Everything but the Girl

by Saxon Bennett

  “I didn’t know you wanted your own shop,” Joy said. How had they missed having this conversation? She thought she knew everything about Angela. Did she know her friend like she thought she did?

  “Before you get all weird, this has been a pipe dream of mine. Something I never imagined I’d be able to pull off. I’m sick of renting a booth and having to work in that rundown building because Mel won’t put any money into it.”

  Angela was right. The place got more and more run down with each passing year. It didn’t bode well for new clients. The place was hanging on because of the elderly clientele. And they would eventually be exhausted. Angela was obviously looking toward a shinier future because of Carol.

  “That was nice of her,” Joy said.

  “You mean she’s not the ice queen you thought she was?” Angela said.

  “Or the serial killer you thought she was,” Joy retorted. They laughed their way right into breakfast.

  ***

  Joy felt better after eating. She ran by Carol’s boutique on the pretext of seeing how she was feeling. Joy wasn’t certain she needed a reason to stop by, but her excuse gave her one. It was a sleek place, glass shelves, chrome racks with clothes hanging elegantly, waiting for rich women to come and blow a wad of cash. The floor was wood and the light pleasantly ambient, as if to make anyone look good. Joy had always wondered about the awful light in dressing rooms. Who wanted to body shame while attempting to purchase clothing, Joy had always wondered?

  Carol looked delighted to see her. “Welcome to my humble shop,” she said. She smiled as if this was her happy place, but it was a smile meant to fool her customers.

  “Come sit, if you have time,” Carol said, indicating the chairs set out tastefully to allow for the shopping companion to wait for the woman to exit the dressing room either in ecstasy or in the agony of defeat. Clothes were the joy and bane of a woman’s life in a world that judged them for their wardrobe, hair, body, and make-up. Then it occurred to Joy, that the business next to the boutique was vacant and for rent. Clothes, hair, perfect combo. Carol could help Angela and Angela could help Carol.

  “I don’t have a showing until one. I just wanted to see how you were feeling. I’m still a bit rough,” Joy said.

  “Should’ve had my hangover special,” Carol said.

  “I couldn’t get past the green.”

  Carol laughed. “It is a bit daunting. But to answer your question I feel fine. I’m embarrassed about last night. I’m not usually like that.”

  “I am,” Joy said. “I’m teasing.”

  “So, you’re not the partier that you appear,” Carol said.

  “Do I look like I can manage it? I’m past that. I had a younger girlfriend and ten years makes a difference. She wore me out.”

  “You and Angela amaze me. You’ve been through so many relationships and here you are standing strong, supporting me because I lost one girlfriend.”

  “You make us sound like Don Juanitas when we are really just unlucky in love,” Joy said.

  “As am I.”

  “How are you doing with that?” Joy asked as she studied the racks of clothes. Carol had her fall collection up for the season.

  “I think it might be a good thing. Once you know your ex-girlfriend has another girlfriend, it’s painful but it’s also a relief. You lose hope. I needed to lose hope. The paint credit card thing pretty much sealed it. There will be no changing of her mind and no me letting her come back,” Carol said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I couldn’t take it. Knowing she’s sleeping with another woman is difficult enough. How could I take her back? I’d always fear that she’d do it again and I couldn’t go through this again. Besides, Debra is not that kind of woman. Once she makes her mind up, she doesn’t go back. She’s always chasing that elusive future where life is what she wants not what it is. This mural won’t be enough despite all its acclaim. She’ll keep pushing without basking in her achievement now. She chased me once then grew bored. ...Am I boring?” Carol asked, biting her lip.

  “No, but you are heartbroken.”

  “Not anymore. It’s my turn to chase the future. And this one will get brighter. I feel a sense of relief knowing that it’s really over. Does that make sense?” Carol said.

  “I think it’s called healing,” Joy said.

  “I want to thank you for being instrumental in helping me get there.”

