Eight
It was the second Monday of the month and that meant girl’s night. We were going to Teri’s house for dinner, not supper as Tammy, Mallory and I referred to our evening dining experience.
Teri lives in the exclusive Piper Glen section of upscale South Charlotte, where you tend to feel like you’re walking into the Smithsonian the minute you enter her three-story manse. She happens to be one of those domestic goddesses who, if you drop a crumb, is at your feet with a dustpan, broom, and a look that begs the question, “Must you be eternally clumsy?”
Hey, we didn’t tell her to request the installation of pristine white carpeting throughout the house. And talk about cold! The girl is extremely hot natured and the house could easily substitute as a meat locker for Perdue Farms. I couldn’t understand why her frail husband hadn’t perished from a fatal bout of bronchial pneumonia years ago.
Immediately upon entering her house, I stop at the entry closet and grab an afghan, which she keeps there just for me and it remains draped around my shoulders for the entire visit. It never fails to annoy the hell out of me that she can traipse around her glacial dwelling wearing daisy dukes and a tank top as if the thermostat might register a sweltering 99 degrees.
Once she notices my lips beginning to turn an unsightly shade of blue, she usually breathes an irritated sigh and, as a great sacrifice to me, ignites the gas logs in the fireplace. Within the short span of five minutes she commences to perspire heavily, turn a bright vivid red in the cheeks, and appear to have difficulty breathing. So since I can gather warmth from my afghan, while she seems on the verge of an impending attack of apoplexy, I clutch my life supporting cover tighter and shut off the logs.
And get this. She listens to show tunes. Angela Lansbury was bellowing from the stereo singing something about somebody called “Mame”. “Don’t you just love this song?” Teri trilled in between singing to the high heavens with her arms thrown in the air and spinning gaily around the room.
“Yeth.” Tammy cried with a stricken look.
“Liar,” I whispered in her ear as Teri waltzed us through her imposing manor. Her husband is a wealthy, geriatric stockbroker.
“Surely she won’t force us to listen to that music through the entire meal will she?” Mallory asked with a put upon look similar to Tammy’s. Her shoes clicked on the black and white marble floor of the foyer as she trailed behind. She knew the deeper you ventured into Teri’s abode the louder the music would become.
“You know the will.” Tammy moaned. “Dothn’t the alwayth? Do you think Lawrenth ever complainth?”
“No.” Mallory said. “He only has to remove his hearing aids. To be so frigging lucky!”
“It sounds like the poor woman could be in pain.” I glanced at Teri and sighed heavily. “Why do you feel the need to torture us every time we come to visit?”
“How can you call “Mame” torture? Why, I never heard such a ludicrous notion! “Mame” torture?” She actually pretended to be shocked. “It’s a classic!”
Then she fell into dance and twirled around the room for the entire song, as I huddled in my life supporting afghan praying for the song to end, and the other two just looked at her as if scientist had just discovered a new form of life on planet Earth.
Years earlier, prior to her sex change, Teri had been a popular stage performer/drag queen with lurid tales of her onstage antics that could cause your ears to sizzle. I had been to several of her shows and remembered her doing an excellent Cher. Teri was then, and still is, an exhibitionist at heart. She had paid good money for her triple D’s and had no intention of shielding them from the casual observer.
At Teri’s domicile, if show tunes weren’t blasting from the Bose speakers hidden in the walls, she was playing songs from the 80's. Laura Branigan, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, and Blondie were a few of her favorites. Where was the extra strength Tylenol?
To top it off, she has an obnoxious affinity for anything with a coat of fur or feathers. There is either a dog running, a bird flapping, a rodent (in others words a freaking rat) --which I keep about a hundred glue pads in my basement in an effort to annihilate the horrid creatures-- spinning on a wheel or a rabbit hopping through the house at any given moment and she treats them like her children. You never knew what was going to greet you when you arrived on Teri’s doorstep.
“Oh, would you just look.” I cried glancing around her Victorian inspired living room. Four stunning vases of gorgeous roses sat at various locations around the room, one each of red, yellow, pink and orange. “They are exquisite.”
