“Me too. Unfortunately, I still have to see my former husband occasionally since we have a daughter together. That was the only nice thing he ever gave me—his sperm. My mom just walked in for a free manicure and gossip session.” Chantelle stood, threw away the wad of paper she'd been holding and headed toward her station.
Renee went to the desk to check her schedule. Her two o'clock appointment was ten minutes late—never a good sign with a new client, so she used the time to pay some of the shop's bills. The checking account was dangerously low by time she'd finished. She'd have to speak to Becky about that. Rather than sit there and do nothing, she took advantage of the unexpected free time to get a head start on her Christmas shopping.
She drove to the linens super store near her apartment complex, looking for some sheets Becky had said she liked. As a regular at the store, all the saleswomen knew her by name. She found the sheets, plus a framed print that would look great in Toy's bedroom and a huge, fluffy bath sheet for herself.
When her turn at the register came, she was thrilled to learn the sheets were forty percent off. The sales clerk swiped her card then scowled as she stared at the computer screen. “Hmm. Problem, Miss Wright.”
“Problem? What's wrong?”
“I'm sure it's only a computer glitch, but this says you're at your limit on your Linens World credit account. I'm supposed to keep the card when this message comes up.” The girl stashed the card in the cash drawer. “Here's the number to customer service. Like I said, I'm sure it's their mistake. Would you like to put it on another account?” The girl handed her a slip of paper on which she'd written a phone number.
Avoiding the woman's eyes, Renee rubbed her suddenly aching temple and searched in her purse for another card. “Here's my Visa. Put it on that.” Hands shaking, she threw it across the counter. It slid over the other side and landed on the floor.
“Miss Wright, I'm sorry. It's not my fault, you know.” The girl bent to pick it up, then quickly swiped it and handed it back.
“That was an accident. I'm sorry.” She slipped the card into her purse with a sweaty hand and. “I know it's not your fault. It's just annoying.”
“Uh oh. It won't take this one either. Do you have another?”
Heat crawled up her neck and face. “You know what? I didn't want those anyway.” Head high, she marched out of the store.
Driving into Magnolia Palms a few minutes later, she noticed the bare crepe myrtle trees dotting the landscape. They looked like witches' brooms sticking grotesquely out of the ground. In fact, everything looked dull, gray and sad. She dragged up the stairs to her apartment then crumpled onto the couch with her purse in hand. Something had to give.
Pulling all the credit cards from her wallet, she sorted through them as Apple rubbed against her arms. “Okay, kitty, some must go, some can stay.” She counted out seven plastic vices. Mastercard got to live. The Visa was condemned to the shredder, along with three department store cards. American Express and her gas card were issued a reprieve. She had to start somewhere. Continuing down the heavy debt freeway could only lead to a head on collision with her future.
* * * * *
Renee parked her Jeep in the driveway of Becky's little pink and blue house Sunday morning. A vast array of decorative flowerpots dotted the brick walkway, their lush, colorful contents reaching out to welcome visitors. Window boxes spilling over with orange marigolds hung below the windows on either side of the front door. Each time she came here she marveled at her friend's talent for making things grow. Looking at the exterior of the charming cottage, with a freestanding wooden swing on the front lawn and a mailbox, which was a perfect replica of the house, she always expected the cuteness to extend to the inside. But she was forever disappointed. Becky's talent for decorating the outside did not translate to the inside.
Becky opened the door immediately after Renee rang the bell. “I'm almost ready.” Her friend stepped aside to let her enter. She fastened her earring as she left the room.
Her mutt came scampering in to greet Renee. “Hi, Bo. Don't jump on me, doggie.” But it was too late. He landed his big paws on her white shirt, smudging it with dirt.
“Becky! Call him off.”
“Here boy. Come here, Bo,” Becky shouted from the back of the house. The dog happily scuttled off.