  “It takes time,” Joy said, thinking this new Carol glowed. Last night must’ve been cathartic for her. Fifteen years was a long time to be together and then in a flash it was all gone. No wonder Carol was a mess.

  Joy checked her watch. “I better go.”

  “Thank you for coming by,” Carol said. She got up and showed Carol to the door past some gorgeous blue, hunter green, and ochre cashmere sweaters.

  “These are beautiful,” Joy said, knowing they were way out of her budget.

  “I just got them in. I love the colors, perfect for fall. I really need a change of season. Summer reminds me too much of love,” Carol said.

  “I thought spring was for lovers,” Joy said.

  “Debra and I fell in love in the summer. Hopefully by next August, in my shiny new life, I won’t hate summer.”

  “It’ll always hurt but the heart’s scars heal, and we begin anew. Perhaps you’ll find someone new by next summer.”

  “Maybe I will,” Carol said, looking at Joy a little too long.

  ***

  “I need to take another Polaroid and I need you to take a picture of my butt, so I’ll know if these jeans are my best ever.”

  Joy was showing April Sanders yet another house. This was a split-level with a daylight basement and a large deck and a nice yard. Why April wanted such a large house for herself, Joy couldn’t figure. It had four bedrooms, a massive great room, and a completely remodeled kitchen that could easily host a large family, with a dining room.

  “Do you have a lot of family?” she asked, dodging the butt photo request. Didn’t April have a best friend to do the honors?

  “No, my mother is still alive, but we spend more time being estranged than we do speaking to one another,” April said blithely. “Now, let’s get that butt shot before I start shooting photos of the house.” April took extensive Polaroid pictures of the entire house she might potentially purchase. She told Joy she needed a visual of each house and for some reason unbeknownst to Joy she used a Polaroid instead of a digital camera. Joy didn’t want to get into it.

  Joy wasn’t certain taking butt pictures fell under the real estate rules. Was there an ethical question regarding taking photos of a client’s butt? How far was she willing to go to sell a house? She was a goner as soon as April thrust the camera at her.

  “Can’t you look in the mirror?” Joy asked.

  “It doesn’t represent a clear picture of your butt because when you turn the shape of your gluteus maximus shifts. That’s why I need a photo.”

  Joy wanted to ask her what she did with all these Polaroids. Were they pinned up on every surface in her apartment? Joy wasn’t completely certain that April ever intended to buy a house; perhaps she was lonely or had a dream of owning one of these high-end houses. She did have money. She was a trust fund baby who’d gained access to it upon her father’s death. According to April, she was a Daddy’s girl and he wanted to make sure she was well taken care of. Joy wondered if April had ever had a job.

  April and her desire for a butt shot popped the balloon of Joy’s ruminations. “I’m ready,” she said, turning her back to Joy. “Please take two. I wanted to send one to my girlfriend.”

  Girlfriend? That boded well. Lesbians were notorious nesters. Maybe not a four-bedroom house, but a two-bedroom with a built-in office seemed more appropriate. “Have you given any thought to that nice bungalow I showed you last month?” Joy asked.

  “I need a lot of space and light. My girlfriend is a muralist, really, but needs a space to make large sketches and paintings
in preparation of her work. She’s really coming into her own. Can I see the pictures yet?” April said, indicating the Polaroids.

  “Muralist?”

  “Sure, it’s her thing. I’m not much of a judge but she’s hot, I’ll learn.”

  Joy studied April. The woman they had seen kissing Debra had been wearing a beret and a silk scarf. This woman was also blond, but she wasn’t the same woman at the mural opening. Did Debra already have another girlfriend?

  “Do you know Debra Lennon?”

  “Yes! She’s my girlfriend. We haven’t been together long but we’re soul mates. She had a quick rebound date after getting away from that bitch of a wife of hers, but Claire, that’s the rebound, went bye-bye,” April said brightly.

  Sure, you’re soul mates. Is that what she tells you, as you foot the bills for her artistic endeavors? Joy thought. Debra had found herself a sugar mama with a large trust fund. It was perfect. It was the universe messing with people’s hearts.