“Lawrence had four dozen roses delivered for Valentine's Day. One for each year we have been married.” She frowned as we all moved to a different vase to touch and smell the delicate floral arrangements. “After four years of wedded bliss the man still hasn’t figured out that I simply detest flowers and I haven’t the heart to tell him.”
“But today isn’t Valentine’s Day, tomorrow is,” I informed her, sniffing the orange bouquet.
“We know. He said my real Valentine’s gift will be delivered tomorrow.”
“What do you think that will be?” Mallory was savoring the fragrance of a delicate, sunshine yellow rose.
“I’m guessing a convertible Porsche Carrera, since I made the mistake of commenting on one last week.” She grinned mischievously.
It hadn’t been a mistake. We all knew Teri well enough to know that her comment had been timed with painstaking precision.
Teri led us up the curving mahogany staircase to her computer room to show us her latest online acquisitions. The girl is an EBAY junkie, purchasing an amount equivalent to my mortgage payment on a weekly basis. She has enough shoes, clothes and handbags to supply a small country. The Fed Ex man has become such a regular at her house that she has taken to inviting him inside for tea and crumpets and… whatever…while Lawrence is away enjoying his daily round of golf, or more aptly put, his round of being chauffeured around in his tricked out golf cart.
We followed her into her bedroom to admire her latest Louis Vuitton collection. What a diva! Who actually changes their purse daily? I consider it no small feat if I find time to change mine every six months. Although I shouldn’t complain, since after a couple of weeks she often tires of a new bag and passes it along to me. I had a stash of handbags in my closet, while Mallory and Tammy were quite content with their Jaclyn Smith K Mart bags, thank you.
We made the appropriate oohs and aahs to the latest acquisitions in her cleavage revealing, curve hugging, designer wardrobe and then meandered to her husband’s weight room in a mannerly effort to speak to him. He was having his twice-weekly session of physical therapy due to last year’s massive heart attack and gave us a cursory wave.
Lawrence begrudgingly tolerates us on Teri’s night to entertain, but he would much rather spend the evening alone with his voluptuous wife. He is a very peculiar person who guards his privacy zealously and wishes that Teri would as well. Like that will ever happen.
“When was the last time you two had sex?” Mallory asked moving into Teri’s bedroom and taking a seat at her vanity to spritz perfume on various locations of her body.
“Oh, we don’t have actual sex per se. Every night I sit on the edge of his bed naked and he fondles my breasts until he drifts off to sleep with a satisfied smile.” Teri swiftly took the perfume bottle from Mallory. “Why must you insist on smelling like a French whore?”
Mallory ignored her and began sampling different shades from the vast array of lipsticks before continuing undaunted. “Well, when was the last time you actually had actual sex?” She settled on a rich peach color and added a topcoat of gloss.
“With Lawrence you mean?”
“Yes, Teri, your husband.”
A pained expression crossed Teri’s face. “Oh, that was the night of his heart attack.”
The night of Lawrence’s heart attack had been a terrifying ordeal for Teri, for all of us in fact. She might not be in love with him, but she really did love him. I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
She had called us from the hospital sobbing hysterically that Lawrence was going to die. It was only a few months after her sex change surgery and she had insisted, rather loudly, “It’s all my fault! I know it is! I killed the poor man with my brand new, silky smooth, extremely tight, state of the art twat.” She said this from Lawrence’s somber room in ICU. God only knows how many nurses, doctors and patients had needed resuscitation after that heartfelt confession.
The three of us had rushed to her side and were witness to her genuine relief when Lawrence was taken off the ventilator and smiled at her.
“Is anyone hungry?” Teri asked as we headed back downstairs, where blessedly the soundtrack had ended. “Now that you have snooped into my personal life, when was the last time you fornicated, Mallory?”
“Today. Twice. And it was damn good! It was all big and crooked. You all know how good a crooked dick feels.”
