Chapter Six

Hilton ended up spending the next day with Anne. They went to Pike Street Market and added themselves to the throng of Saturday afternoon shoppers. Instead of breakfast, they went to Iver’s Restaurant and had fried clams and fish and chips. Anne tried Hilton’s fried clams and insinuated that they were batter-dipped rubber bands. Then they went shopping.

“What do you mean you don’t understand how to buy clothes?”

Anne asked.

They were standing in front of the Body Boutique, the sex toy store where the infamous purple dildo had no doubt been purchased. Anne insisted it had been purchased at a gag shop. Hilton was showing her otherwise.

“I just don’t get it. I wear this stuff”—Hilton pointed to her camo-wear— “because I know it matches. I don’t have to make any decisions.”

“Like those little matching outfits they make for toddlers,”

Anne said brightly.

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Hilton glared at her.

“I meant that in a nice way.”

“So I’m textile-challenged. Do you want to go in and take a look around?”

“No! I don’t think that’s a good idea. Mind you, not that I’m afraid. I’m not, but I can just envision me getting spotted by one of my listeners and it gets all over town. I can see the news blurb now.

Talk show host caught in dildo shop picking out the big one.”

Hilton laughed. “I guess you’ve got a point there.” The ad promo department at the radio station liked to use Anne’s face in their local print ads, so local listeners knew her. She was extremely photogenic with her green eyes and neatly cut curly hair. Hilton was always fascinated with the fact that all the rain and humidity in Seattle only seemed to make Anne’s hair look better. It played havoc with her long hair, giving it fits of fly-away strands and giant snarls. She was endlessly threatening to get it cut off.

“I have a better idea.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s go get you some clothes, real clothes.”

Hilton raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not being like Veronica,” Anne said. She raised her right hand. “I swear. Hilton, you’re gorgeous. You have a nice figure.

Good clothes would really do you justice. I mean, so-called camo-wear can only take you so far.”

Hilton smiled. “You’re lucky I’m not offended.”

“I wasn’t offended by eating fried rubber bands.”

“I was just trying to broaden your horizons,” Hilton said. “I could go shopping. You know, Gran wasn’t much into the physical side of life so I never really learned those things that other girls did. I always felt a little backward in the girly department.”

Anne took Hilton’s hand. “Come on. Class is now in session.”

They went back to the car where they found a small crowd gathered around Anne’s Chevy Avalanche. Shannon was sitting in the front seat giving the impression that she was driving. People were laughing and Shannon had that panting dog smile that makes 66

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humans anthropomorphize them. Hilton made her move. “You big ham.”

Shannon climbed in the backseat and Hilton gave her a french fry that she’d saved from lunch.

Later that evening, Anne dropped Hilton and Shannon off with six shopping bags full of clothes, which didn’t account for the outfit Hilton was wearing. It occurred to Hilton that she hadn’t been home in nearly twenty-four hours. She slipped in the front door, hoping that all was quiet and that Nat had gone out. To her surprise Jessie was sitting in the living room watching a movie with a small, brown teddy bear next to her. The bear was wrapped up in a blanket. Her biology book was draped carelessly over her leg.

This constituted studying in Jessie’s world, which was why she was endlessly on academic probation.

“What’s up?” Hilton said as she set the shopping bags on the floor.

“Not much. What’s up with you? You’re all fixed up. What happened to camo-girl?”

“She’s been laid to rest. Anne took me shopping.” Hilton blushed involuntarily. She hoped Jessie wouldn’t notice. No such luck.

“Yeah, what is up with you and the boss lady? You’ve been gone since last night. I’ve told you about not making your bread where you eat your meat.”

“That’s so disgusting and it’s not like that.” Hilton sat on the couch and slipped off her new Italian leather boots.

Jessie raised an eyebrow. “Not yet. Anyway, you missed all the excitement with the cops.”

“Not exactly. We drove past and kept on going. What happened?”

“Nat and Emily got into a catfight in the front yard and someone called the cops. Nobody got hurt. The cops broke it up and made everyone go home.”

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“Is Nat with the biker chick?”

“Yeah, man, Nat’s really freaking lately. I mean, she’s not usually like this.”

“I think Nat’s falling in love and doing her best to ignore the fact. You know how she is.”

“It’ll probably pass, like all the others,” Jessie said sagely. She pulled the blanket up higher on the bear and patted its head mater-nally.

