really. It'll be fun!" She applied mascara to her eyelashes and batted them at her reflection in the mirror. "You're beautiful,fabulous...and I hate you...satisfied?" 

Monday pouted prettily and Helen wondered anew why it was that some women just naturally looked fabulous. She glanced at her own body and a shiver ran down her spine. Something sure as hell had gone wrong since high school. She looked from all angles. Yup...facelift, tummy tuck, boob job...hell, she'd gladly be the Botox Queen if given the chance. She eyed Monday again.  

Maybe that was it. Who the heck would know...Monday was married to a surgeon. She's probably been getting facelifts since the age of 21! 

"I just had a horrible thought," Helen said, as she flipped the mascara

wand back in the tube and tapped Monday on the shoulder with it. 

Monday whirled around quickly. "What thought?" 

Helen dropped the mascara into her new beach bag and slipped on the

pair of bright orange flip-flops that matched her bathing suit. "That everyone is simply going to love your watermelon boat better than they liked mine!"  

She grabbed the pink flip-flops with the huge yellow daisies on the top, a

perfect match to the flouncey moo-moo, and helped Monday slip them on.

"Now, let's go. The gang's waiting and the plane's motoring down the runway." 

A knock at the door sounded and Helen reached out to open it. Manuel stepped inside. He eyed her up and down in the svelte one-piece and smiled. "Limo's here. Not packing a .45 in there anywhere are you?" Helen rolled her eyes and he grinned. "Don't make me frisk you," he added. 

She laughed out loud and smiled devilishly. "Gosh Manuel, I thought YOU

were the one packin'!" 

The handsome young man had been Monday's personal guard for the past

three years. Nothing and no one got past him. Not an over zealous fan, or an

old friend. He was good at his job and he knew it, so a certain cockiness

simmered beneath the surface and he occasionally shot Monday and her

friends knowing looks that held both tease and please qualities. Helen bit the side of her mouth and drew in a partial breath. "Damn, that cologne has got to go." 

"You don't like it?" 

Helen lowered her sunglasses and stared at him hard. "Love it," she

mouthed, then puckered up and blew a kiss his way. 

Manuel chuckled. "I'll try to keep a distance." 

"Good idea." 

Turning, Helen grabbed Monday by one voluptuous flowered sleeve and pulled

her toward the door. "It's crap to be late for your own par-tay! And it's not

every day we jet-setters throw a pool party and everyone can make it, ya

know?" With her free hand she motioned toward a picnic basket and

watched the play of muscles beneath the young man's shirt as he reached down to scoop it up. Nothing like money to get you from one place to the next--in

style--and Monday had plenty of it to go around. 

"I know, I shouldn't worry," Monday said, drawing their attention. Her voice

came out in that breathy Ginger-from-Gilligan's-Island-way that Helen

had almost gotten used to, and which always stopped men in their tracks.

Especially Manuel. "In fact, I'm kinda glad I don't have any work right

now." 

Helen watched the sympathetic look cross Manuel's tanned face and wondered at

the ignorance of husbands. A young'un like Manuel--with all the right

moves and all the right...stuff--was a hell of a threat when one's husband

was far, far away and a woman needed company. Manuel read Monday like a book.

And it wasn't just the awe of being near the great Monday Knight, most well-known model in all of history. He might flirt and joke around, but in reality

he didn't see anyone else when Monday was in the room. 

Imagining where Manuel's eyes would be if Monday walked in front of him,

Helen nodded at Manuel to walk ahead of them to the limo. For a moment, she

hated herself for thinking there was a chance hanky-panky would ensue.

Monday was just too darn sweet and she loved her husband to death! Straightening her shoulders, she vowed to be a better friend. 

"Having some free time is perfect for you right now," she said, playing

along with Monday's lie. "These bandages spell freedom. You've said so often

enough yourself, your face is a prison. If you weren't in bandages I'd have to leave you home. Lucky you! Now let's take advantage of it. Before you know

it, that hubby of yours will be throwing those bandages into the fireplace and you'll be back to your beautiful, gorgeous self and I'll be out shopping for huge straw hats and outlandish sunglasses to hide your face so you can go

back in public without being mobbed. God, girl, take advantage of the day!"  