“I'm tharving,” Tammy announced, clearly grateful for the silence. “What is that wonderful thmell?” Her gratitude was short lived however, as the next CD that fell into place contained the coma inducing rendition of one of the most annoying songs on the planet Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
“How does Beef Wellington sound?” Teri removed the dish, which smelled scrumptious from the oven. She is a culinary marvel.
“Great!” we all said in unison.
We plopped down on bar stools at her kitchen counter. None of us, given a choice, would have chosen to suffer through a meal in her elegant dining room with its exquisite French lace tablecloth and window treatments. I personally would have been more inclined to choke from thirst, rather than risk picking up a crystal wine goblet in the elaborately appointed room. It was difficult to enjoy libations with the ever-present fear of tipping the glass and having to watch in absolute horror as red wine soaked into her plush snowy carpet.
“So Eve, when was your last romp in the hay?” Teri queried, immediately returning to her favorite topic of discussion.
Did she seem suspicious or was it all in my mind? I had asked Tammy and Mallory not to tell her that Adam and I were back together until after girl’s night. I didn’t feel like being the victim of her catty comments or insults tonight.
“To be honest, I don’t even remember. In fact, it’s quite possibly that my coochie has grown shut by now.” I laughed, unable to look her in the eyes. “At least four months I would think.”
“What about you, Tammy?” Mallory asked, scooping out a healthy portion of beef, a side of asparagus and about a pint of potato salad.
“Thaturday night, but it wathn’t that good.” Tammy plucked a roll from the napkin-covered breadbasket. “He didn’t do the betheth thing.”
The bestest thing, in Tammy lingo, being the predominant use of lips and tongue on ones nether region.
“Well, why ever not?” Mallory seemed both shocked and appalled by the notion that a man would actually refuse a woman oral sex. Actually, she appeared downright distraught by the news.
“He thaid he didn’t believe in doing it. That he had never done it, in fact.” Tammy took a bite from a yeast roll and slathered more honey butter on it. “He thaid it was nathy, can you believe that thit? I bet he wouldn’t think Thakira’s wath nathy.”
“She bets he wouldn’t think whose was nasty?” Teri queried.
“Shakira’s,” I translated.
“Oh, hell, even I wouldn’t have a problem nibbling on that twat! I don’t know what his problem is, Tammy. I only hope you didn’t suck his lollipop before you found out about his aversion to juicy fruit. At any rate, I suggest you move on. He hardly sounds worthy of your time. Oral sex certainly doesn’t feel nasty to me.” Teri smiled dreamily. “Why, in my opinion it’s one of the necessary life skills.
“You know, I had always heard that black men wouldn’t go down on a woman either. Well, I can assure you that’s a lie.” Mallory grinned and wiggled her bottom on the stool. “Antwan slurps mine like it’s a vanilla ice cream cone.”
“You girls won’t know the true meaning of slurping until you get with a man who can remove his teeth and just use his gums,” Teri said and shivered at the thought. “Devine.”
“Whew! That wasn’t the mental picture I needed during dinner.
As usual, the meal was absolutely superb. Cooking was just one of Teri’s many talents including building a dog house, decorating, repairing the gutters, needlework, building a dog fence around the yard or refinishing furniture. She could do it all without breaking a single acrylic nail.
One of the perks of having Teri as a friend is that she cuts and colors our hair for free. So, after the meal, Mallory commented that her ends needed a trim. Teri led us upstairs to her bathroom and eagerly shoved Mallory down on a stool and draped a cape around her. This was a highly unusual event, as I felt reasonably certain that some of the hair would have to land on Teri’s immaculate floor. I just couldn’t see her allowing this to happen, but as shocking as it was, that seemed to be her plan.
Mallory had been attempting to allow her usually inch long, spiked hair to grow, which annoyed Teri to no end. “You have a round face, Mallory, and all that hair fluffed out around your face only makes it appear rounder, fuller, and for lack of a better word… fatter.” Teri's tone implied that she had already informed Mallory of this on more than one occasion. Admittedly Mallory’s hair was naturally curly and very, very full. “Before I cut it why don’t you let me straighten it and take out some of the fullness?”