“Jessie, what’s going on with the bear?”

“Oh, I’m bear-sitting. Remember the night I tried to set Liz up with what I thought was the perfect girlfriend?”

Hilton drew a blank.

“You know, the night of your little indiscretion with Emily.”

It all came back to her in vivid color—pink hair, rocking hips, languid, wet kisses. Then she remembered the pretty blonde on the couch with the bear. “The one who looked just like Barbie’s friend Skipper?”

“Yeah, her name is Melissa. Liz and Melissa did end up talking and now they’re out on a date.”

“Really?”

“Is that wicked or what? So I offered to bear-sit. I wanted them to have some quality time.”

“How come Liz didn’t tell me?” Hilton was kind of hurt at being left out of the loop.

“Uh, because you were gone,” Jessie ventured.

“Oh, yeah.”

Shannon whined.

“Okay, I guess you might be hungry. You want an egg sandwich?”

Shannon barked.

“Then come back and show me your new outfits. You look hot.”

Hilton smiled. “Sure.”

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Hilton fixed Shannon an egg sandwich and then went back to the living room to cut tags and organize her purchases. Anne had taken her to this woman’s store where they found the most amazing things. “I mean, look at this,” Hilton said, holding up a coffee-colored short suede jacket with braided trim. She had a ruffled paisley blouse of deep reds and browns to wear under it and a pair of dark brown hipster polyester pants.

“Wow, that is beautiful. This is not your regular department store stuff.” Jessie put the blouse on over her T-shirt. “I’m thinking lots of cash.”

“But it’s quality. I don’t know, it’s some kind of rich lady store where they have all this designer stuff and the saleswoman helps you pick it out and you look great when she’s done with you. Anne shops there.”

“Nice suit,” Jessie said, holding it up. It was a black leather suit with a white silk collared shirt. The pants were boot-cut and had sterling silver rivets. “It looks like something Johnny Cash would wear. Go try it on.”

They spent the rest of the evening with the fashion show and then watched the remainder of the Brother Bear video.

“Kids’ videos rock sometimes,” Jessie said. She grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in her mouth.

“Why’s that?” Hilton asked.

“It’s that feel-good stuff.”

Hilton scratched Shannon’s ears. “But there’s no sex.”

Jessie laughed. “Not everything I do has sex in it.”

Hilton scoffed. “Almost everything you do. Come on, Jessie, getting laid makes your world go around.”

“Well, it does play an important role,” Jessie conceded.

Hilton rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’m calling it a night. Are you going to wait up?”

“Of course, I want to get all the details. I’m going to put Amelia Bearhart to bed and then watch the episodes of the L word that I taped. As a small bear-child she really shouldn’t be watching smut.”

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Hilton gave her an I-told-you-so look and went off to bed with Shannon. It was a full moon, she noticed as the two of them made their way across the lawn. The lawn was slowly turning a brownish yellow and the dogwood trees were still littering the flower beds with their dark burgundy leaves. The fall had been a pretty one, full of sunshine and cool mornings. When the drier weather came it would do wonders for her hair and she’d be able to get away with brushing it once in the morning and once before bed.

Over the back fence she could see little hanging pumpkin lights on her neighbor’s veranda. They were always decorating for the holidays. It would be Halloween in two weeks and she was kind of glad Nat wasn’t around because the big Halloween party wouldn’t be taking place this year. Hilton had already declined the Queer Nation people’s request to host the party. She, Jessie and Liz had tentatively made plans to hang out together and watch cheesy black-and-white horror films and carve pumpkins. Hilton was kind of hoping she could convince Anne to come over, if she wasn’t busy.

She opened the door to the cottage and Shannon jumped on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh. “I know, girl. I’m pretty beat myself.”

Hilton disrobed and carefully hung up her new clothes. Anne had mentioned something about dry cleaning. She eyed her new clothes with suspicion. They were starting to resemble a commitment.

On Monday morning, Veronica fawned over her, admiring Hilton’s new look. She had brought her a second cup of coffee and wanted to know what she was doing for lunch. The control room always seemed a little crowded when Veronica was in there fussing around. Hilton could tell Dave was as uncomfortable as she was.

He kept moving his elbows in a funny way like he needed more room.

“I’ve got to take Shannon to the vet for her annual shots.”

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Shannon’s ears perked up a bit.

“Some other time then,” Veronica said as she floated off.

