Scarlet Oaks and the Serial Caller

by Michaela James

  The Bobbi Brown counter was in clear sight, but Scarlet’s focus was diverted upon hearing a woman’s raised voice. Stealing a curious glance at the source, she almost fell over a small child. Apologizing to the child’s mother, Scarlet kept her head down, taking brisk steps to her destination. Hiding behind a large display of elaborately wrapped boxes, Scarlet studied the couple at the nearby counter. There was no question; the man with the angry woman was Gary.

  In hushed tones, Scarlet answered the girl behind the counter,

  “I’m looking for an eyeshadow, brown and gold tones, I think.”

  Leaning over the counter towards Scarlet, the Bobbi Brown makeup artist enquired, “Are your eyes blue or green?”

  Staring right past the girl towards the other counter, Scarlet distractedly nodded while the Bobbi Brown artist chatted about new and exciting colors for the season.

  The woman with Gary appeared to be complaining about not getting a gift with her purchase. A taller, older woman had now come to the aid of the red-faced assistant. In a clear and precise manner, she reiterated what the flustered assistant had already explained, their promotion ended yesterday.

  “So, you’ll lose a valued customer over one lousy day, is that what you’re telling me?” The woman retorted, her voice increasing with each word.

  The employee, Scarlet guessed to be a supervisor, apologized for the strict start and end dates associated with giveaways. She explained that sadly, they were unable to make exceptions. Clearly, this customer had no interest in rules and explanations. She continued her tirade using various insults and curses. Not a moment too soon, two burly security guards walked up to the counter.

  Thankfully, the young girl helping Scarlet had also chosen to watch this scene unfold.

  After the uniformed men firmly offered to escort the angry woman from the store, she, while pushing their hands from her arm, turned to Gary, and spat, “As usual, you have nothing to say, you’re just going to stand back and let these people mistreat me.”

  Head down, Gary expressed in a barely audible voice, “You just keep talking, you don’t know when to shut up.”

  Scarlet turned away, a shiver running up her spine and tingling momentarily on the back of her neck.

  Opening a small black box, the Bobbi Brown artist said, “The holidays sure do bring out the worst in some people.”

  Nodding her head as she watched the couple disappear in the distance, Scarlet replied, “Yes, they do.”

  Presenting the small case of eyeshadows, as if she were a Sommelier in a fancy restaurant, the girl said, “These colors will look stunning on you.”

  Scarlet smiled politely. “They’re actually a Christmas gift for my Mother.”

  “Wonderful,” the girl exclaimed, “I’ll gift wrap it for you.”

  Ten minutes later, instead of heading to the toy department as planned, Scarlet made her way to Starbucks on the fourth floor. Acknowledging there were benefits to being alone, Scarlet nabbed the one remaining stool seat overlooking Union Square.

  Sipping on her latte, Scarlet struggled to process what she’d just seen. Surely that couldn’t have been Gary. But if it was him, who on earth was the woman? Scarlet thought back to their one and only date in Italian town. The lighting had been low, and it was dark when they’d walked to her car. With an aha moment, Scarlet dug through a typically cluttered purse and retrieved her cell phone. Pulling up the dating site, she carefully studied Gary’s headshot. The photo was a little fuzzy, but no, that was not the same man she’d just seen at the cosmetic counter. Scarlet smiled as she imagined what Niles would say, Gosh, Scar, Gary must be the only tall blond man in the state of California!

  Relaxed enough to actually taste the latte, Scarlet people watched until the last bit of foam was consumed, then forged ahead to the toy store.

  Mesmerized by glittering lights on the Christmas tree, Scarlet stood in Union Square once again. Her eyes were focused upward while her thoughts were full of contemplation. Did her sister-in-law, Lisa, truly care what colors represented the devil? Perhaps she just enjoyed knowing how hard it was for family members to find children’s toys without any red on them. Contemplation morphed into resentment when she remembered Lisa was excluding Scarlet’s mother and presumably all the Oaks family from seeing the boys at Christmas.

  Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Scarlet turned to face… Gary.