Teri was a huge fan of straight hair and given the fact that she could be very persuasive, few of her clients even owned curling irons.
“Will I look good with straight hair?” Mallory’s words came out in an annoying whine.
Teri cast a sideways glance at me with eyes that asked if the girl could make it through one entire day without talking through her nasal passages? Yet for once she almost held her tongue and said, “It couldn’t look any worse than it does now.” That would have seriously pissed some people off, but we were accustomed to Teri’s biting sarcasm and it rolled right off her.
We chatted about the latest episodes of Dancing with the Stars and Pretty Little Liars while we suffered through an entire CD of Barry Manilow’s Greatest Hits. In between belting out songs, and the occasional random twirl around the room, Teri applied chemicals and combed Mallory’s hair straight.
After drying and styling Mallory’s appearance changed dramatically. She was transformed from country to city chic in less than two hours. The switch from curly to bone straight was sensational. It added an air of sophistication and erased several years from her appearance. Given the amount of twirling in front of the mirror, Mallory was loving it too. “I love it! Teri, you are a miracle worker!”
“So they say.”
“Next month, it’ll be my turn for a makeover,” Tammy insisted.
“Let’s not make this a habit.” Teri was quick to point out. “You girls know you need to book appointments at the salon. I made an exception tonight, because I simply could not tolerate that…thatch on Mallory’s head for another second.” She cast a doleful gaze at Mallory and continued, “How you could appear in public with that unsightly bush sprouting from your head simply behooves me.”
Ignoring her rhetoric, Mallory hugged Teri and thanked her profusely. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost 9:00. Adam’s shift would end in two hours. I needed to hurry home and be waiting with open arms.
As we were getting our coats, Teri turned off the music and came to stand directly in front of me.
Oh, boy!
Here it comes!
When she turned off her music watch out!
She leaned over to help me with my coat and whispered, “Please tell me that what I heard isn’t true, Eve. Ease my mind and reassure me that you did not take the imbecile back?”
I cast a wicked glare at the traitors who suddenly couldn’t seem to pull their rapt attention from one of Lawrence’s horrible abstract paintings. A lot of good it had done to ask them not to broadcast the fact that Adam and I were on speaking terms again. It was Mallory. I knew asking her to keep a secret was like asking Adam not to tell a lie, impossible.
“I don’t know if you would exactly call us being back together.” I was hedging and she knew it.
“Oh, you don’t call him spending the last two nights with you being back together? Then please forgive me for jumping to ridiculous assumptions.”
Here we go!
“What is the plan, Eve? To pay Eric to keep Chia’s bed hot, so you can keep Adam?”
Three sets of eyes looked at her in shocked disbelief. That was cold even for Teri! It rarely happened with her, but I felt my blood begin to simmer. How could she be so spiteful and vindictive? To me? “I’m not paying Eric a dime.”
“You’re not? Oh, then forgive me if I spoke out of turn. I was under the impression that he remained on the clock during his mid afternoon romps with Chia.”
She had me there.
Then, totally confusing the three of us as we stood on the stoop of her front steps, she stepped back in and slammed the door. Immediately she opened the door and informed Tammy and Mallory that she desired a private word with them. I didn’t care to hear what she had to say anyway, since it obviously concerned me. I started toward the car mumbling unkind things under my breath.
Tammy had driven, and her car had an oil leak, so she had parked on the road in front of the manse. I took the shortcut across the lawn and had only taken a few steps when the Pamela Anderson wannabe actually had the nerve to turn on the sprinkler system soaking me from head to toe! I screamed as the ice cold water soaked me through and through in seconds. Then I bolted across her lawn, which was the size of the Panther’s football field at Bank of America Stadium. In my confusion, I ran away from the driveway and into a field of Lawrence’s beloved sod where I was inundated with huge blasts of frigid water at every turn.
Get a grip, Eve!