Anne had apparently seen the whole thing. “Well, well, well, aren’t we suddenly popular.” She stood in the doorway of the control room.

“A little too popular,” Hilton grumbled. She had spent more than her usual amount of time getting ready because now she had to make choices. She had finally decided on a turquoise, big, collared blouse and black hipster trousers. She felt kind of funny getting dressed up but this was what businesswomen did, and she was a grownup now.

“I told you blue looked good on you,” Anne said, coming in the room and straightening out the back of Hilton’s collar.

“And you should have mentioned La Femme Nikita would be after me if I wore it.”

“It slipped my mind.”

“Dude, you really look hot,” Dave chimed in.

“Thanks,” Hilton said, pointedly turning to her computer and checking out the Web site.

“Did you notice the footwear?” Anne said.

“Expensive,” Dave said, indicating Hilton’s leather boots.

“Does she have new socks too?”

“As a matter of fact, she does. Say bye-bye to cheap white gym socks.”

“Off white,” Hilton corrected.

“We do have to work on your laundry skills. It’s called bleach.”

“I’m the sniff-and-toss girl, remember? But enough about me,”

Hilton said.

Lillian came in the office wearing a pink brocade skirt and jacket outfit with a dazzling white hat that was the size of a turkey platter.

“Good morning, Lillian,” Anne said.

“Who’s the new girl? I was just getting used to GI Jane and now you’ve gone and changed everything.”

“No, Lillian, it’s still Hilton,” Anne said cheerfully.

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Lillian leaned down and peered at her. “Good God, you’re right. You almost look like a girl.”

Lillian’s faded blue eyes looked like the size of tea saucers behind her Coke bottle lenses. She backed away and went to her desk on the opposite side of the control room, obviously satisfied that Hilton was still Hilton.

Veronica brought Hilton another cup of coffee.

“Thank you, Veronica, but I really can’t. I don’t have anything in my stomach and it’s starting to hurt.”

“Why didn’t you say something? I’ll go and get you a Smoothie at the shop downstairs.” Shoving the coffee at Anne, she darted off before Hilton had a chance to stop her.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Anne said, taking a sip.

“She never brings me coffee,” Dave whined.

Hilton laughed. “Next time she comes by I’ll mention it.”

Lillian sat at her desk and then read the day’s agenda, or attempted to as she adjusted and readjusted her glasses. “Great guns! We’re starting the day off with a glaring typo,” she shouted.

“Excuse me?” Anne said. She was staring over Hilton’s shoulder at the Web site.

“It says here we’re going to talk about God’s place in our society. You mean dogs, right? Like leash laws and picking up dog crap on the city streets. Did I ever tell you the time when my sister and I went to Paris with a bunch of old biddies from her Methodist church? I never met a more boring, uptight, nervous group of Ex-Laxers in my whole life. I swore that if I saw one more crochet hook I’d scream. What! The afghan can’t wait? Who knits her way across Europe? Anyway, I saw the Eiffel Tower—looks like an overblown Erector set—but the most amazing thing was the motorcycle with a big tank on the back. They vacuumed up the dog poop. Those French people—ingenious bunch. Well, and we’ve always known how squeamish they are—wouldn’t want a little doo-doo on their freshly perfumed hands.”

Hilton was staring at Lillian in awe. Anne was obviously used to these tangential diatribes because she didn’t appear to be the least bit bothered by it.

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“I’m thinking we should get Lillian her own show. We wouldn’t even need callers. We could do the whole show by word association. It would rock,” Dave said, running his fingers though his messy brown hair.

Anne scowled at him. “Where’s your loyalty?”

“It’s radio, we’re always looking for the next best thing. Man, I got to move up if I’m going to support the Gucci habit my new girl has.”

Anne glared at him and then said, “No, Lillian, it’s about God, G-O-D. You know how God is slowly being removed from the schools, from holidays, from court buildings and finally the Pledge of Allegiance. We can’t teach the Declaration of Independence because it mentions God too many times. Come on, if I was God, I’d be pissed off. I just don’t get it.”

Lillian frowned. “Next thing you know you’ll be getting the crochet needles out just like those old biddy Methodists my sister is so fond of.”

“Just take calls from people who want to talk about God and politics.”

“Next you’ll be having prayer services before the show and we’ll all be going on retreat together,” Lillian muttered.

