Internally, I cringed.
“You know, we could use your handyman skills if you're for hire. Stan keeps saying he's gonna tend to this or that, and I have a good mind to just get it done. He wouldn't even notice, I'm sure.”
I didn't like the sound of that. “Lemonade? Iced tea?” I offered.
“You know what I like,” Barbie quipped.
“How about half and half?” Bobby suggested, almost flirtatiously. Barbie leaned forward as if his drink request meant something else.
“That actually sounds good,” I said, pouring myself the same concoction.
“Well, I'll let you two ladies get back to whatever it is you do.”
I rolled my eyes behind my cup as I took a sip.
“Oh nonsense!” Barbie exclaimed. “Join us. All we're doing is having some drinks and playing rummy. It looks like you've done enough free labor for today.”
I knew this would happen as soon as Barbie invited herself over, and I had already decided I would let it slide.
“I'm sweaty and stinky. You don't want me at the table.”
“So? Shower or hose yourself down. I wasn't kidding.”
Barbie was always tart with the cute young men at the pool or the grocery store but now she was in full effect and I actually admired the prowess. It was quite entertaining.
I watched with one eyebrow cocked as Bobby looked over at me. I simply shrugged, leaving him stranded on Barbie Island.
“Oh, come on!” Barbie stood up, grabbing Bobby by the forearm and dragging him out to the backyard. Never one to pass up on an adventure, Bobby shrugged and let her lead him out.
“Okay, stand there,” she ordered, the cigarette still magically dangling from her lips. “Where's the hose?” she asked.
“Over there.” I pointed. She wobbled on her heels along the grass to the side of the house.
“Ready?” she called out.
“I guess?” Bobby replied with his hands up at his sides.
“Okay!” Barbie turned the knob at the base of the hose and aimed the frigid stream of water at him.
He called out some curse words as she soaked him, mud running down the entirety of his body. His shirt became transparent, the slopes of his arms like tiny brooks as water streamed down them.
“Woohoo!” he yelled, leaning into the water so that his hair became drenched. He slicked it away from his face and then shook ferociously like a dog. I scurried away from the resulting spray of water.
It actually worked and he was reasonably clean, albeit soaked.
“Well, now how am I supposed to go back in like this?” he asked. “I feel like cattle.”
“I'll go get you a towel, just pull off your wet clothes and I'll bring you something of Rory's.” I headed to the house. “But keep your skivvies on!” I pointed back at him.
“Oh great, I get to dress like Rory,” he murmured.
I came back out to the yard with some old clothes of Rory's and a towel. I almost tripped out the door to find Bobby completely naked, just covering his crotch.
“What the—” I looked over to the neighboring yards. “Are you insane?” I whispered.
“Don't worry, I closed my eyes,” Barbie chimed.
“What's the point of putting on dry clothes over wet underwear?” he argued.
I hated him at that moment. For being so fun and spontaneous. For being so tall, tanned, and sculpted.
“Can you hand me the towel, please?” he asked with a touch of playful snark.
“I'm not getting near you,” I protested.
“If you toss it a hand goes up. I'm not sure one hand can cover it all.”
I was certain it wouldn't.
“Oh just give the man a towel!” Barbie and her terrible peer pressure.
I shook my head in dismay. “Oh, fine!” I marched over to Bobby. “Here.” I jutted out my hand with the towel.
“Thank you,” he said with an exaggerated head bow as he quickly snagged the towel with one hand to keep his crotch covered. I turned away to get a reasonable distance, when I felt his large hand grip my forearm and yank me so that I fell back on him.
I yelped as I realized I had been setup. Betrayed. Bamboozled.
“Now!” he yelled, as Barb dug into a quarter squat and went to town on me with the hose while Bobby held me down. I screamed and kicked as he gripped me around the waist with one arm, the other arm keeping the towel between us. No matter how hard I wrestled, his strong arm kept me in place until I was thoroughly doused.