  Joy decided to test her theory. “I was at her opening.”

  “You should’ve come over. I would’ve introduced you,” April said brightly.

  Fortunately, that hadn’t happened, Joy thought.

  “Oh, my gosh, it looks so good,” April said.

  “The house?” Joy said.

  “No, silly, my butt.”

  “Yes, it is very nice.”

  “You really think so?” April said excitedly.

  “I do. What do you think about the house?” Joy said, trying to steer the conversation away from butts and back to houses. This was the fifteenth property Joy had shown her and it was growing tiresome especially with all the pictures of April’s buttocks in her latest pair of pants. Joy imagined the houses pinned up on the wall around her apartment like she was creating a jigsaw puzzle of real estate properties and Joy was forever adding to the puzzle. It had to stop somewhere. Didn’t it?

  “Speaking of houses, I knew the day I found the perfect pair of jeans would be the day I decided on a house. I’ve been studying my Polaroid pictures and I think I’ve got it.”

  If taking butt pictures sold a house, Joy was all for it. She hesitated asking for fear she’d jinx April’s decision. “Which one?” she asked.

  “The very first one you showed me. The bungalow with two bedrooms and bath and a half. I think it’s the perfect size for me and mine.”

  Joy refrained from screaming. Why are we standing in a four-bedroom house with three bathrooms, a deck, and a stunning view of the bay? If the law didn’t frown on it and Joy didn’t want to lose the sale, she would throttle April.

  At least April was an optimist and planned on capturing Debra’s mercurial heart. Joy couldn’t even get that far. She figured she was doing okay with a roommate. At least she wasn’t alone. She had a best friend. That was doing all right. Her life wasn’t a complete failure in matters of the heart. She had good friends, a mother who loved her and a good career. She needed the woman of her dreams. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so.

  “Can we go look at it again? Photographs don’t do it justice,” April said, indicating the bungalow.

  Joy plastered a smile on her face. “We sure can. But I thought your girlfriend needs light and space.”

  “She paints outside, or she will now,” April said.

  Okay, it wasn’t a match made in heaven. Trust fund baby was bossy. Joy wondered how this relationship would play out.

  April looked around the airy, light room and appeared to be thinking. Joy had found this a difficult subject because April thinking usually meant she changed her mind.

  “Do you think I could build a studio in the backyard? That would make up for not having a room inside. I could do that for Debra,” April said.

  “I’m sure she’d like that,” Joy said, thinking evil thoughts about Debra. She was an opportunist, a philanderer, and a bitch for what she had done to Carol. Had she grown bored with Carol and sought out more exciting patronage as her fame grew? Joy wondered.

  Debra and Carol had lasted fifteen years... how had things gotten broken enough for one to leave? Usually there were clues, arguments, lack of sex, and constant bickering. Carol appeared to have been broadsided by the whole thing. She had no idea what she’d done wrong and that made it hurt worse. How would she ever be able to trust love again?

  Joy didn’t think she could. Joy’s break ups were more apparent; none of this waking up one day to discover your lover found another and planned on having a life without you. It was horrendous. It was the left behind part that must hurt the most. Joy felt more than pity for Carol. She felt anger smoldering in her belly. Carol had been wronged and this woman Joy was about to sell a house to the woman who had helped betray Carol.

  “I’ve been thinking that you should take a look at a few more houses before you make a decision. I’m going to get a realtor that covers a different area. She could give you a whole different perspective and maybe you should bring Debra along so she could see her painting space.” All of this tumbled off her tongue in a rush. She didn’t want to broker anymore discussion. “I’ll give her call now. Her name is Cindy Donaldson. She is absolutely marvelous. You’ll love her,” Joy said.

  “What about you? You worked so hard to help me find a house,” April said.

  “But I’ve shown you what I have available and we haven’t found the perfect fit. I can’t in good conscience sell you a house that isn’t perfect for you. You really do need a house with a lot of light for Debra’s studio. The bungalow doesn’t have that kind of light,” Joy said.

