Chapter Eight

Hilton and Anne finally got to the house about five-thirty.

They had to stop and get gauze, tape and Anne’s prescription for antibiotics filled. Hilton guided them through the back door knowing that the living room was most likely quite busy. Veronica was in the kitchen making a cheese and cracker platter that looked like something straight out of Martha Stewart’s magazine. Hilton noticed she’d changed from her office attire to tight black pants and a green and blue paisley ruffled blouse. Her long brown hair hung down her back and swirled around her firm breasts. She was actually beautiful in that haute couture way, Hilton thought.

Veronica looked up from her work. “How’s the thumb?”

Anne held it up. “The doctor says I’ll get to keep the thumb and lose the nail. I can handle that. I’ve got to keep in wrapped and in this splint for a few days to protect it.”

Hilton peeked around the corner into the living room, where she could hear Melissa crying. Liz was sitting next to her, holding 101

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her hand and looking empathetic. Jessie was prostrate before her, sitting crouched on the floor, most likely promising things she couldn’t deliver. This was only the second time she’d seen Melissa.

The night at the party she’d only noticed that she was petite and blond. Now Hilton took a harder look. Melissa had a pretty face with a slightly upturned nose and dark brown eyes. She looked exactly like the Barbie doll’s friend Skipper. It was a pity that losing the bear was probably going to remove her from their lives.

Jessie got up and came in the kitchen. She handed Anne a cigar and a brandy, which had been sitting on the counter. “It’s not going over well,” she said.

“Give her a minute,” Hilton said hopefully. She noticed that Jessie had also changed. She was wearing jeans and a tight white T-shirt that showed off her well-defined shoulders and firm abdomen. She picked up one of the radishes off the tray Veronica was preparing. It looked like a tiny red chicken complete with wings and a little beak. “I’ve never actually known anyone who could do that,” she said, pointing at the radishes.

Veronica smiled. “It’s quite simple actually. When I’m nervous I do things like this.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” Jessie said as she touched Veronica’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to be part of the problem. I want to help solve it.”

Anne was in the process of lighting her cigar and started to choke. At first, Hilton though she was being facetious about Veronica’s comment but then concluded that Anne had no idea what she was doing. Melissa and Liz came into the room.

“I did the same thing,” Melissa said. She smiled weakly and Liz squeezed her hand.

“The guys make it look so easy,” Anne said, gesturing with the cigar.

“You have to suck slowly and hold the smoke in your mouth and then exhale,” Jessie said. She lit her own with absolute finesse.

“I’ll try it again if you will,” Anne said to Melissa.

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“Okay,” Melissa said. She took a cigar from the box on the kitchen counter.

Both she and Anne sucked slowly and didn’t inhale this time, and both executed a near-perfect display of cigar smoking.

“Awesome,” Jessie said.

Hilton took this time to sneak into the living room and check out the new stuff. The mangy cloth sofa had been replaced with a chic brown leather one with a matching chair and ottoman. A flat-screen television replaced the old set. One wall of the living room now housed a cherry wood entertainment center complete with a state-of-the-art stereo system. The wood floor had been scrubbed clean and almost looked shiny, and a beautiful red rug with strate-gically placed different colored geometric circles was placed in the middle of the room.

“It’s Peruvian,” Jessie said. “But it was on sale. It’s handwoven and helps the economy of the native people. Something about an art co-op thing. I don’t know. I just thought it was a cool rug.”

“Nice, Jessie. I had no idea you had such good taste,” Hilton said.

“I have taste, just no cash to go with it. You really don’t mind?”

“No. I have cash and no taste. Maybe you could fix up the place.” Hilton gave her a hug. “Thanks, Jessie.” She was beginning to feel better about Nat being gone. “Maybe we should paint too,”

she mused, staring at the dingy white walls. The ceiling in the living room had a water stain from a plumbing problem upstairs.

“And fix the plumbing,” Jessie suggested.