  “Are you okay?” he enquired. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  Attempting to regulate her breathing, Scarlet replied, “I’m fine, just a little chilly I guess.”

  Smiling broadly, Gary suggested, “Well, let’s get you inside then. I thought we’d have a bite before starting our shopping. How does the Rotunda at Neiman Marcus sound?”

  Unable to look him in the eye, Scarlet found an urgent need to close the clasp on her purse. “Lovely.”

  Thankful for the crowds making it almost impossible to hold a conversation while walking, Scarlet used the time to plan a quick getaway. She’d say her grandmother was unwell and she needed to go see her before work. No, she wouldn’t say that. It always felt like tempting fate to lie about a loved one’s health. Her car was being serviced before heading out of town for the holidays. But she’d have known that before agreeing to this meeting. She needed to get a grip. Yes, this was the man she saw in Macy’s, but there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it.

  “Fourth floor, I believe,” Gary said as they entered the upscale department store.

  Wanting to interject, liar liar, Scarlet listened as Gary told her he’d come straight from the office and was worried he’d made her wait. As they alighted from the escalator, Scarlet said, “I wouldn’t have minded, but I’m afraid I can’t stay as long as I’d hoped. My car was acting up a little on the way here. I’d like to get it checked out before everything closes for the holidays.”

  Gary, unfortunately, asked for details about the car’s problems. Scarlet circumvented the topic by alluding she didn’t know the trunk from the hood.

  Mercifully, they were both distracted by the arrival of the maître d’.

  With a practiced smile and an outstretched arm, the maître d’ exclaimed, “You’re in luck. I have a window table.”

  Scarlet thought cynically, of course, you do, but when I’m here with someone I like, you’ll be all out of exceptional views.

  Forcing an attitude adjustment, Scarlet enjoyed her bird's eye view of Union Square. Aiding this shift was the maître d’s suggestion of a high tea.

  Scarlet kept her eyes heavenward longer than necessary while Gary educated her on the twenty-five hundred pieces of colored glass in the dome above their heads. When her neck began to protest, she diverted Gary’s attention to the busy ice rink outside. It took just a couple more minutes of small talk until an eye-catching two-tier tower, laden with sandwiches, scones, cakes, and cookies arrived at their table. Scarlet, silently vowing to bring Niles and Tom here as a late Christmas gift, oohed and aahed over the miniature opera cakes. Wishing she’d ordered a tall over her Grande Latte, Scarlet thanked Gary for the suggestion to come to the Rotunda, before plucking an open-faced cucumber sandwich from the lower tier.

  Able to catch every fourth or fifth word as Gary talked about a particularly challenging case he was working on, Scarlet resumed her musings on the identity of Gary’s earlier companion. She certainly wasn’t old enough to be his mother. Besides, he’d just said on the phone this morning he didn’t see his parents or his sisters. But, he’d also said he’d come straight from the office, and she knew that wasn’t true. It had to have been a woman who felt comfortable with him, although Gary would probably use a different adjective.

  Realizing more than five words had passed, and Gary had stopped talking, Scarlet was forced to say,

  “Sorry, Gary, I was miles away for a minute there.”

  Chuckling, Gary replied, “The Christmas season can do that to a person. I was just asking whether you have any spare time for a lonely guy over Chri
stmas. Even an hour would be enough to share a hot chocolate together.”

  Her jam and cream laden scone poised in the air, Scarlet replied, “Gosh Gary, I’m afraid it’s unlikely because I have to see so many family members in different parts of the state.” Smiling, she added sarcastically, “We’re all celebrating separately, like a real American family.”

  “I understand,” he replied, looking like a small child whose favorite toy had just been confiscated.

  Scarlet gave Gary a sympathetic smile and grabbed the check from the approaching waiter before her date had a fighting chance.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Gary argued.

  Unzipping her black leather wallet, Scarlet replied, “You bought that delicious meal in Baldovinos. It’s my turn to treat.”

  Ignoring his protests, Scarlet handed her credit card to the attentive waiter.

  Minutes later the receipt arrived and with it, a couple of pink boxes.