She knew Monday relied on her creamy complexion and beautiful face and

worried that it would be marred from the accident. Who wouldn't? Monday's

face was what had landed her the top modeling jobs in the world and

what would continue to keep that seven digit income rolling in...then again,

that body of hers wasn't bad either. 

"Where's Vanessa?" Monday reached out a well-manicured hand, an edge of

concern tingeing her voice. "Helen...?" 

"I'm right here, Monday," Helen said, grabbing her sightless friend by

the arm. "You're okay, Hon. Vanessa's supposed to meet us at the airport

bar...we'll have to drag her butt out of there if we don't hurry. She's

of the opinion that if you're alone, you drink alone, so she'll be

snookered." 

Monday laughed.. "I hope so -- she's so funny when she's drunk!" 

Two hours later they were seated in Monday's plush jet. Manuel catered to

their every need--including a couple Excedrin for Vanessa who was warding off

the I-drank-too-much-already headache. 

Helen braved a peek out the window and pulled her head back quickly as the

wing rose up to meet her. Slight turbulence rocked the aircraft. She'd

never liked flying, and suddenly wished her face was the one bandaged. 

"Monday, you're the lucky one," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. "I

wish I couldn't see right now!" 

The plane lurched and Vanessa groaned. "Damn, somebody get up front and show

Fly Boy how to handle this airplane or I'm going to have to open a window and get some fresh air. And I guarantee no one is gonna like that maneuver." 

"Oh, turbulence," Monday whispered. "I'm glad I can't see! I hate it

when the weather gets bad up here." Her voice, always sensual, had taken on a

slight vodka slur accompanied by a girlish giggle. Turbulence got to everyone, bandaged faces or not.  

"Aw, well, nothing a little vodka can't cure," Helen slurred back and

was rewarded with another of Monday's contagious giggles. Soon they both

were caught up in a belly roll that had nothing to do with anything...well,

perhaps the vodka. 

"Enough already," Vanessa moaned, draping one arm across her eyes. "If you

guys are gonna keep cackling like a couple of hens over there the least you

can do is offer me a drink too." She swallowed, a grimace on her face.

"Oh, looking at all those black...moving...clouds...wicked lightning...is

making me sick." 

"Want me to tape your face up, too?" Helen asked cheerfully as she sipped her

Absolut and Coke. 

Vanessa’s hazel eyes popped open and stared at Helen over the sleeve of a

light blue bathing suit cover-up. A grin passed from one to the other. They

looked at Monday and Vanessa shrugged. "Why not?" 

Long before they spotted the Virginia coast, they'd planned a little

game for Janet's party, and being such good pals, they knew the entire party

would go along with their outrageous idea. The thunderstorm was forgotten as

they poured another drink and examined the First Aid kit for supplies. 

Two hours later, Fly Boy managed to drop the plane onto the correct airstrip

without losing a drop of vodka--or Vanessa's last meal--and before they'd

been in the airport lobby for more than ten minutes, Manuel had collected 10

rolls of white bandage tape from first aid. 

"Wow, they gave you all they had?" Helen asked, her eyes growing wide in

appreciation of a job well done. 

"I told them Miss Knight needed it," he answered proudly. 

Vanessa held up her hand and Manuel high-fived her. "Good going, Manny!" 

Manuel smiled. "No problem. Now, out to the limo...you ladies have a party to

attend." 

When the limo drove into Janet's driveway, even Manny had a hard time keeping

a straight face. They'd insisted he stop twice to assist them in their latest

endeavor and heaven help them tomorrow morning when they had to unravel all

that tape! For sure Vanessa would be bald, she'd insisted Manny wrap it

all the way around her head! Now only a short crop stuck out at the top of

her head. And eyelashes. OMIGOD! Helen tugged at the ponytail at the back

of her head and attempted to smile, but nothing moved. One thing was for sure: this tape stuck good! 

"Manny," she called through gritted teeth. "Help." 

"Now what?" 

"Quick, before the girls come out front!" 

"What do you need?" 

"EYES!" 

"Eyes?" 

"Here, in my purse," said Monday. "There should be some black eyeliner

and light gray shadow. Paint eyes on us." 

"And lips!" 

