Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes by Dixie Cash Page A

again. Or if you don’t want to, tell me where they are and I’ll go over them by myself.”
    Edwina pushed a black satin sleep mask edged with red lace to her forehead and squinted against the light. “They aren’t in my bag. I thought you had them.”
    â€œDon’t tease like that, Ed. Look, you don’t have to get up. Just tell me where they are and I’ll get them.”
    Now Edwina sat up, the spaghetti strap of a red-and-black teddy falling off one shoulder. “Honest, I don’t have them. Don’t you remember the last night we worked on them at the shop? You said you’d take them because I, and I quote you here, ‘can be such a dumbass I’d probably forget them.’ End of quote.”
    The memory and her own words came back to Debbie Sue. Edwina was right. “Holy shit, Ed, what are we gonna do?”
    In a panic, Debbie Sue left the bed and began to pace, shaking her hands as if she were drying a fresh coat of nail polish. “We worked for hours on those speeches. We can’t get up in front of all those people without some notes or something.”
    Edwina yawned. “Hell, let’s just wing it.”
    â€œWing a ninety-minute program? Ed, your hair curlers are wound too tight.” Debbie Sue sank to the edge of the mattress in despair. “I had slides, I had handouts, forgodsakes.” Tears welled in her eyes. After seeing the insult on the sandwich board in the lobby, she had intended to knock their socks off with their presentation.
    Edwina dragged herself out of bed, took a seat beside her on the bed and looped an arm around her shoulder. “Now, now, don’t cry. I’m awake now. We’ll work on it. I remember pretty much what we were gonna say.”
    Debbie Sue sniffled and looked at her best friend, “But Ed, it’ll take all night.”
    â€œYeah, I know.” Edwina picked up a jar from the nightstand and began to slather gooey pink stuff on her face. “Just give me a sec to slap on another layer of this miracle cream. My face might look like Mother Nature tromped across it in golf shoes, but it damn sure won’t be because I didn’t put up a fight.”
    Spurred by a tiny stab of hope, Debbie Sue glanced at the digital clock. “Fuck, Ed. It’s twelve fourteen.”
    â€œPiece o’ cake,” Edwina said.
    â€œWe need paper.” Debbie sprang to her feet and began opening and closing drawers, finding a notepad featuring the hotel’s logo. “Yay!”
    And they began.
    At three thirty, they looked at each other and declared their second effort complete.
    â€œI don’t know if this is as good as the first one,” Debbie Sue said, “but it’s better than nothing. I saw a business center in the lobby. Their sign said they open at six. I’ll go down and type up these notes and use their copier.” Debbie Sue plumped the pile of more than thirty note pages into a neat stack.
    â€œWhat’s a business center?” Edwina said, stretching.
    â€œI read about it in the hotel brochures. It’s a complete office for guests only. You can use computers, copiers, printers—”
    â€œFax machines?” Edwina asked.
    â€œYeah, fax machines.” Suddenly Debbie Sue stopped and looked at her friend, “Good God almighty, Ed. We wasted the whole night. I could have called Buddy and had him fax our stuff to us. He could have gone to the sheriff’s office last night and sent it. We could have picked it up at six.”
    â€œShit,” Edwina growled, climbing back into bed and plumping her pillow. “Like I said earlier, I’m in a race with that bitch Mother Nature and she’s taken the lead again. I’ve only got four hours of sleep time left.”
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    Debbie Sue sprawled in one of the swivel chairs located in the business center as she read to herself. She had awakened at five, showered and dressed; then she had