Anne rolled her eyes and left for her own booth. The intro music started. Today, Dave chose an old show tune by Frank Sinatra. Anne smiled as Sinatra belted out the last line of, “My Way.”

Anne laughed. She switched on the mike. “How appropriate.”

Dave gave her the thumbs-up. He switched on station identification KCOM-FM and the promo part of Anne’s show. Hilton zoomed in on Anne’s face and did some last-minute adjustments.

Lillian put her headphones on and Veronica peeked in to ensure all was well. Hilton loved this moment. It was showtime.

Anne studied her notes and then started her monologue.

“Today, we’re going to begin the show with a hypothetical situation. Now, say you design, implement and fund your very own corporation. You get it up and running, put people in charge—make everything all fine and nice. You own one hundred percent of the 73

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stock. It’s all going so well until one day something starts to change. It’s undermining. Say it starts in the mailroom with the clerks. They start reinterpreting the incoming mail. They start translating your words into their own language—a language you don’t speak. They tell you it’s just a form of corporate shorthand, a better way to communicate with the rest of the group. You, as head honcho, get a little nervous, feel a little unease in your gut, but the workers and middle management seem to be running smoothly.

You take a trip and you come back to find upper management has changed the credo. There’s a hostile takeover. They set you up and bam! You’re out the door of your corporation. The boxes are packed, your last check is cut and you’re history. You’re so shocked and dismayed that you forget to protest. It’s not until later that it all becomes apparent what they’ve done. They’ve rewritten, rein-vented and reconstituted you, and then to add insult to injury they slowly begin to remove you from society. That’s what really sucks.

Now, you’re expendable. Every holiday, every word, every mention of you is to be eradicated as if you never existed. What would you do? How would you feel? Now, you might be thinking this is some big guy that has it all and he just got the shaft. So who cares?

And you’d be correct. But what if the big corporate executive is God? I’m thinking we all better watch out because if the one in charge decides to exact a little retribution we’re in big trouble.”

Hilton watched the computer monitor. Anne was totally brilliant. At the moment she looked like a television evangelist getting really serious just before he asks for your wallet. She looked stunning in her dark green gabardine tailored suit with a black silk shirt. The combination of green and black set off her green eyes and seemed to accent her dark curls. Her hair was cut just above her chin and hung loosely around her face. Hilton swore she must get her hair trimmed every other week because it always looked perfect, unlike her own snarled mess. It was drizzling outside and her hair was a disaster. She tied it up in disgust. She’d come up with various methods for twisting it around and sort of tucking it 74

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back into itself. If she didn’t move around a lot it would stay that way for a while.

Break came and Anne clicked on her mike. “How was that?”

“Beautiful, for a minute there I thought you’d morphed into Dr. Jerry Falwell. It kind of scared me,” Hilton said. “Come take a look at it.”

“I have better hair than he does,” she said, taking her hand and fluffing up her curls.

Lillian was digging around in her beige purse for her cigarettes.

Hilton had watched this scene for several days in a row, wondering what Lillian could possibly be hauling around in a purse that was the size of a suitcase and why she always lost her cigarettes in its enormous void. When Anne entered the room Lillian said,

“There’s a bunch of kook balls on the line that want to talk this and that.”

“Lillian, could you be a little more specific?” Anne said as she came into the control room.

“Kooks about you-know-who,” Lillian said, pointing upward.

“About G-O-D?”

“Yes, I’ll be surprised if my sister doesn’t pop in with a brief commentary.”

“Maybe we should call her,” Anne said. She sat on the corner of Hilton’s desk and eyed the video stream coming in on the computer monitor. Hilton hit playback so Anne could see the last segment. She felt her presence acutely and for half a second she wondered if Jessie was right. Did she have a thing for her boss? She instantly dismissed it. It was an atypical response to an atypical situation. And it was all typical nonsense. She liked Anne. She thought she was brilliant and funny, but lust and infatuation were just figments of Jessie’s overactive imagination.

“Call my sister, hell no! That woman could talk the ear off an elephant. I’d never get her off the line. Did I ever tell you the time we went to the Portland Zoo …”

“Lillian, if you want to smoke, you’d better get going,” Anne 75

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said, pointing to the big black clock. They had approximately six minutes before Anne had to be back on the air.