Renee brushed the dirt off her top as best she could then sat on the worn beige futon couch, pushing a stack of mail aside. An old steamer trunk that served as a coffee table was littered with papers, magazines and two dirty coffee mugs. A tan director's chair and a red butterfly chair made up the rest of Becky's living room ensemble. It reminded Renee of her college dorm furniture. Not only did Becky need a makeover, but her house needed one as well. Maybe she'd submit Becky's name to one of those house makeover shows on the Home and Garden TV network.
Becky entered the room followed by Bo. “Ready. You driving?”
“Sure. I'll drive, let's go. I've been looking forward to this all week.”
Becky picked up her keys as they headed out the door. “Give Mommy kisses, Bo.” The dog complied, slobbering on his mistress's face.
“Ick. Do you know what dogs lick? He's probably just eaten cat shit in your yard.”
“Not my baby.”
Looking forward to the excursion, Renee drove as fast as she dared. When they got to the mall, Toy was waiting at the entrance to Macy's, as they'd planned.
“Hey, ladies.” She looked stunning in a white Peter Pan collared blouse with a flowered skirt.
Renee hugged her. “I am so ready for this. Can you believe how warm it is out? Hard to believe it's November.”
Becky pointed to a huge wreath hanging above the entrance. “Look, they've got Christmas decorations up already.” An instrumental version of Let It Snow played in the store.
“They're getting us in the shopping mood,” Toy said when they went inside. “Why don't we start with Clinique?”
The threesome attacked the cosmetics counter. An attractive Asian woman in a white lab coat cheerfully tried foundation, powder and blush on each of the women. They went from counter to counter, testing, experimenting and buying.
After the splurge, they headed to a café a few blocks from the mall for lunch. The hostess seated them in a corner where they had a view of the entire place. “Jessie will be your server today,” the woman told them as she handed them each a menu.
A tall, handsome black man appeared from behind her and smiled at the women. “Lucky me. I have a table of beautiful ladies. Are we ready to order, or do we need a minute?”
Becky pulled her glasses from her purse to read the fine print on the menu. “I think I'll have the clam chowder with a slice of quiche and a Coke.”
“I'm starting a diet Monday, so I'm going to have the Reuben with well done fries.” Renee shut her menu and stacked it on top of Becky's.
“I'm not very hungry,” Toy said. “I'd like the side salad with fat free vinaigrette and water with lemon.”
Becky and Renee exchanged glances, rolled their eyes. Renee watched Jessie walk away and marveled at his cute buns.
“So, how's it going with Charles, Becky,” Toy asked.
“Great, so far. He likes my dog and he likes my parents, what could be bad? We've had four dates and would you believe he hasn't tried to get me into bed yet? But he did kiss me on the first date.” She spread her napkin over her lap. “He sells advertising for a radio station so he always has tickets to concerts and events. It's great. He's not great looking, but he's kind of cute. Are you seeing anyone?”
“Yeah, but he's not terribly exciting. I think I might dump him soon.” Toy rested her chin on her hand and looked up at the ceiling. “He's nice and all, but there's no spark, you know?”
“Maybe the spark takes a little more time,” Renee offered.
Jessie arrived with their drinks, smiling at her. “I brought you water. Did you want anything else to drink?”
“Water's fine. Thank you.” She winked at hi
m as she twirled a curl. When he was out of earshot, she said, “He's fine, don't you think?” She waited for her friends' assessment.
In unison, they answered. “He's gay.”
“Damn. My gay-dar must be broken again. Remember when I lusted after Ruben Perez right after we opened the shop? I told Mama I was gonna marry that man. She swears to this day that was what started her irritable bowel syndrome. And he turns out to be gay.”
“What does Elizabeth have against Hispanic men?” Toy asked.
“Nothing, as long as one of her daughters isn't dating one.”
“My mom's the same way,” Becky said. “Why do you think she fixes me up with so many Jewish guys? Cause she doesn't want me marrying anything but.”
“My mom could care less.” Toy leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. “Now that she's divorced herself, she knows what a jungle the dating world is. She told me at her age, she's lucky to get a guy who breathes on his own and doesn't have a colostomy bag.”
“Thank the Lord we're not there yet, girls.” Renee took a sip of her water.