I stopped, took a deep calming breath, swiped at the rivulets of water pouring into my eyes and finally spotted the driveway, seemingly about a mile away. I charged back through the sprinkler system and ended up on her doorstep looking like a drowned rat. Just let me get my hands on the spiteful bitch! I would kill her! I pounded on the door with frozen fists.
Teri opened it and tried to appear quite astonished by the fact that my hair and clothes were soaked and I was dripping large amounts of water on her stoop. “What on earth happened to you?”
“You did, you conniving bitch!” Failing to think clearly in my icy rage, I slapped her soundly across her implanted cheeks.
She slapped me back. With a quickness! And since she still had the inner workings and strength of a man, her slap sent me staggering backwards on the steps.
“Excuuuuuuse me!” she ground out.
Fortunately, she thought enough of me to catch me before I hit the ground.
Few people could call Teri a bitch, let alone lay hands on her and get away with it.
“Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t turn the sprinklers on!” I blubbered and shivered. “I was already frozen clear to the bone from being inside your igloo!” I cried through chattering teeth. “I’ll probably have pneumonia by morning.”
Snatching my hand, she rushed me inside and forced me into a hot shower fully clothed, while at the same time cooing, “Eve, those sprinklers are on a timer, honey. They come on at this time every night. You know how Lawrence obsesses over his sod.” She stuck her head in the shower, looked at me with a pitiful expression and asked, “Do you honestly think I would do that to you?”
“Yes.”
She screamed with laughter. “Me too. Damn, I wish I had thought of it!”
While I sat huddled in one of her thickest terry robes and an electric blanket, she applied a palm filled with styling gel and vigorously massaged it into my hair and scalp. Tammy and Mallory looked on with apparent amusement at the handprints on both our cheeks as she dried and styled my hair.
“You know I tend to blurt things out when I should just keep my mouth shut,” she shouted above the noise of the hairdryer. After applying hairspray to force each strand to stay exactly where she wanted it and with what I supposed was her idea of an apology she admitted, “I should probably work on that.”
“Amen to that sister!” My anger evaporated as we fell into each other’s arms. The girl’s words could cut to the quick, but it was impossible to stay mad at her.
“I am just so tired of watching that low life piece of dog excrement hurt you. Is he coming over tonight?"
“Yes.” I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of seeing Adam and she read me perfectly. It was also impossible to hide my emotions from her.
“Then go home and get ready for him, at least you won’t have to do anything to your hair. There is nothing I can say that hasn’t already been said. You know I love you.”
“I know.” I smiled as she closed the door behind us. “I love you, too.”
An hour later, I arrived at home about the same time as Adam and was quick to discover he was in one of his foul moods.
“Where have you been in your bath robe, Eve?”
I explained the events at Teri’s with him failing to see the slightest bit of humor in the situation. At times the man could be so trifling.
We discussed the disturbing news that the company he worked for had recently filed for bankruptcy. We also planned a vacation to the mountains in a couple of weeks, with him failing to mention his recent visit to the vacation spot with Chia. I wondered if he had missed the roll of film yet?
We grilled barbecued chicken, baked potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil, and corn on the cob with the shucks intact, but the laughter we normally shared was glaringly absent. Since he didn’t seem inclined toward conversation, we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. I was deliriously happy to have him back home, but it was obvious that his mind was about a zillion miles from my living room.
When he left the next morning, without so much as a Happy Valentines Day, I filled the tub with bubble bath and hot water and sank down into it as nagging doubt assaulted me. Adam would see Chia at work every day. That was a given. What would happen? Would a sexy smile from her cause him to fall mindlessly back into the same pattern of lust? Was the dashing Eric succeeding in his attempt to eradicate all thought of Adam from Chia’s mind? Could she settle for the admiring attention of just one man? Did Adam really love me? Or was he filling my head with his customary lies?
Then again, Eric was at work, which meant Chia was alone and could quite easily pick up the phone. Would he answer if she called? Good Lord, I would go insane if I didn’t stop the multitude of doubts from swirling around in my head. Adam had continually asked me to trust him, insisting that he could earn my trust. Could he? Who knew? I could call and try to find out though.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Adam,” I chirped, when he finally answered his phone.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eve.” He sounded like mine was the last voice he had expected to hear.
