Angry and hurt, Em went back to the living room and tried to call all of the phone numbers again, but with the exact same result.
“Ugh!” Frustrated, she went to her room and slammed the door. Throwing herself on their bed, Em quickly found herself sobbing uncontrollably. She missed Prairie, but she felt so detached from her, it was almost as if they had never been together. As if it was all just a dream. Except it wasn’t. Em had the physical scars to prove the accident, the myriad surgeries and the rehabilitation happened. And, she had the emotional scars of being the unchosen—again. She was left on her own in a house filled with nothing but memories of Prairie in every square inch of the house. Em had known for a while it was probably over. Prairie, as it was becoming clearer by the day, had moved on. She had a new lover—her career. And Em had a new roommate—an elusive stranger.
~/~/~/~/~
Fiona entered the dark house stealthily. It was later than she planned, just past ten in the evening, but she had gotten lost after taking herself out to dinner. Somehow, she ended up in a place called Altadena, and spent what seemed like forever driving around in the dark, confusing, hilly neighborhood, in circles, with no one to ask for directions. Eventually, she ended up in Pasadena, a place she’d actually heard of, and from there she was able to find her way back to Prairie’s. Once inside the house, there was no way to tell if Em had returned or not. The house, as far as Fiona could tell, was exactly as she had left it.
Prairie told her Em didn’t have a car, so Fiona couldn’t use a car parked in front of the house as an indicator of whether Em was home or not. Though, if she did have a car it could be in the garage, Fiona speculated—but in the end, it was a moot point because Prairie said Em didn’t have a car. Stumped and frustrated, Fiona decided to go to the guest room and go to bed. Hopefully, Em was already sleeping and they’d meet in the morning.
Once in bed, Fiona passed out. The entire day she’d been suffering from unspeakable jet lag, but had no way to indulge it. The moment her head hit the pillow, Fiona was gone, deep in sleep from which she didn’t wake until the next morning—well after ten.
24.4—Drama
At six twenty-five, Em woke up before the alarm which was set to go off in five minutes. For a blissful moment, it was the same as any other day, until she remembered, the same as every day, Prairie was gone. The difference was, today a stranger was living in her house. Em slowly pushed herself up off the bed into a sitting position. She hated mornings when her leg was stiff and practically frozen, not to mention the accompanying pain. Barely past twenty-three years old, in the mornings, Em often felt as if she were in her nineties. Still, she was grateful—it could have been worse.
After significant effort and an accompanying grimace, Em managed to stand up. Using her cane, she shuffled herself to the door and out into the living room and headed to the bathroom. At the bathroom door, Em stood and looked down the hallway and glared. The door to the guest room was still shut. She huffed. She had half a mind to burst into the room and demand to know who the intruder was and what was going on. The urge lasted but a moment. Em was far too polite for such drastic behavior. She simply went about about her morning ritual, but out of ingrained courtesy, was more quiet than usual.
By the time Barbie arrived at the curb, there was still no sign of life from the guest room. Em had gone and quietly stood outside the guest room door, put her ear against the door and listened for a full minute. Nothing. Frustrated, Em went to the phone in the living room and tried to call Prairie at home and then at work with no success. Em was beside herself, ready to lose it when Barbie tapped lightly on the Chevy horn. She gathered her things and left the house more in the dark than she was yesterday when the mystery guest first moved in.
~/~/~/~/~
“So you have no idea who’s living in the house with you?” Barbie asked incredulously. She stopped at the red light and looked at Em in the passenger seat.
“Well, I know it’s a woman who wears the same perfume Prairie does,” Em answered, her stomach in knots.
Barbie did her best not to look alarmed. Then she cast a furtive glance at Em, suggesting that women’s perfume wasn’t necessarily proof that it was a woman.
“Oh… there’s no way it’s a man, Barbie. They were definitely women’s clothes on the bed,” Em insisted.