“I wish I could really fall in love,” Toy said as the waiter arrived with their food. “I've never experienced that.” She cut her lettuce into minuscule pieces.
Renee took a bite of her Reuben, contemplating Toy's words. She put her sandwich back on her plate, and stared at Toy. “Wait a second. Haven't you been in love with either of your ex-husbands?”
“No, not really.”
“You mean I've spent over a thousand dollars on two bridesmaid dresses, gifts, two showers plus all that other shit for you to marry men you didn't even love?” Renee glared at her friend.
“I thought I loved them when I married them. But I realized later that I just wanted to be married.” She impaled a tomato wedge with her fork. “I like being married.”
“Then why do you keep getting divorced?” Becky asked, her mouth full of quiche.
“Because, if you're not really in love, after a couple months all the gross things a man does really start bugging you.”
“Like?” Renee dipped a French fry in a pool of Thousand Island dressing that had escaped her sandwich.
“Like how he prances around naked, shaking his thing at you yelling 'woo, woo,' like that'll turn you on. And like the way he drops his clothes wherever he takes them off, then leaves them there until they become a science experiment with a new form of mold growing on them. Like how he smudges peanut butter fingerprints on the cabinet doors. Like how he expects you to kiss him after he's eaten something with onions or garlic. Like how he stops doing all the romantic stuff he did when you were dating like covering the bed in rose petals or buying you expensive gifts. And worst of all, sometimes he looks at other women as he’s holding your hand.”
“I hate to tell you this sweetheart, but you're describing most straight men in this world.” Becky stirred her soup. A curl of steam floated up from the bowl. “The thing is, if you're in love with him, you overlook it. If you're not, you can't. I never had any man cover a bed in rose petals. I did date a gardener who dropped grass clippings on the floor when he took his clothes off.”
Renee picked up a particularly long fry and held it in front of her face. “So, if we can't find a man we're truly, madly in love with, maybe we should marry a gay man and buy a vibrator.”
They all chuckled. When Jessie came over to ask if they needed anything else, they all burst out laughing again. He took the cue to leave them alone. After he'd cleared away their plates, he returned with a dessert tray loaded full of sinful-looking sweets. “Can I tempt you all with one of our scrumptious desserts? It's our specialty.”
Renee pointed to a chocolate colored slice of pie. “What's that one?”
“Chocolate mint cheesecake pie. I've had all the calories removed for you.” He winked, but she now attributed his flirtation as sucking up for a tip.
“No matter. I start my diet Monday. I'll take it. Anyone want to split it with me?” She hoped no one would, but she had to offer, or feel like a pig.
“I will.” Becky licked her lips.
Toy waved his offer away. “Nothing for me. I've got a runway show tomorrow.”
After they finished with dessert, the women paid their bill, then piled into the Jeep. As Renee started it up, she turned to her friends. “Hey, can I talk you guys into stopping at Jordan's? They're having a big sale.”
“Not me. Thanks.” Toy buckled her seatbelt. “I promised my mom I'd go by to help get her Christmas stuff out of the attic.”
“Already?” Becky said. “It's not even Thanksgiving yet.”
“She likes to have it all up for Thanksgiving. Do you guys have any holiday plans?”
“I plan to sit home sticking pins into my Dan Voodoo doll so he'll break a leg or an arm skiing in Aspen. I'm considering making one of Bunny or Bonnie, or whatever her name is. I'm going to try to get her weave caught in the chair lift while she's getting off.” Renee glanced in the rear view mirror at Toy. “Do you think a Voodoo doll can do all that?”
“You're sick.” Becky chuckled. “Aren't you going to your mother's?”
“Yes, but after that, I'm doing my Voodoo. Will you come with me to Jordan's sale, Becky?”
“Sure.”
Renee dropped Toy at her car, then headed around the other side of the mall to Jordan's. A huge red bow hung over the glass doors, giving her that warm and fuzzy feeling. They entered through the men's department, which smelled of leather, cologne and all things male. The walls were decorated with large wreaths and lighted garlands hung from the ceiling.