His laughter howled in my ear and for those few seconds, it was like we were sixteen again. Bobby taunting me and making my life hell and me loving every second of it.
Finally, he let me go.
“You jerk!” I called out, my hair in wet clusters stuck to my neck and forehead. “And you!” I pointed at Barbie. “Et tu Brutus!”
“I'm sorry, I don't speak German.” She dropped the hose and raised her hands like she was under arrest. “He was just too convincing.” I knew exactly what she meant.
“You're gonna have to get your own towel this time around, you bastard.” I glared at Bobby and that sly smile. And in that moment, the inspiration hit me to do what I would have always done with Bobby, if I wasn't overcompensating in the other direction, staying away from him like he had some sort of plague. If we were going to be normal, then we had to be the way we were before things changed.
I knew he wouldn't see it coming when I snatched the towel, leaving him buck naked, chasing me into the house as Barbie's cigarette finally fell out of her mouth.
“Rummy!” Barbie slapped down her hand on the table. We had managed to lose hours playing this game. Teasing and laughing with each other all the while. Empty beer bottles littered the table. We had all had some and the giddy mood in the room was evidence of this. Barbie looked up at the clock and pouted. It was almost nine.
“I guess I should go relieve the nanny of her duties. Stan went on a last minute trip after all, so I'm all by my lonesome with them.” She slowly motioned for her bags. It was obvious she really didn't want to go.
“Oh, darn it. You drove. I'm not used to walking by myself at night.”
“Barb¸ it's five houses down,” I remarked. I knew what she was trying for. I observed her body language all night as she soaked up any attention that went her way. I didn't know if Barbie was capable of being so bold as to try to seduce Bobby, but her husband was out of town, and I wouldn't completely dismiss the possibility.
“I'll walk you,” Bobby pressed his palms against the table to rise. “No need for a lady to walk by herself at night.”
I clenched for the feeling in my gut like I would a punch. Jealousy. I had no right, and yet the feeling was familiar. Bobby had so many girlfriends growing up. Sometimes we went on double dates and I was a witness to his gifts. I didn't realize at the time it was jealousy. I told myself it was disgust at the way he hopped from girl to girl, or the way they made themselves so available to him. It was easy to believe that little fire stoked by the sight of Bobby and another girl was something else.
Bobby was here to learn how to live with the fact that I married Rory. And I guess I had to do the same. So I could pass my judgements about how Barbie was married, or silly, or easy. But it wasn't any of my business.
I tidied up the kitchen, trying to distract myself from counting the minutes since he left with Barbie. One minute. Three. Five.
The back door that directed into the kitchen opened and Bobby came in. I let out a hidden sigh of relief. But maybe they kissed or they planned to see each other again, I thought. Bobby didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt.
“Well, your friend's interesting.”
I knew that tone, and relief once again took over.
I shrugged as I rinsed out the beer bottles. “She is fun. You have to admit.”
“Yeah, she was hosing me down within about five minutes of meeting her.”
“In her defense, she met you once before.”
“Ah, ye
s. We spent so much time together that first meeting,” he quipped sarcastically. “I think it's good to have interesting friends. Including the difficult ones, so long as they mean well.”
I turned off the faucet and the room went quiet. It was the first time Bobby and I were alone in the house at night. The air was thick with humidity and that constant energy that built up between us, needing to be diffused.
“Alright,” he clapped, “shower up. Get dressed in something pretty but comfortable.”
“Huh?” I asked, completely taken by surprise.
“There's someone I want you to meet.”
“Who?”
“A good friend, his name is Willis.”
“And where is this Willis?”
“Chicago.”
“Chicago!” That was about ninety minutes away. “I don't know . . . it's late.”
“It's nine, grandma. Besides, you got somewhere to be?”
I pursed my lips disapprovingly as I cast a sidelong glance at Bobby. He was wearing Rory's baby blue shorts and a white plaid button down short sleeve shirt. So not his style.
