motels of yesterday became the sites of today’s clandestine trysts.
A clapboard building with a Confederate flag-bearing sign proclaiming JOHNNY REB’S
SOUVENIRS made Lily think of the chenille peacock bedspreads that gave this road its nickname. Thewindows had been painted with yellow block letters reading BEDSPREADS, DISHWARE, and CIVIL
WAR GIFTS. Lily couldn’t tell if the store was closed for the day or for good.
As she drove north, toward Fort Oglethorpe, the roadside attractions took on a seedier appeal.
Concrete block taverns called SHOOTERS and COWBOY’S appeared to be doing a good business,judging from the number of pickup trucks in the parking lot. One bar, the PINK PUSSYCAT, evenclaimed to have EXOTIC DANCERS. Lily wondered what passed for exotic in rural northern Georgia.
On her right, exactly where Jack said it would be, was a small brick building with a large signannouncing TATTOOS BY HONEY. Smaller signs on the Store’s windows proclaimed, HEALTH
BOARD APPROVED and TATTOOS WHILE U WAIT. Lily pulled into the small gravel parking lot andtook a deep breath.
Walking into a roomful of people had never been her favorite thing, and since Jack’s red truck wasnowhere to be seen, she’d be walking into a room full of strangers. She considered going home for a dullevening alone with Mordecai, but finally said to herself, “Goddamn it, if I can do aerobics with a bunchof straight Southern Baptist women, surely I can find the courage to walk into a roomful of dykes.”
She walked around to the rear of the building, as Jack had told her to do, and knocked on the backdoor. It felt so secretive. She wondered if there was a secret password, like Sappho or something.
A full-figured, fortyish woman with wavy, naturally golden hair answered the door. Lily noticedright away that the woman’s arms were completely covered by tattoos: a medieval unicorn resting in agarden of vibrantly colored flowers, a fairy with diaphanous wings sprinkling stardust with her magicwand, and a frog in a golden crown squatting philosophically on a lily pad. The designs were morefanciful than what Lily would have chosen for herself, but the artwork was undeniably beautiful.
“Hey,” the woman said, grinning. Her face was as round, flat, and wide-eyed as a Persian cat’s.
“You must be Lily.”
“Urn...yeah. I didn’t know you’d be expecting me.”
“Jack said you might come by. I kinda recognized you ’cause I didn’t recognize you. We don’t seemany new faces round here.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in and meet the gang. I’m Honey, by