‘Yoga!’ Stella repeated. With some difficulty, she raised her arms into a Y, like she was doing a cheer. Gimme a Y for Yoga.
‘There are adorable little developments,’ Samantha went on, the words tumbling out of her fast. ‘That’s mostly where I’m selling. To young couples, like Chris and me. Neighbors of ours, in fact! The houses that have cropped up around us are just lovely. They have built in barbecue grills and side basketball courts. They’re brand new. I always tell customers that a new house is the best. You can put your own stamp on it, you know?’
Stella gave her a dippy smile, seeming perplexed.
‘Where is Northglenn, anyway?’ I asked.
‘It’s just past State College,’ Samantha said.
I drew a map in my head. ‘So it’s not that far away,’ I said slowly, so perhaps Stella would get it.
‘Yes, but it’s not the best highway,’ Samantha said. ‘Lots of accidents.’
And then she started up again, taking a deep breath. ‘So Chris sends his regards, of course. He would have loved to come but he couldn’t spare the day, obviously. It’s busy, busy, busy with all the building he’s doing.’ She pantomimed wiping the sweat off her brow. ‘He comes home so bushed every night.’
At the word bushed, I stood. Samantha’s eyes lingered on me for a split second. We’d only talked on the phone before this. Each phone conversation had been the same: Samantha reiterated how badly she wanted to see us, but she was just so busy. First, because she and her husband, Chris, were buying a new house. Then, because she was studying for her realtor’s license. Then, because she was selling houses. And more houses. And more houses. For some reason, I couldn’t quite imagine Samantha selling real houses-little plastic green ones from Monopoly seemed more plausible. People came to her real estate office, all prepared to look for a threebedroom, two-bath, and Samantha held the little game piece between her hands and said, You don’t want that. You want this.
At the end of each phone call, Stella loomed in the kitchen, weakly reaching out for the receiver. I told Samantha that Stella wanted to talk, but Samantha always said she had another call coming in. Or a client had just walked into her office. Or Chris needed something, urgently. When I went to hang up the phone, a little flurry of hurt crossed Stella’s face, but she quickly distracted herself by scratching the skin under her wig, or digging through her box of cassette tapes for something by Elvis, or tickling her slobbering pug, Nelson, on his belly.
‘I’ve gotten Chris on this vitamin program,’ Samantha went on. ‘There’s a health store that opened across town, too, which I tell my clients is a really, really good thing because that indicates wealth in a community, you know? The whole McDonald’s phenomenon-the poorer people are, the worse they eat. Because, you know, McDonald’s is cheap. And…fattening. If people want to eat better, it means they have more money.’
‘But vitamins aren’t food,’ I offered. ‘They’re…pills.’
Derailed, Samantha scratched the edge of her chin. ‘Well, anyway. They have the most amazing selection of vitamins and herbs, and I’ve told Chris that if he’s going to be working such long hours and feel so stressed, he should get his body into balance. I’m trying to get him to yoga too but you know, he is a man.’
‘I’ve tried vitamins,’ Stella piped up.
Samantha’s forehead creased. ‘…Really?’
Stella’s eyes gleamed excitedly. ‘They were the size and smell of a horse’s asshole. I practically couldn’t swallow them. Made the inside of my mouth smell like a barn. Now, what if I wanted to kiss a man? He wouldn’t want to come near me, my mouth smelling like manure.’
Samantha’s mouth dropped open a little.
‘It’s true!’ Stella looked at me. ‘Tell her, Summer. Tell her about the men that kiss me.’
‘There are lots of them,’ I said. Stella liked to kiss men on TV, crawling up to the screen and suffering through a few moments of static to get her mouth close to their faces.
‘Chris takes vitamin E, vitamin A, and vitamin C,’ Samantha said. This person she’d become. ‘And then he takes a multi. I think it’s really been working for him. I take them too, of course. And calcium. Do you take calcium, Stell?’
‘What were the things I took, Summer?’ Stella asked. ‘The asshole pills? It was a vitamin that wasn’t a letter.’
‘Well, I mean, you take lots of vitamins,’ I explained, searchingly. ‘You’re supposed to. I think you’re thinking of the herbs.’