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when it was over, Charlie kissed her sweetly on the forehead, and that made her smile.
    “You wanna get some breakfast?” Dee Dee asked, her naked body chest down on bed.
    Charlie looked over at the clock on the table; it was 12:26 p.m. “Breakfast? Sure you don’t mean lunch?”
    “I like to have breakfast when I wake up. Do you like waffles? I know a really good place just down the street that makes them fresh all day,” Dee Dee said as she stood, naked as the day she was born, and walked to the bathroom of the double-wide trailer. Dee Dee—who’d mentioned that her real name was Deandra, but she actually preferred Dee Dee—had told Charlie the night before, “It isn’t exactly The Palms,  but there aren’t a whole lot of options for lodging in the area because of all the Mud Men,” what she called the oil drillers. 
    Charlie leaned over the side of the bed and reached for his pants, which were lying in a pile under his shirt and hat to dug out one of his Al Capone cigarillos. As he rolled onto his back again, the faint taste of the rum-dipped tip on his lips when he noticed the “No Smoking” sign on the table. He wondered what kind of foot traffic a person needed to have in their place to find the need for one of those signs. Charlie let the thought pass and nestled the cigarillo behind his ear. He reached down again and grabbed his wallet.
    “What the fuck are you doing?” Dee Dee said from the bathroom door, still naked, her chest very much embodying her stage name, blonde hair hanging loose and flowing over her shoulders. She had a toothbrush in her mouth, so the words game out a bit garbled and Charlie couldn’t quite make out what she said.
    “What?” he asked.
    “What’s with the wallet, Charlie?”
    Charlie cocked his head in confusion.
    “Either you’re checking to see if I stole from you or you’re getting money out to pay me, as if I’m some fucking whore.” She stomped back into the bathroom, slammed her toothbrush back onto the counter, and spat into the sink with a wet splat .
    Charlie just sat up in the full-size bed, covered in less than discreet black sheets and watched Dee Dee in the bathroom. She was still naked, which made the whole thing pretty funny looking; he had seen quite a share of things in his time, but he’d never seen a naked girl throw a tantrum. Her nudity aside, she looked like an entirely different person from the night before. After she’d left the club with him, they’d gone out for a drink at a bar Dee Dee selected. Charlie hadn’t said much, content to let Dee Dee go on and on about her family and aspirations. Charlie liked listening to her; she’d sounded excited, as if no one had ever asked her about herself. She told Charlie about high school and not fitting in, about her deadbeat father, about how scary it had been to move out to California, but being even more scared to move back to North Dakota.
    Upon their arrival at her trailer, Dee Dee was a little friskier than Charlie. He had tried to take things slow, which seemed to confuse her. He led her to the shower and tenderly kissed her lips and neck, wiping away the layers of makeup, effectively stripping away the person she had to be onstage. Those green eyes of hers had looked so vulnerable, so wanting. 
    Her eyes were anything but vulnerable as she stomped around the trailer; rather, her emeralds were replaced by burning gasoline. Charlie figured it best just to wait and let it play out. Charlie knew a thing or two about burning oils and force was almost never the way to let it burn out.
    “Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself or not?” Dee Dee asked as she stomped back into the room and tossed things around, looking for her underwear and pants. For a trailer, Dee Dee lived pretty well in the double-wide, four bedroom, two bathroom model. It was a heck of a lot bigger than the trailers Charlie grew up in. Though for all the space, there was barely a personal item in the place. No