“Tonight’s the night I get to open the sequestered box!”
“What box?”
He was so scatterbrained! I heard the pause on his line as he received a beep.
“Hold on a minute, Eve.” I waited several minutes for him to click back over. Finally he did and hurriedly said, “Hey, Eve… it’s my mom. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay, give her my love. Bye.” Evidently, his mom was calling to wish him Happy Valentine’s Day. How sweet. I should send her flowers from him. Lord knows he wouldn’t remember to.
My skin was beginning to prune, so I forced myself out of the tub feeling the need for a liberal dose of caffeine. There is nothing like the smell of fresh coffee in the morning. I tend to agree with the commercial. It is the best part of waking up.
In an effort to convince myself that I’d made the right decision by taking Adam back, I drove to the lingerie shop in town and bought a sexy lace teddy. After considerable debate, I chose a slinky red number with garter belt, hose and 6 inch heels. No doubt I would tower over Adam, but I didn’t plan to wear the shoes or any other part of the ensemble more than a few minutes.
With my sexy attire laid across the foot of my bed and me counting the minutes until midnight, I called all three of the girls hoping to wile away the hours. Teri was in the process of applying chemicals to a client’s hair. Mallory was riding the floor scrubber around the plant. And Tammy was busy accounting. None of them had time to talk to me on what was sure to be one of the most momentous days of my life. Huh! Some friends!
Why was this day going by so slow? I couldn’t even sit still long enough to watch my favorite cooking show, Barefoot Contessa. I was a bundle of nervous energy, so I went next door to my parent’s house.
We feasted on a delicious supper of barbecued chicken, creamed potatoes and gravy, pinto beans, homemade biscuits, and a plate of fresh, sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, while I answered countless questions about my confusing social life. My dad said things like, “Be careful, Eve. A skunk ain’t gonna lose his stripe,” and “Some men just ain’t the settling down type.” Mom had to add, “Sometimes it’s best to cut your losses and move on.” As usual, I ignored their wisdom.
Finally at 9:00, I soaked in a steaming tub of water and then rubbed Japanese Cherry Blossom Body Lotion from Bath and Body Works over every inch of skin. I placed candles throughout the bedroom, popped Adele into the CD player and slipped into the new teddy I had bought for my Valentine. Everything was perfect. Now came the interminable waiting.
Finally, at long last, I would be allowed to open the jewelry box and see which setting he had chosen for my brilliant diamond. I did so hope he had asked for a few suggestions from the sales lady.
The phone rang and I knew the girls had finally found time in their busy schedules to talk to me. Mallory and Tammy were positive that it was an engagement ring and were already discussing color schemes for their bridesmaid dresses. Teri insisted that if it were indeed a ring, it would be a toe ring.
In my heart I was convinced it was an engagement ring, and after tonight I would be Adam’s betrothed. I practiced the word several times and just hearing fiancé roll off my tongue sent a thrill racing through me. I would without doubt tie up Ma Bell for days as I called family and friends to inform them of our engagement.
Who knew, we might even set the wedding date tonight and then I could spend every waking minute planning for the big event. I would suggest June. I love June weddings. First I would need to call my son so he could request time off to walk me down the aisle. Oh! So much to do!
I pulled my old robe over the teddy, anxious to see Adam’s surprise when I let it drop during the little strip tease I had rehearsed after watching Striptease three times. I could hardly wait! This was going to be a night that neither of us would ever forget, and the night that relocated the illustrious Chia to the back of his mind forever.
I was sitting on the couch, watching the clock and tapping my high heels impatiently on my polished wood floor when the phone rang at 10:58. It was Justin who unexpectedly burst forth with, “Chia got a dozen red roses delivered to her at the plant today.”
“Who were they from?” I asked, elated that she had received flowers and was hopefully moving on with her life. “Eric?” Maybe she and Eric were fast becoming an item. “I imagine she was quite giddy.”
“She was giddy all right, Eve.”