“What are your plans for Thanksgiving,” Renee asked as they looked at the purses on a sale table.
“I'm not sure yet. My folks want me to go there, of course, but there are always like fifty people there. They invite half the temple along with my brother, sister and their families.” Her eyes widened as she checked a price tag. She dropped the offending item as if it were on fire. “Charles invited me to his family shindig, but we haven't been dating long enough to merit that. My ex-husband called Monday to tell me his dad passed away last month. He asked if I'd join him and his mom, but that sounds way too depressing. On the other hand, if I don't go, it'll just be the two of them and I'll feel guilty. Of course, Mom will be mad if I don't join our family. I'm thirty-six years old, you'd think I'd have all this guilt stuff worked out by now.”
“I don't think I'll have it worked out 'til I'm eighty.” She picked up a hot pink backpack style purse and held it out in front of her. “This is cute. It looks like Zoey. Let's get it for her for Christmas.”
Becky pulled the price tag toward her face, then examined the item. “Sure, that'll work. You know, we need at least one more hairdresser at the shop. If we could get two, we'd really be in good shape.” She pulled her wallet from her purse to hand Renee a twenty.
Renee stepped to the register to charge the purse, pushing Becky's twenty into her wallet. “Yeah, that'd be great. Then maybe I could pay down my credit cards. You know that gym I joined last year? They're offering me another year for half price. Want to come with me?” A saleswoman handed her a Jordan’s bag which she gave to Becky. The women walked through purses to the Misses department.
“I'll never go. I'd like to think I would, but I know I wouldn't. I thought you hardly ever went,” Becky said.
Another failure. When she'd joined, she vowed to work out at least twice a week. But she never made it past the first month. “This year I'll do better. My diet will be way easier if I work out.”
“That's true.” Becky picked up a green vest.
“Girl, that's like butt ugly.”
She quickly returned it to the rack as if it were coated with poison. They continued strolling until they got to the costume jewelry area.
“I haven't even started my Hanukkah or Christmas shopping,” Becky said. “That purse we got for Zoey is my first purchase. Plus, Hanukkah is really early this year. It starts a week after Thanksgiving, so I'd better get with it.”<
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“Look at this bracelet, isn't that gorgeous. I got this new outfit that would look great with it.” Renee slid the bracelet over her wrist. Next to the rack of bracelets was one full of earrings. “Ah, they have the matching earrings. I wonder if those are too heavy, though.” She pulled off the rubber earring backs, slipping on the dangling gold earrings. There was no mirror where she was, so she went to the next counter to find one. She admired herself in the oval mirror atop the counter. She smiled, checking her teeth for stray food particles, but thankfully found none.
“I’ve got to get these, Becky. Becky?” She looked left and right, but no Becky. Men and women rushed past. “Becky…where are you?” She spotted brown curls on the other side of one of the jewelry counters, so she made her way over. When she got there, the ringlets had eluded her. There they were, just outside the store in the mall.
“Becky, where are you going? Becky?” But the curly head didn't respond. Renee broke into a trot, making it right past the benches near the store entrance in the mall when she heard a loud siren blaring behind her. “Where the hell are you?”
A hand grasped her arm. She turned to see where Becky had been, but it wasn't her. It was a large Hispanic woman holding a Jordan's bag.
“Jordan's Security,” the woman said in a deep commanding voice, as she held up a plastic identification card. “Come with me please, miss,”
Renee's jaw dropped. “What did I do?”
“Come with me, please, miss,” she said again. “Let's not make a fuss out here. We can discuss this in the security office.”
“But I was looking for my friend. She was right behind me. Then she was gone. I saw her hair, so I ran after it.” Her heart raced and her mouth was suddenly dry.
“Ma'am, please come with me back in the store. We can discuss it in the security office.”
“But what did I do?” Her heart hammered against her chest.
“You've taken merchandise you didn't pay for from the store.” She pointed to Renee's ear.
She touched her earlobe and looked down at her wrist.
Wrong Way Renee Page 4