"Lips! Oh, come on," Manuel argued. "I'm not an artist." He tried to be firm,

but he couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up when he looked at the

three of them. "You look like three blind mice." 

"Oh, I know," Monday declared. "Put the lipstick on and then kiss each

one of us and give us your lips!" 

Superb idea! Helen noticed Manuel didn't argue anymore. When he was

finished, Vanessa decided he should go ring the doorbell and they'd wait until someone came to get them. 

"Well, we can't see! Anyone else got any ideas?" 

No one had, so Manuel clamped his jaw shut and headed for the door. 

"Vanessa, would you give me another one of those melon balls?" Monday's

sultry voice had turned, if possible, more sensual. 

"God, Monday, you make me sick," Helen announced. "Can your voice get

any sexier? No more for you. Give me that ball." 

"Ut-ut my dear," Monday purred as she wrapped her arms around the watermelon

boat. "I made it." Reaching into the boat, Monday fingered the fruit until

she found a round piece and then raised it to the vicinity of her lips,

smooshing it between the slit left as a mouth. Her coordination was off

and juice sprayed as she ground the fruit into her face bandage. "Shoot...missed," she chuckled. 

Suddenly the door popped open. 

"What in the..." Tina Kitten looked from one to the other and eyed the half-empty bottle of Absolut and Monday's hand in the watermelon boat.

"How much have you had already?" Her question met with more laughter. 

Tina laughed. "Will the real Monday Knight please stand up? OMIGOD! You

girls are a riot! I knew you wouldn't wait for us!" She produced a half-empty

bottle of Skyy vodka and smiled. "We didn't wait either!" 

After another five minutes filled with hugs and hellos, everyone moved toward

the back yard. Vanessa attempted to high-fived Manuel again, who was

now half-supporting her, missed and almost knocked them both down. 

"Hey ya'll...what ya doin'?" Janet called for the backyard. "Everyone's

out back waiting for you! Were you able to talk Monday into coming?" 

She pulled open the gate and gasped. Not one Monday, but three met her

openmouthed gaze. Two had on bathing suits, which they presumably wore

on the plane trip over, and one had on a moo-moo. 

"Dorothy," she called, "look, Monday was able to come!" 

Dorothy, unable to keep from laughing could hardly speak. "I'm...hahaahah... so glad ...hhaah....you could make it!" She leaned against the fence and held her side and wiped the tears from her face. 

Myriam and Babs crossed their legs to keep from wetting their bathingsuits

and laughed louder. "You brought Monday and Monday! What a surprise!" 

By this time, everyone was laughing so hard they couldn't move. Manuel

called to Don, who was in the kitchen refilling the ice bucket, to come help

support the drunkards he'd delivered. After that, the par-tay began in earnest. It didn't take long to talk Dorothy, Janet, Babs, Myriam, and Tina into taping their faces as well. Don opted not to go that route, though he insisted on being the one who did the lips this time. 

"Nope, nope," he said, holding his hands out and backing up. "Someone

has to be sane." He winked at Manuel. "Besides, who's gonna help you find your suits again after the skinny dipping?" 

"Oh, well, you haf a point der, " Tina agreed. "I can see too much." 

Manuel put his arm around Tina. "You can't talk real well, either." 

"Soo much to dring," she answered as she fumbled around for the straw and took another large gulp. 

"No kiddin'..." Janet answered. "Whee! I don’ member when I shrank so

much!" 

"Wat times zit?" Dorothy stood up and turned to walk into the house, then

remembered she couldn't see. "Oh...Don, Sug, hep me." 

"Be there in a minute!" Don winked at Manuel. "Was this your idea?" he

whispered. 

Manuel shook his head. "Hell, no. They came up with this all on their own!" 

"Well, it was funny, but how the hell we gonna get that tape off them

without ripping their hair out?" 

Manuel looked at him in bewilderment. "I don't know." 

In the end -- after several hours of swimming in which Don talked incessantly

about his flesh colored latex bathing suit that everyone was glad they hadn't

seen first hand -- to everyone’s relief the tape softened and literally fell

off their faces. Everyone's, that is, except the real Monday Knight. 

 

It’s long past the time for Monday’s tape to come off. She can’t keep hiding behind it. Will she have to see a “shrink” to really “come out”?