  At Gary’s insistence she take all the leftovers, Scarlet said, “A single man could use some tasty treats over the holidays, are you sure you won’t take a couple of these cute little cakes?”

  Gary patted his stomach. “Got to watch the carbs.” Frowning he added, “How do you manage to stay so beautifully slim?”

  She wasn’t about to tell him she could barely afford to keep food in her fridge, so instead, she chose to say, “Just a good metabolism, I guess.”

  Ten minutes later, almost giddy with relief, Scarlet headed for her car. The Christmas shopping wasn’t complete, but Scarlet didn’t want to bump into Gary after feigning an urgent visit to her mechanic. Plus, after spending seventy dollars on a high tea, there weren't sufficient funds for more gifts. That expense was not part of the planned budget, but Scarlet was determined not to feel beholden to the man. Granted, their Italian meal had cost a lot more than afternoon tea, but Scarlet hoped this relieved any further obligation.

  Returning home in a perfectly working MINI Cooper, Scarlet and her pig snuggled together on the couch. After nodding off for an hour, Scarlet groggily made her way to the kitchen. Mid preparation of two hot chocolate filled thermoses, a sudden and dramatic realization flowed through her. Only one thermos was needed tonight.

  Determined to keep her spirits up, Scarlet walked into the radio station with a backpack full of necessities. Her staple thermos, leftover goodies from the high tea, a framed photograph of Niles and Tom holding a significantly smaller Prudence, a flashlight, a bar of soap, and a man’s thick gray sock.

  It had been a couple of weeks since she’d packed the flashlight and soap in a sock. They were heavy, and besides, she was under twenty-four-hour surveillance now. But, something, probably just the fact Sylvia was lying on a far-off beach, made Scarlet grab them on her way out the door.

  Forced by the weight of her backpack to take the stairs a little slower, Scarlet considered the words spoken between Gary and his disgruntled lady friend. You just keep talking and never shut up. Scarlet couldn’t seem to shake from her consciousness, the fact she’d very recently heard this same complaint.

  Reaching the sanctity of her studio, Scarlet placed her framed photo just behind the mic and then debated whether to eat something now or pace herself to keep the comfort food coming.

  Nervous and jittery, she almost fell off the high stool when her cell phone rang.

  “How’s my favorite girl?” came Niles’ soothing inquiry.

  Bemused by the feeling of tears stinging her eyes, Scarlet took a breath. “She’s just fine. How are my favorite boys?”

  “We’ve got you on speaker,” Niles and Tom returned in chorus.

  Tom, who sounded as if he were munching on something, began, “Scarlet, you’ve never seen so much snow. And cold, I don’t know why anyone ever leaves the house.”

  Laughing, Niles added, “Boston is so beautiful, though, Scar. We’re bringing you next time.”

  Maddeningly, Scarlet’s tears reappeared. “I’d love that. How’s Uncle Victor doing?”

  Still chewing, Tom replied, “He’s got years to him yet; we were duped, the guy’s healthier than me.”

  “That may be a slight exaggeration,” Niles interrupted, “but he is a hoot, that old man can entertain a room like nobody’s business.”

  Scarlet reached for a little princess cake. “I’m glad you two are having fun.”

  Tom’s tone became serious. “We hate being so far away from you with, with … well, we just miss you, Scarlet.”

  Determined not to let the tears win, Scarlet voiced, “I miss you too, but I’m fine. I even went on a date this afternoon.”

  “With James?” Tom enquired.

  “No. With Gary. You remember we met for a meal in Italian town.”

  Sounding as if he’d just moved closer to the phone, Niles said, “Of course, we remember. He was a little too keen, though, wasn’t he? Asking you to go away with him scuba diving or something.”

  Hoping the following statement was true, Scarlet said, “I think my rather hurried departure today may have curbed his enthusiasm.”

  “Oh, do tell,” Tom said with mischief in his voice.

  Taking a minute to remember the correct sequence of events, Scarlet began,

  “He called really early this morning …”

  “Scar, are you okay?” Niles asked when Scarlet’s voice faded off into the abyss.