Anne’s show ran from ten in the morning until twelve. Each segment was approximately fifteen minutes long. At every quarter hour they broke for commercials, news and weather. This was the perfect length of time for Hilton to keep the Web site updated and not get burned out sitting endlessly in front of the computer.

“Oh, crap. I’ll tell you later,” Lillian said. She bustled off as fast as her square-heeled orthopedic shoes would carry her.

“That was good,” Dave said. He got up and stretched.

“And the rest of the day will be even better,” Anne said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “Do you want to go to lunch after the show?”

“I’d love to but I have to take Shannon to get her annual shots.

It doesn’t take long. You could come with and then we could go eat.”

Dave gave them both a funny look.

“Dave, would you like to go to lunch too?” Anne asked.

“I wasn’t invited.”

“Dave, you’re acting like a girl.”

“Dude, I was just messing with you. Actually, I got a date with the new mail clerk downstairs.”

“The one with the Gucci obsession?” Anne inquired.

“Have you seen her?” Dave asked.

“Those are not real,” Anne said.

Hilton smirked. It was obvious that the woman had breast implants.

“Does it really matter?” he replied, his eyes glossing over.

“I think he’s visualizing his face nestled between them,” Anne said to Hilton.

“Was I that obvious?” he asked.

Anne glanced at the clock. “Yes, and try to remember not to stare at her chest the whole time you’re having lunch. It’s a dead giveaway.”

“Dude, it’ll be seriously hard.”

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“Try,” Hilton advised. “You’ll get to that place faster if you pretend to be interested in her mind. Remember, you’re not the only guy on the planet who wants to rent the condo with nipples.”

“Got it.”

“Condo with nipples?” Anne clicked in from her booth.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Hilton replied.

Dave started the bumper music and played “Brick House.”

Lillian came clunking in and the show began.

Anne interspersed the second segment of the show with pro and con calls. There was much heated debate and Anne pretty much let the callers do all the work. She engaged in one of her favorite pastimes, which was throwing pencils at the suspended fiberglass ceiling. There must have been a thousand pencils up there already. Every now and again, Ed would have maintenance change out the panels, he’d have a discussion with her about her proclivity, and then it would continue. No one had lost an eye yet.

Veronica came flying into the control room all out breath.

“Great goodness, you wouldn’t think getting a smoothie would be so difficult. It seems there’s some kind of fruit dispute and it’s suddenly extremely hard to come by. It’s a dock strike or something.”

“Veronica, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble, really.”

Hilton almost felt guilty. She did feel a little more confident, a little more in control. Attitude was everything and good clothes seem to help even if her hair was fucked up.

“You’ve got to keep your energy up.”

“Thank you,” Hilton said, taking a sip. Shannon woke up from her mid-morning nap and came sauntering over to check it out.

Hilton gave her a taste.

Dave was busy making it look like he was fainting from famine but Veronica pointedly ignored him. He must have been somewhat convincing because Shannon came over and licked his face.

Dave giggled and screamed.

Anne clicked on her mike from the radio booth as station identification played. “We need to get him a man or a testosterone shot. He’s acting like a girl again.”

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Dave managed to extricate himself from Shannon and stood up.

He grabbed his balls and said, “No way. I’m man, all man.”

“Whatever,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. She was back on the air.

Hilton was enjoying the show when Natalie arrived. Anne was having an animated conversation with a fervent atheist. Somehow Nat had wheedled her way past Veronica, which for Nat wouldn’t have been that difficult, Hilton thought. Nat could charm the smock off a nun if it was to her advantage. In fact, she probably had.

Hilton opened the door to the control room. “What are you doing here?” she asked. She stood in the doorway to block Nat’s entrance. Suddenly, she was concerned because Nat didn’t do things like show up at work. Half the time Nat had no idea where she was. They just sort of ran into each other whenever. They were actually more like sisters than lovers. Still, what love and sex and lust was between them hadn’t found a place to go or a way to end.

“I came to talk to you. I’m moving to Sherry’s for a little while.”

Nat pulled her knapsack up on her shoulder. It looked heavy and Hilton figured it was full of clothes. Not a lot, but enough to indicate this wasn’t an overnighter.

“What! You’re moving out?” Hilton could feel her heart pounding in her ears like the way waves make that thudding sound when they hit the beach.

“I just think it’ll be better if I wasn’t around while you’re having this thing with that pink-haired freak, Emily.” Nat peered into the booth at Anne who was twirling a pencil between her fingers like a baton.