“Now that no one will sleep with the plumber,” Hilton replied.

“How about a new fridge?” Liz said as she came into the room followed by Melissa, Anne and Veronica.

“One that doesn’t leak,” Hilton replied.

“Exactly. No more bailing out the produce crisper,” Liz said.

She flounced down on the couch and Melissa snuggled up next to her.

“What a concept,” Hilton said.

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“Are you feeling better about the changes in your life?” Liz asked her.

Hilton took a sip of her brandy, surveyed the room again and nodded. “I do believe I am. If we change some things around I might actually forget about her.”

Jessie gave her a look that said, “Not in this lifetime.”

“I can dream,” Hilton said.

“Hilton’s girlfriend dumped her for this biker chick,” Jessie explained to the others. “I mean, the chick is hot but she doesn’t hold a candle to Hilton.”

“Jessie!” Liz reprimanded.

“I’m only telling it like it is,” Jessie said. She sat down cross-legged on the rug. Anne took the chair and Hilton sat down next to Melissa on the couch. Veronica sat primly on the ottoman.

“Hilton, I’m so sorry. I know just how you must feel,” Melissa said. She patted Hilton’s thigh sympathetically.

In that moment Hilton knew Melissa would be all right and that she was the best thing that ever could have happened to Liz.

“Thanks, Melissa.”

“You’re right, though, if you change things it reminds you less,”

Melissa said. She took Liz’s hand and smiled at her benevolently.

“Liz is helping me forget.”

“Oh, hey, Hilton, I forgot to show you the best part,” Jessie said as she jumped up. She flipped on the stereo. “I got us XM satellite radio and get this, it’s got a salsa station.” She found the station and grabbed Veronica.

Veronica, Hilton, Jessie and Liz knew how to dance.

“Why it that?” Anne asked as the four of them danced together.

“Jessie dated a salsa instructor for about a month and we all got free lessons,” Liz said.

“Who’d you date?” Veronica asked as she and Jessie swayed in perfect time to the music.

“Chichita Alvarez,” Jessie said.

“So did I,” Veronica said. “She was hot.”

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“But crazy and possessive,” Jessie added.

Anne looked at Hilton inquiringly. “No, we don’t all date the same people and yes, I’m going to teach you how,” Hilton replied.

Liz took Melissa’s hand and led her out on the floor. Jessie turned the music up a notch higher and soon Melissa and Liz were getting it together.

“You know I’m rhythmically impaired,” Anne said, following Hilton to an empty area in the corner of the room.

“This is different than freestyle dance. There are prescribed moves,” Hilton said. She placed her hands on Anne’s hips as professionally as she could muster, but she couldn’t help but feel their closeness acutely. She studied Anne’s face for a moment.

“Have I ever told you that I have the best time with you?” Anne said.

“Am I really that entertaining?”

“Or are my other friends that boring? Oh, yeah, they’re all married with two-point-five children and bitchy.”

Hilton laughed. “Come on, let me show you the moves.”

After about three songs Anne and Melissa had the rudimentary parts down, not that they’d win a salsa competition but that didn’t deter from the level of fun they were all having. Hilton looked over to see Melissa smiling and giggling as Liz moved her around, and Anne was making a pretty good partner. She’d only stepped on Hilton’s foot twice and tripped them both once.

“We need margaritas,” Veronica said with a laugh.

“Yes!” Jessie replied. They headed off to the kitchen.

They returned shortly with a pitcher of margaritas and the evening was off to a fine start. Hilton knew the lost bear was still in the back of everyone’s mind, but music and fun had a lot of mileage on the road to distraction.

Hours later, Hilton and Anne sat on the back porch steps cooling off. The sky was clear and the yard almost looked well-105

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trimmed in the light of the quarter moon. Much of the deciduous flora had shed its summer leaves, giving a false sense of neatness to the landscaping.