  “Okay,” April said, seeming uncertain on what she should do. “I feel like I should give you something for all your help.”

  “How about a Starbuck’s card?” Joy said flippantly.

  “Perfect! I can do that. You like coffee,” April said, “Right?”

  Was it possible that one person could be so dizzy? Of course she drank coffee, although they did have other drinks. Ugh, dealing with April was lowering Joy’s I.Q. “I love it,” Joy responded. “Let me call Cindy.”

  “Sure, I’ll go take some more pictures, just in case.”

  “You do that,” Joy said. She was going to have to beg Cindy to take April as a client. What were friends for?

  Joy stepped outside on the deck and closed the sliding glass door. Cindy picked up on the first ring as realtors are wont to do. Never miss a call. Everyone was a potential buyer. “How would you like to have a new client who might be on the verge of buying,” Joy said. Her conscience got the better of her. “Or not.”

  “Not the great undecided one,” Cindy said.

  “Yeah, that one. But she might be ready. I just can’t sell to her.”

  “What do you mean? You can sell to anyone. Even the Lamberts. You’re famous for pulling that one off,” Cindy said.

  “It’s a conflict of interest issue.”

  “How so?” Cindy asked.

  Joy didn’t like sharing Carol’s private life, but she needed Cindy to take on April as one of her clients. She took a breath and exhaled it.

  “It can’t be that bad,” Cindy said.

  “It can and it is. April is buying a house for her new girlfriend, Debra, who happens to be my roommate’s ex-wife of fifteen years. It’s messy and I don’t want anything to do with it.”

  “I can’t fathom how, in a city of this size, we all seem to be part of one big clan that dates each other. Sometimes it seems downright creepy. Did I tell you about the one night I was at a party and a bunch of us were sitting around a table, drinking of course, and one of the women had slept with everyone at the table.”

  “I’d say she was a busy girl,” Joy said.

  Cindy laughed. “I can see where your situation is sticky. I’ll take her. Never know... I might become famous for selling to the great undecided.”

  This time Joy chuckled.

  ***

  “You didn’t have to do that for me,” Carol said. They were sitting in the living room drinking tea and talking. They’d ta
ken to doing this after work. At least after Joy’s day ended. Some days she showed houses in the early evening, but she preferred not to, especially now that she had a reason to go home—to watch over Carol. She took the news about April, the new girlfriend, and Debra stoically. Joy could tell it hurt her.

  “She’s got herself a lover and a patron, one with lots of cash. We were always running tight moneywise. Debra worked mostly for free. The shop pays out fairly well, but there wasn’t a lot left over for two people, one of whom needed a lot of paint which is expensive.”

  It hadn’t occurred to Joy how much paint a giant mural required. No wonder Debra was upset when her funds were cut off. But what was she thinking—that Carol would keep paying because she was a patron of the arts and not a broken-hearted woman dying inside because you left her behind? What kind of egotist thought that?

  “I wouldn’t have held it against you. Business is business,” Carol said.

  “You mean to tell me if Trust Fund April walked into your shop, you’d sell her clothes... or better yet brought in Debra with her for a whole new wardrobe? Would you still sell it to them?”

  Carol was quiet. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d kick them out of my shop.”

  “Good. Anger is the next step. It helps you get over the heartbreak.”

  “And you would know because?” Carol said.

  “I know, believe me, I know.”

  “Then teach me,” Carol said.

  “I can try. Falling in love usually cures it,” Joy said.

  “And who would I fall in love with? Who could I trust? I am messed up about this.”

  “I would be, too. You didn’t get a head’s up and that’s hard, much harder to get over. I only had one of those. I came home one day, and she was packing, telling me why we shouldn’t be together. I thought that was pretty harsh. It didn’t take me long to realize we were wrong for each other,” Joy said.

  “At least you didn’t waste fifteen years of your life with the wrong person.”