“Nat, I’m not doing anything with Emily. I haven’t seen her since that night. You’ve seen more of her than I have. Really, I’m not that interested. You know, it was kind of a one-time thing.”

Hilton realized she was pleading. Part of her was totally disgusted.

After all, it was Nat who did most of the messing around. The other part of her was cringing in the corner with terror that the 78

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one person in her life masquerading as a constant was about to make a run for it.

“I always wondered what she looked like,” Nat said, apparently more interested in Anne than in the fact she was tearing Hilton’s world apart. She was like a child who’d spent all afternoon metic-ulously building a house with wooden blocks only to kick them all over in a gleeful act of total destruction.

“Nat, could we talk about us for a minute? You can’t just move out like this. What about us?” Hilton whispered. Dave was doing his best to pretend he wasn’t in the room.

“Oh, it’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll be back before you know it. You know how I am.” Nat touched her cheek. “I love you.”

Shannon came up behind her and peed on Nat’s pant leg.

Nat swung around. “Damn it! Why does she do that to me?”

“Because she can tell you’re upsetting me.” Hilton went and sat down in her chair. She could tell there was no reasoning with Nat.

She had made her decision and now it was time for action. That was one of the things Hilton admired yet despised about her. What was done was done and what needed to be done was done regard-less of how foolish or destructive the choice became.

“I’ve got to go. Sherry is waiting for me downstairs.”

“Great! Tell her hi for me,” Hilton said facetiously. She doubted Nat would get it. She never did.

Hilton watched her go and then got up, kicked her chair and went to the restroom.

She had her face in the sink and was running cold water over her eyes when Anne found her. Dave must have informed her.

“Are you all right?” Anne asked.

“Yeah.” Hilton dried her face. Her eyes were red and it was apparent she’d been crying.

“Was that Natalie?”

“Yeah, she’s going to move out for a while.”

“Oh.”

“I guess I should have seen that one coming. I’m not good at seeing her sucker punches coming. You’d think I would be.”

“Did Shannon pee on her?”

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Hilton smiled weakly. “Yeah, she does that sometimes.”

Anne started to laugh then contained herself. Then Hilton laughed.

“Got to love that dog,” Anne said.

“She’s better than any girlfriend I’ve had.”

“Which is pretty much Nat.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Can you get her to do that on command?”

“I don’t know. Why?” Hilton grabbed some toilet paper and blew her nose. There was no sense pretending she hadn’t been crying. Besides, with Anne somehow it didn’t matter. Anne knew what it was like to lose someone. Nat had hurt her and then she had a good little cry. She didn’t need to be ashamed. Sometimes she wished she had more normal people skills like Anne. Anne could handle any situation. Hilton always felt kind of awkward.

She thought one day she might outgrow her social phobias but that had yet to happen. She often wondered if it ever would.

“Because I’d like to take her to the monthly staff meeting and have her pee on people who are giving me a hard time.”

Hilton laughed.

Anne gave her a hug. “In a couple of days you’ll feel better and you’ll get more logical about it. I swear.” Anne held her for a minute longer than was probably necessary but neither of them pulled away. There was a knock at the door and they both jumped.

It was Dave. “Dudes, it’s, like, almost time.”

“I hate when he calls me a dude.”

“It’s kind of like a term of endearment,” Hilton replied.

“I’ll take you to lunch after our vet visit and we’ll have a couple of adult beverages and you’ll feel better.”

Hilton nodded. They had one more half-hour segment. Hilton was glad. She’d have some time to compose herself.

After the show, they took Shannon to the vet in Anne’s Chevy Avalanche. It appeared Shannon thought they were going for a ride until they got closer to the vet’s office. She must have memo-80

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rized its location because she started to whimper and whine the closer they got. Then she started pacing in the backseat. When Hilton pulled the leash out of her backpack, Shannon barked. She was seldom on a leash, so when it appeared, she knew for certain where they were going.

“Stop being such a baby. You think going for a pelvic exam is a treat and I still do it. It’ll take five minutes. I thought you liked Dr.

Vincente.”

Shannon whimpered again.

“This is sad,” Anne said, looking into the rearview mirror.

“Don’t buy into it. It’s quick and it’s necessary. I’m glad you came, though. Sometimes I have a little trouble getting her into the office.”

“Trouble?” Anne said, pulling into the parking lot Hilton had pointed to.