“I don’t know, Em. Our community, if you want to call it that, has some interesting travelers. Hmmm…?” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel waiting for the light to turn. “You can never be sure anymore.”
“It’s not a man,” Em said with certainty. “It’s a woman. I feel it in my bones.”
“Okay, let’s say you’re right. Prairie hasn’t given you a clue about what’s going on?” Barbie was confused by the whole thing, but worried nonetheless.
“No! And I thought she would have at least told you guys. Lovey didn’t say anything?” Em inquired, frustrated.
The signal light turned green, prompting Barbie to drive.
“Not a word.”
“Hmph.”
“I’ll give Prairie a call when we get to the office. There’s got to be a simple explanation for everything. Right?”
Em didn’t answer.
“Em…” Barbie urged, “don’t go getting upset about it until there’s really something to be upset about, okay? We’ll sort the whole thing out. You’ll see.” Barbie’s mind was in hyperdrive, trying to figure out what was happening. The perfume thing was the key. She remembered Prairie started wearing Opium when it first hit the market, and it became her signature scent. Prairie also mentioned sending a bottle to Fiona in England for her birthday a year or two earlier. Barbie took a deep breath. This could get ugly, she thought. She really needed to get ahold of Prairie right away before this all got away from her. Em did not need a heaping dose of old-fashioned dyke drama, which was possibly what was coming next.
“You want to stop for a donut?” Barbie asked as she came upon a Winchell’s Donut Shop. “I could get a box for the rest of the office…”
“Sure,” Em answered, somewhat dejected.
Barbie clicked the turn signal on, its loud, rhythmic, indicator permeating the truck cab, and slowed down, preparing to turn into the donut shop parking lot. “Hey,” she said to Em as she kept her eyes on the rearview mirror, “Don’t worry, okay? We’ll get this whole thing sorted out in no time. We’ve got this, kiddo. It’s probably nothing, okay?”
“Okay, Barbie.” Em sighed, wanting to believe Barbie. If only she could talk to Prairie…
~/~/~/~/~
As soon as she and Em arrived at the office, Barbie was given three messages to call Prairie right away, but with no details. She tried Prairie’s office number, leaving messages with unnamed assistants, and her home phone several times, but got no answer. Em was clearly not happy with the situation, and who could blame her? Barbie wondered.
“If I were Em, I’d be going ape-shit right about now,” Barbie quipped to Gwen in a low voice. She kept her eyes on the office door in case Em should come back from the restroom sooner than expected.
~/~/~/~/~
“Honey, I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Gwen said, clearly confused by the brewing drama. “I got several messages from Prairie as well, but I’ve been in and out of meetings for the past few days.” Gwen also returned the calls, but no one answered. “There’s someone living with Em, but she doesn’t know who it is, hasn’t seen her or him, and no one’s been able to get ahold of Prairie to see what gives? That’s just weird. How did they get in there? And why hasn’t Em seen her… or him? What the hell?”
“I know, I know, babe. It is weird. It seems as if we’re all playing an elaborate game of phone tag. But what I’m worried about is… the perfume,” she said ominously, her eyes on the door. Barbie just knew the perfume was the key to everything.
“Perfume? What perfume? Now what are you talking about?” Gwen was getting seriously confused. Her secretary tapped on the door frame and mouthed, “The meetin
g’s starting.” Gwen shook her head affirmatively, held up her index finger to indicate she’d be there in a minute.
“Em told me she thought Prairie had come home because she could smell her perfume in the house,” Barbie said.
“So? Opium’s a popular perfume. Barbie, honey, I’ve got to go—the meeting’s…”
“So Prairie sent a bottle to Fiona in England,” Barbie interrupted. “Remember?”
Gwen gasped. She suddenly understood why Barbie was so concerned. “No… no way that’s Fiona at the house. No, no, no…”
“What if it is?”
Gwen slumped. “Shit, that’s what.”
“Exactly.”