“Screw it,” I proclaimed, throwing the kitchen towel at the sink. “Give me thirty minutes.”
Seven years earlier
“Does Bobby have a girlfriend?” My cousin Mildred asked just as I eyed the placement of my croquet ball on the grass.
“I don’t know. It seems he’s always seeing someone. Never seriously.” My eyes never left their target on the ground. “Why do you ask?” I knew why she was asking.
“Well . . . he’s just so handsome and funny,” she giggled which triggered her sister to add to the chorus.
“How original,” I muttered under my breath as I reared my mallet back to strike the ball.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“Huh? Nothing. Just this stinking grass is not level,” I answered, covering up my sour tone.
It wasn’t that I didn’t think or know Bobby was those things. The sky was blue, the grass was green. Bobby was textbook good-looking and yes, he did make me laugh when he wasn’t getting on my nerves. But that was precisely it. Bobby was those things to people without getting on their nerves and he seemed to always strike every last one of mine when the mood struck him. He had done so ever since we were little. And I always found myself fielding questions from girls who thought I had the key to some sort of secret portal into Bobby Lightly’s heart or trousers.
Don’t get me wrong. Bobby and I were friends, but it was an adversarial friendship. One that was still transitioning from childhood to adulthood and doing so awkwardly. We would have moments of great maturity, especially during the years I visited home from college. Those were often in the tone of polite conversation, catching up on life and whatnot. But then there would be outright juvenile moments, as if he and I couldn’t quite figure out how to relate to each other without reverting to sniping and teasing. This was much to the dismay of Rory, my fiancé, who was often caught in the midst of our hot and cold relationship.
It was my turn again, and I focused my attention on the red ball, hugged by the bright green grass, as I heard muted giggles. My cousins were such gigglers. They would be on their way to university in the fall and I thought that would snuff the giggles right out of them.
I looked up at Mildred and her sister, Agnes, and they both had covered their mouths with their hands.
“What’s so—?”
Just then a hand roughed through my prim up-do and disheveled it. I didn’t even have to look back to know who it was. Knowing Bobby, he had stood behind me, his finger over his lips to silence the smitten girls as he made fun of my stance before making a point to fuss with my hair.
“Darn it, Bobby!” I yelled, spinning around with the mallet, threatening to clobber him to death. He rose his hands in self-defense, and stumbled backwards over his feet.
“Wait! Wait! I have a message.” He grabbed the end of the mallet as I tried to wrestle it out of his grip. “Your sister wants to see you. I guess she and your mother have questions about tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. The day I would officially promise to share my life with Rory. Rory who was good-looking, smart, and ambitious. Rory who had chased me for years and seemed to think the world of me, despite the fact that he could have his pick of the litter. I was lucky to have him, I told myself.
“Ugh, what now!” I slumped my shoulders and Bobby let his end of mallet go, so that it pivoted to the ground. I leaned my weight against it. “Well, I guess I need go see about what they want.” I turned to the girls. “Keep playing, I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Hi Milly. Aggie.” Bobby looked over me and waved coquettishly to the flaxen-haired twins. I could feel the reverberations of their hearts exploding from feet away. But I knew from his overly flirtatious tone that he was just having fun.
We walked through the grass side by side until we came to one of the gravel paths that lead to various stations on the estate. A weathered bike lay on its side, a quick mode of transportation through the vast property. Random bikes and scooters could be found lying in the grass for anyone who felt like shortening their travel.
“Want a ride?”
“Sure.” I sulked. “Did she say what she wanted? Mom and Julia together are so overwhelming.”
“Nope. Just that it was about the wedding.”
“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be with Rory and the other boys?”
“They’re out waterskiing. I’ll catch up with them later. I volunteered to stay back a bit and do some heavy lifting.”
“That’s awfully nice of you,” I admitted with a hint of surprise.
“Don’t be so shocked,” Bobby remarked. “Why aren’t you in the water anyway? Croquet? I think I’ve seen you play maybe three times before.”