“You’ll see.”

It started with trying to get Shannon out of the backseat.

Hilton had Anne hold Shannon’s leash from the other direction while she pushed her. Hilton took hold of the leash and then she pulled and Anne pushed Shannon to the front door. Shirley, the vet tech, opened the door. She took the leash and Anne and Hilton pushed Shannon through the door.

“There is a downside to having big dogs,” Shirley said. She wiped a bead of sweat off the end of her nose. She was a petite, curly-headed redhead and Hilton had always admired her skill with animals. Shirley pulled a piece of dried black meat from her pocket. Shannon became a different dog instantly. She sat down and patiently waited for her treat.

“Do you have any more of those?” Hilton asked.

“We just got a shipment in. I saved two bags for you. You can buy one and your friend can buy one,” Shirley said, winking at them.

“Are they a precious commodity?” Anne inquired as they followed Shirley into the examination room.

“They are if you’re a dog and there’s a limit of one bag per cus-tomer,” Hilton explained.

“What are they?”

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“They’re air-dried, grass-fed buffalo livers.”

“Yum,” Anne said.

“Dogs will do anything for them,” Shirley said as she prepared the vaccinations for the vet.

Dr. Vincente came in. She was a tall, leggy blonde with her hair pulled back in a bun. She wore purple scrubs and faded black high-top sneakers. She held out her hand and Shannon came over and licked.

“See, this isn’t so bad,” Hilton said.

Dr. Vicente smiled at Hilton. “Had a bit of a time getting her in here.”

“Just a little,” Hilton replied. “Luckily, I had help.”

“Aren’t you Anne Counterman?” Dr. Vicente asked, staring intently at her.

“Yes.”

“We listen to your show every morning in the office. My goodness, you’re absolutely hysterical and right on target.”

“Why, thank you,” Anne said.

Hilton noticed that Anne blushed slightly at the compliment.

“Well, Shannon, don’t we have important and famous friends.”

Dr. Vicente scratched her ears and fed her another piece of buffalo liver. She gently inserted the needle beneath Shannon’s scruff.

Judging from her lack of response, she must not have felt a thing.

Dr. Vicente looked in her ears, listened to her heart and pro-nounced her fit.

Shannon bounded out of the exam room but kept a close eye on Anne and the two bags of buffalo livers. Hilton was writing a check at the reception counter while Anne was inspecting the display of dried things that dogs liked. She picked up one that looked like a long brown cigar. She ran it under her nose like a cigar.

“What’s this?” she asked, taking a closer look.

“It looks like one of those rawhide chewy things,” Hilton ventured.

“Actually, it’s a dried bull penis,” Shirley said as she handed Hilton her receipt.

Anne dropped it instantly. She was clearly aghast.

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“It seems to have that effect on a lot of people,” Shirley said diplomatically.

“I think I’ll wash my hands.”

Shirley and Hilton waited until she was out of earshot before they exploded into giggles.

“Parts are parts, I guess,” Hilton said.

“We had one woman in here who bought a half-dozen because she wanted to make her husband uncomfortable.”

“I bet we’ll hear about the bull penis episode on the show tomorrow,” Hilton said.

“Nothing like free advertising,” Shirley said.

“If they don’t have a pet with them, don’t let them in,” Hilton warned. “They will have only come to see the oddities on display.”

Anne looked relieved now that she had washed her hands. She gave the jar of bull penises a dirty look on the way out the door.

When they got to the car, Anne said, “You know, for hanging out with a lesbian I’ve sure had a lot of exposure to male genitalia lately.”

Hilton just smiled. “Where are we going for lunch?”

“You pick.” Anne started the car and Shannon let out an audible sigh.

“She’ll sleep now. Let’s go somewhere horribly decadent.”

“I know just the place. It’s a fondue bar, nice quiet booths, great food and wine list, and the desserts are to die for.”

“Will I be drowning my sorrows like a straight girl?”

“You will.” Anne pulled into traffic and headed downtown to the restaurant. The fog that had hovered over the city most of the morning had lifted and a seldom seen but much admired blue sky permeated the afternoon.

Hilton looked over at Anne and smiled. Maybe today wouldn’t be a total wash after all. It was funny to think that she’d rather spend the afternoon with Anne than Nat anyway. So what did that really say about their relationship? she wondered. Maybe it was time to cut the cord.

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Date: 2015-04-20; view: 678