  Heart racing and beads of sweat forming on her top lip, Scarlet replied, “I never gave Gary my phone number. That’s the good thing about a dating site. You just communicate through it, so it’s easier if things don’t work out.”

  In a soft voice, Tom volunteered, “Maybe you did, but forgot you did.”

  Shaking her head slowly and thinking hard, Scarlet said, “The first time was a voice mail, and I didn’t even think about it because I had a ton around the same time. I remember giving my number to James at your house. I was so distracted by the news of Max; I’d have probably handed him my house keys if he’d asked.”

  Laughing, be it a little nervously, Niles said, “Tell us about the date.”

  “His voicemail said how much he’d enjoyed our first date and would love another. I left him a message on the site saying I’d like another date too. Then when he called again, this morning, we agreed to meet in Union Square to do some shopping.”

  A pause followed and Scarlet could only imagine the looks Niles and Tom were exchanging.

  Forcing enthusiasm, Niles said, “That all sounds just fine. What went wrong?”

  “I decided, and I know you two were thinking it, Christmas shopping is a little too personal for a second date. So, I got to the square early, took in some of the sights, and then went to buy Mom an eyeshadow pallet in Macy’s.”

  Receiving neither denial nor confirmation of the too personal for a second date theory, Scarlet continued, “As I’m walking to the Bobbi Brown counter, my attention is caught by a woman’s raised voice at the adjoining desk. With her, I mean clearly with her, is Gary.”

  Tom, a slightly higher pitch to his voice than normal, said, “Standing there, bold as brass with another woman? I cannot even believe this.”

  “Okay, let’s think about this for a moment,” Niles interjected. “Isn’t there a very good chance it was his mother or sister. The pair of them could have been shopping for another family member.”

  Relieved to be sharing her muddled thoughts with such close friends, Scarlet contributed,

  “I would have presumed exactly that, except on the phone this morning, he told me he was estranged from all his family.”

  Sounding as if he’d just said no thank you to someone offering him a drink, Niles went on, “Family is a vague term though Scar. Does it include every aunt and cousin and niece?”

  Feeling her body relax somewhat, Scarlet responded, “Okay, this is why the two of you really can’t ever leave town. I need your sound judgment. I’m sure you’re right. I bet it was some highly-strung cousin.”

  Barely hidden excitement in his voice, Tom enquired, �
��So what happened after that?”

  “We met at the agreed time and then went to the Rotunda and had a high tea.”

  “Oh my gosh, that place is fabulous,” Tom enthused.

  Smiling, Scarlet said, “I agree, and I’m taking the two of you there as a late Christmas treat when you get back.”

  Finishing the conversation with talk of how much fun the three of them would have there, Scarlet hung up feeling relaxed enough to start her show.

  With no time for sports research, she adjusted her mic and pressed the button to hear her first caller.

  “Hi, this is Barry,” the now familiar voice began. “Do you remember the great advice I gave your listeners last time I called?”

  Wincing, and wishing she could somehow reign him in, Scarlet said, “I’m not sure I agree it was great advice, Barry. Wasn’t it something about tricking women into thinking you have a lot of money?”

  Equipped with a slight slur - it was the season – Barry replied, “Tricking is a harsh word, I call it leveling the playing field.”

  Ignoring Scarlet’s protests, Barry went on, “Listen up guys … If getting laid is on your Christmas wish list, just call me Santa.”

  Seeing there were no other callers on hold, Scarlet decided to just sit back. Why fight it? Truth be told, he probably amused a significant percentage of her audience.

  Sounding as if he’d just taken a large swig of something, Barry elaborated, “ATM receipts. If you have a decent amount of cash sitting in your bank, I don’t care if it’s all spoken for with damn bills, get some money out of your ATM and hold onto that receipt. Then, when you’re at the bar, and you see a hot chick, write your phone number on the back of that receipt. Sure as Kaepernick can run, she’ll call you.”

  In a very slow voice, as if he were talking to people as drunk as himself, he concluded, “She’ll turn the paper over and see your bank balance. It don’t matter if the money’s already gone. She thinks you’ve got some serious cash and she’ll be hot to trot.”