“It’s my cousins. They don’t want to get wet. They’re like porcelain dolls, those two. And somehow, though they are here for me, I need to entertain them. Plus, Rory and I agreed to stay apart today, build anticipation.”
Bobby shrugged his shoulders and reached down to pick up the bike. “Well,” he said mischievously, “I have something you can take a break with if you’re up for it.”
“What’s that?” I skeptically placed a hand on my hip.
Bobby looked from side to side and reached into his pocket, pulling out a rolled up piece of white paper.
“Robert Fitzpatrick Lightly!” I scolded. “Reefer?”
“Shhh!” He flitted his eyebrows. “You want in?”
“I’m getting married tomorrow!” I insisted in a hushed tone.
“God Lil, you’re not dying tomorrow, just getting married.” He jutted up his chin. “Have you ever?”
I had, once before. With Margaret MacDonald, my old college roommate. She was dating a townie and he gave her a cigarette laced with some marijuana. We stuffed towels under our room door and exhaled out the window. I didn’t feel much. “Yes . . .”
This was the fun I had with Bobby. He was spontaneous. And I wanted to be spontaneous, too. Rory was predictable, and I loved that about him. He was a safe place, but Bobby kept me on my toes. Bobby and Rory were like two ends of a seesaw, and I spent my time with them standing in the middle, teetering. That balance was what made our threesome so much fun.
“And for your information, I don’t think I am dying tomorrow, whatever you meant by that. Just that I want to be in a good state.”
“You’ll be fine in a few hours.”
I crossed my arms and watched the joint twirling in his fingers. “Well, fine, but we need to do it somewhere quiet where no guests can find us, and quick before Julia starts sticking her nose everywhere.”
“Hop on then,” Bobby ordered, wrapping his leg around the bike.
I sat sideways on the top bar as he pedaled to the furthest end of the estate, by one of the docks. We jumped off the bike, where he abandoned it, and then we trudged past some low-hanging branches into the untamed woods we both knew so well. We found a downed tree
, where we thought we would be safe from prying eyes and noses, and sat.
Bobby pulled out a Zippo lighter and placed the flame to one taut end of the joint while he pursed his lips around the other and sucked in. The end of the white paper curled into a burnt orange and black ember that illuminated as he drew in and dulled when he stopped.
“Here,” he said hoarsely, his chest puffed up while he held in the smoke.
“Maybe I shouldn’t.”
A hazy white trail snaked from his lips as they formed a plump O. “You’ll be fine tomorrow. But it’s your call.” His tone was indifferent, but he couldn’t resist adding a light jab next. “What? Just ‘cause you’re marrying my brother, you’re supposed to suddenly become a nun or something?” he hissed acerbically. “Can’t fool me. I know ya’, Lil.”
“Oh and Rory doesn’t?”
“I never said that. Just that he sees you differently. Like a prize. Rory’s all about winning things.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You’re right, I don’t know my brother at all,” Bobby retorted sarcastically.
“And I am no thing to be won,” I snapped.
“Never said that either.”
“And how Rory and I feel is none of your business anyway.” I shifted my seating position in protest to Bobby’s observations. I was inclined to ask Bobby how he saw me. But that would show too much deference to his opinion.
“Yeesh. You’re awfully defensive today. I thought you would be flattered.”
“You? Flatter me?” I barked out a sarcastic laugh. My eyes wandered back to the joint between his fingers.
“It’ll take the edge off, if you’re nervous.”
“Nervous? Why would I be nervous?” I countered defensively.
“Isn’t everyone when they’re getting married?” he posited innocently. But his words had spoken to a secret I had been hiding.
“I suppose.” I rolled my eyes. Maybe Bobby was right. Maybe it was normal to feel hesitant. To not gush at the thought of my impeding union with Rory. It was normal to feel off before a wedding, wasn’t it?
I gave one last hard look at the skinny cigarette and pulled it from his fingers.
Swelter Page 5