“Good God, I bet I burned off five thousand calories, despite the cheese platter, the nachos and the margaritas,” Anne said. She lit her cigar. “I think I’m getting the hang of these.”

“I think you are, and about the calories, have you ever seen a fat salsa dancer?”

Anne laughed. “Uh, no. Hey, what’s that over there?” she said, pointing into the dimness.

“It’s the cottage. I think it was the servants’ quarters at one time. It’s my bedroom now.”

“But I thought you slept in the attic.”

“What did you think that I slept in the middle of the skate bowl?”

“Is that what that thing is?”

“Yeah, I bought it off this guy for five hundred bucks. We took it apart and then reassembled it in the attic. I love to skateboard but the parks are so crowded with kids who look at you funny now that you’re old in their eyes. So I made my own.”

“You are the only skateboarder I know that’s over twelve.”

“See.”

“This is a great house.” Anne looked up at the third story.

“It needs some work, and now that Nat’s gone along with her destructive entourage we can fix it up. You want to see the cottage?”

“Sure.”

Shannon was inside sleeping on the bed. She licked Anne’s hand and curled up. “Had a long day, girl?” Hilton said.

The cottage looked suspiciously clean. Jessie’s Merry Maids must have made a swoop through the cottage as well. All her records were neatly stacked and everything looked dusted. The carpet had definitely been vacuumed.

“This is cute,” Anne said. She sat down on the water bed.

“Whoa!”

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Shannon opened an eye and sighed heavily. She was obviously perturbed.

“Sorry about that. I haven’t sat on one of these in forever.”

Anne looked around the room some more. “Quite the record collection.”

“It’s another one of my passions.”

“Play me something.”

“Sure. Do you want a beer?” Hilton opened her dorm fridge and peered inside. There were four Rolling Rocks and one Amstel Light.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think between my thumb and the margaritas I’ve got enough going on trying to get home.”

“You relinquished the right to drive after your third margarita.”

“Are you making me hand over my car keys?” Anne took the beer Hilton handed her.

“I still have them.”

“That’s right.” Anne took a sip of beer.

“You can have the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.” Hilton studied her record piles looking for just the right tune.

“Hilton, this bed is enormous. I think the three of us can find room enough to sleep. I promise not to seduce you.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Hilton blushed.

“Let’s have a nightcap and call it an evening,” Anne said.

“I’ll go get a bowl of ice for your hand. Remember, the doctor said you’re supposed to ice it to keep the swelling down.”

“You know, it’s funny he didn’t mention margaritas, salsa or cigars. Those activities have done wonders as well.”

“You’re a terrible patient,” Hilton said. She put on a Van Morrison record and went back to the house.

The stereo was turned off and Jessie and Veronica were nowhere in sight. Hilton was poking around in the freezer in search of ice when she heard Liz and Melissa in the hallway.

“I don’t think it’s such a bad idea,” Liz said gently.

“I just think if I remove myself from my normal surroundings I won’t think about her,” Melissa said.

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“I’d love for you to stay. We’ve got extra linens. We could set you up in my room and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

There was silence.

“Or we could both sleep in your room,” Melissa suggested.

“If you’d like.”

Then they were quiet. Hilton smiled. She imagined Liz’s face as she tried to mask her fear and desire. Hilton wondered how successful she was.

When she got back to the cottage Anne had fallen asleep.

Hilton removed her shoes and pulled the comforter over her. She turned the record player off. Shannon was snoring slightly. Hilton put the bowl of ice on Anne’s side of the bed then looked at Anne for a moment. She could almost imagine them doing this all the time. She suppressed the urge to curl up next to her and stroke her cheek and then kiss her softly on the lips. She sighed, thinking, not in this lifetime. It was like the pretend game she played as a child where her mother was alive and her father was nice and they all lived in blissful communion. Her brow wrinkled in consternation and she turned off the light.

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Date: 2015-04-20; view: 686