At first I was angry. Then I was scared. But Bex talked to me about my gallery, about Buddy and Ralphie, about my shoes, about season tickets for the Colorado Shakespeare Festival in Boulder, about loads of things but not about me getting raped.
An hour slid by before Buddy and Ralphie returned and I realized, only at the end right before she left when she handed me her card and told me to call her anytime, that I liked her.
It took me another week to call her. She’s come to visit me twice. She’s lovely.
By the time Bex came around, we’d already had the parade of hotties sitting outside the brownstone guarding the door, keeping me safe and Ralphie had put up the blackboard.
I was ignoring the parade of hotties and what that might mean.
Ralphie and Buddy didn’t ignore it, they thought it was very interesting and would talk about it all the time.
I didn’t participate in their discussions. That would defeat my efforts at ignoring it which, come hell or high water, was exactly what I was going to do.
Eventually, they’d go away.
Right?
*
By the time I went back to work, Ralphie and Buddy had showed me how to check the Ice Princess at the door.
I’d never been in a house filled with love.
In the beginning it made me uncomfortable because I felt like I was weird. They were so at ease with each other, affectionate, relaxed, calling each other nicknames, doing things that showed they cared.
It was bizarre.
They also did it with me.
There was no personal space in Buddy and Ralphie’s house. You cuddled on the couch. You kissed cheeks when you walked in the door from work. You left notes when you were going out; making sure you gave details about when you’d be home.
Ralphie brought up my coffee in the morning, pushed me aside in bed, sat in it with long legs stretched out, back to the headrest and gabbed about everything while I sipped my coffee and slowly came awake.
While I watched TV, Buddy forced me to sit on the floor between his spread legs and gave me head massages (he said he loved my hair).
They bickered about who was going to make dinner (why, I didn’t know, considering Buddy did all the cooking) and they nagged about whose turn it was to take out the garbage. I’d always thought “bickering” and “nagging” were ugly words but the way Ralphie and Buddy did them, they were sweet.
I tried to give the cold shoulder, indicate I needed my personal space (especially then) but they wore me down.
It took about five days.
*
My second day back at work, the door opened and the Rock Chicks came in.
All of them except Daisy but including Shirleen Jackson.
I stared in horror.
With no sign of an arctic glare, Ally smiled, waved and said, “Hey Sadie.”
Like I was actually A Sadie not A Ms. Townsend.
I tell you, it was bizarre.
They all introduced themselves to me and Ralphie while Ralphie stared at them like they were from another planet. He did this mainly because they were all gorgeous and they were so damned friendly it was unreal.
There was Indy, Ally and Stella but also ladies named Jet, Roxie, Ava, Annette and, of course, Shirleen.
After awhile, Ralphie started staring at me like I was from another planet because I went Queen Ice.
I didn’t know what was going on but I didn’t like it and I didn’t want any part of it but there was no way I could ignore it when it was in my own fucking gallery.
Therefore, the Ice Princess clicked into place.
The Rock Chicks were oblivious to my wintry demeanor, chatting away with Ralphie and me like we did it every day.
Eventually Shirleen broke off and wandered the gallery shouting out, “Oowee,” this and “Oowee,” that and finally stopped in front of a painting Ralphie and I’d had hanging for three months without a single nibble of interest.
“I gotta have me that!” Shirleen called across the gallery. She turned to Jet who was closest to her. “Wouldn’t that look good in my rec room?”
I looked at the painting. It was a canvass painted entirely in purple. Just purple. Most people thought it was just canvass painted purple, therefore no nibbles. It was a beautiful purple though and I loved it.
I wasn’t certain sure it was “rec room” material though.
“It’s perfect,” Jet agreed.
Shirleen looked in my direction. “I’ll take it.”
Ralphie swooped down on Shirleen in an instant and snatched her credit card out of her hand before she’d cleared it from her purse.
“I’ll get my boys, Roam and Sniff, to come and get it,” she told us, leaning against my counter.
“We have a delivery service,” Ralphie informed her while I was wondering who in their right mind would name their children Roam and Sniff.
“No, Roam’s drivin’ now, he needs practice negotiating downtown. I’ll give him the Navigator, he’ll do just about anything to drive the Navigator,” Shirleen replied.
“They’re street names,” Indy muttered to me under her breath.
I turned my eyes to her. “Sorry?”