~/~/~/~/~
Prairie hung up the pay phone, frustrated. Stuck at the hospital waiting for one of the team’s player’s X-ray results after an injury on the field, she’d only had limited opportunities to call Em. Prior to the player’s injury, each time she tried her house, then the Hill Top house, Gwen at work or Barbie at work, there was no answer. Except, that is, when Fiona answered the house phone twice. Now Fiona was upset with her for still not having told Em that she had an unannounced houseguest for goodness knows how long.
“Dammit,” Prairie swore under her breath. If she didn’t get to Em soon, all hell was going to break loose, and that’s the last thing she wanted to happen between them.
She could feel Em slipping away from her a little each day, which she found extremely disturbing. Even though her initial intention was to call it a day with Em when she left for the baseball job, as soon as she left, Prairie knew she didn’t want to lose Em. She really thought they could make it work, but it wasn’t working—not at all. And then out of the blue, Fiona called needing a place to stay while she got her newly acquired civilian life sorted out. How could Prairie ever say no to Fiona? She couldn’t, and didn’t.
In hindsight, Prairie admitted to herself she should have at least consulted with Em before saying yes. The way things were going, she might as well get comfortable with the idea of being in the doghouse for a while.
“You’ve got yourself in a pickle now, Prairie Fire,” Prairie said to herself, adding woefully. “Fuck. I’m an idiot.”
24.5—Dam Break
Barbie excused herself from the office as soon as it became clear there was going to be a lovers’ quarrel. She could see Em, with the phone pressed to her ear, quietly stewing. Barbie assumed Prairie was probably doing some fast talking to get herself out of hot water.
Em was miffed and had barely said a word since hello, letting her silence speak for her in response to Prairie’s explanation. After what seemed an eternity from when Prairie told Em that she had invited Fiona to stay at the house for as long as she needed to, and to a certain degree, why, Prairie was the one to finally break the excruciating silence.
“Em… honey… she had nowhere else to go.”
Silence.
“She’s my friend,” Prairie pleaded. “She’s nice. You’ll like her.”
Silence.
“Aren’t you lonely there?”
That was it. Prairie had pushed the envelope a little too far.
“Yes,” Em seethed, clutching the phone receiver so tightly her knuckles whitened. “I am lonely, because my lover left me all by myself in her house, that I am now to share with a complete stranger, who I’ve barely even heard of—without any input whatsoever!”
“I know, I know, I know… I’m sorry, I know I should have asked you first, I…” Prairie didn’t know what to say. She knew she screwed up and was now desperately trying to make things right. She did not want Em mad at her. Apparently Em wasn’t alone in her ire. Prairie had received phone calls in quick succession from Barbie, Gwen and Fiona, all reaming her a new one for completely and totally mishandling the situation.
“I was wrong, Em. I’m truly sorry, baby. Please. Don’t be mad at me.”
“I am kind of mad, Prairie. I just… you…” Em was more mad about Prairie leaving in the first place than about Fiona the mystery guest. Em didn’t want to continue to flog that dead horse again. Prairie made her decision, Em made the decision not to follow her, and in the end, it was Prairie’s house and she could do what she pleased with it.
But still, Em didn’t know Prairie and Fiona were such good friends, especially since Prairie had barely mentioned her, other than in passing, the entire time she’d known Prairie. What was that about? Em shook her head, frustrated. There just didn’t seem to be any point in arguing.
“Never mind. It’s fine. Just… if you would kindly let me know when you decide to decide things… on your own… in the future. I would very much appreciate it.”
Prairie grimaced. Ouch. Then she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll make it up to you, babe, I promise. And you’ll see, Fiona is really… sweet. I know you two’ll hit it off.”
Don’t count on it, Em thought.
~/~/~/~/~
The entire day Barbie tried to engage Em on the houseguest subject, but Em wasn’t biting. She didn’t want to think about having to share her home with a complete stranger let alone talk about it. She had spent most of the day in her head, trying to sort out feelings, delving into the past, talking herself out of being angry, only to get angry again. Mostly she wondered how she was going to navigate living with a stranger in her own home. Yes, she’d been lonely, but her refuge, the place where it was almost okay, was at home. She envisioned having to live in her room to avoid interaction with Fiona, which was not a scenario that made her happy. She also didn’t want to make Fiona feel bad about something that wasn’t her fault. That just wouldn’t be the polite thing to do.
“I’m going to go get more coffee,” Em said, pushing herself up off the chair. “You want anything, Barbie?”
“None for me. Hey, you better watch out or you’re going to float away,” Barbie warned with a smile. “That or I’m going to have to pull you off the ceiling from all the caffeine you’ve chugged today.”
“Funny,” Em said as she snatched her cane off the back of the chair and headed out the door of Barbie’s office. “I’ll be right back.” Instinctively Em knew she was going to pay for drinking so much coffee—she’d probably be awake all night—but for the time being, it gave her something to do. She was having a difficult time focusing on the receipts she’d been filing, and the longer she sat, the more active her mind became.
~/~/~/~/~
Barbie pulled the Chevy up to the curb in front of a late model sedan, not considering for even a moment it might be Fiona’s rental car, and put the truck into neutral. “We’re around all weekend if you want to come over,” Barbie said to Em. “We can barbecue or something. Go to a movie? Maybe?”
Em was wiggling in her seat. “Okay, Barbie. I’ll call you. Gotta go.” Em quickly opened the truck door and slid out of the passenger seat, down to the ground. Barbie leaned over and handed Em her cane. “Thanks, Barbie. ‘Bye.” Em closed the truck door and moved as fast as possible, eyeing the steep steps before her with regret and loathing.
Just as Em began to climb the stairs, Barbie pulled the Chevy away from the curb and smiled to herself as she headed home. “I told you so,” she said out loud, chuckling. She could tell Em had about a gallon of coffee knocking at the door.
“Poor girl. I hope she makes it.” Barbie immediately felt bad about laughing at Em. She knew how hard Em worked at trying to be normal, and how far she’d come. “You’re an ass, Barbie Tilding,” she said to herself, instantly filled with remorse.
~/~/~/~/~
As she pulled herself up the concrete steps using the pipe railing to haul herself up, Em was mentally berating herself for not making a pit stop before leaving with Barbie. It was as if every cup of coffee she had drunk the entire day was now ready to come out—with a vengeance. She pleaded with whoever was in charge to let her make it to the bathroom without a mishap. “Please, please, please…” Em muttered to herself as she gave it her all to climb to the front door as quickly as possible.
/> “Ahhh…” At the front door, Em frantically dug into her pocket for her key. It wasn’t there. “No!” She dug in the other pocket, then the first pocket again. It wasn’t in either of her back pockets. Em was in a full-blown panic as she knew the end was near—it wouldn’t be long before she lost the battle with her near bursting bladder. She stepped off the doormat, awkwardly bent over, holding herself steady with her cane, and pulled back the mat, expecting to find the emergency key. It wasn’t there.
It was Friday, and Barbie had begun the weekend early, which meant it would be another two hours before Em’s neighbors began arriving home from work. Just the fact that it was Friday meant there wasn’t even a guarantee they’d come straight home from work. Em’s eyes darted around the porch and the front of the house. There was no place up on the porch she could relieve herself; and now, having reached the top of the stairs, she’d have to climb down a few to get to the side of the house. It was steep, and under normal circumstances, would be difficult for Em. Having a bladder about to erupt made it all but impossible. Teetering on the edge of hysteria, Em looked out to the street, desperate for a solution. She spotted a car parked on the street. Could it be Fiona’s car?
Hoping against all hope that it was, Em began pounding on the front door. “Open the door! Hello!” she hollered, nearly in tears. “Please!” she cried, frantic that not only was she going to have to meet the elusive Fiona, but that she would meet her after having completely wet herself. Em’s anger and frustration boiled to the surface as she continued to pound on the front door.
Prairie Fire Page 34
