Wrong Way Renee

by Wynter Daniels

  “Mama usually has us all over for dinner, but maybe after that. For dessert or something?”

  “Okay. Here we are. That's Wyatt's house.” He tipped his chin toward one of the homes as he drove past in search of a parking spot. As they strode toward his friend’s house, he didn’t say much. A Black Eyed Peas song blared as they entered. A tall gangly man with curly blonde hair greeted them.

  “Hey, come on in. Who's this?” The man looked Renee over.

  “This is Renee. Renee, meet Wyatt,” he shouted over the music.

  She offered her hand, but he grabbed her and gave her a bear hug instead, knocking her off balance. She leaned all her weight into him and they stumbled back together.

  “Friendly, too.” Wyatt laughed as he regained his footing. “Drink?”

  “I'll have a beer, whatever's handy.” Joe took her hand as they headed into the living room which was filled to capacity with mostly big, burly men and a few women.

  “White wine,” she said.

  “Coming up. Make yourselves at home.” Wyatt disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he emerged with their drinks. “Have you met Naomi yet, Joe?”

  “Not yet. I was beginning to doubt her existence.”

  “She's around here somewhere. I swear. I’ll be right back” He melted into the crowd.

  When the doorbell rang a minute later, a short, buxom brunette, whom Renee surmised was Naomi, Wyatt's girlfriend, ran past them to get it. “The newlyweds are here, Wyatt.”

  Most of the guests crowded near the door. Renee looked at Joe who shrugged, then followed the rest of the party to the foyer.

  Wyatt pushed his way through the crowd. A Hispanic couple stood in the doorway. “Hey, buddy, congratulations. Introduce us to your new wife.” He draped his arm around Naomi’s shoulder.

  “Thank you, thank you. Guys, this is Eva. Eva, these are the guys. She doesn't speak much English.” The man stepped further into the foyer to shake hands with most of the men. When he got to Joe, he clapped him on the back. “How you been, Joe?”

  “Great. I didn't even know you were engaged. Congratulations. This is Renee, my…my girlfriend.” He tucked her under his arm and she breathed in his scent and his comfort.

  The man took her right hand in both of his and shook it. “Pablo Colon. Pleasure.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  Several of the men ushered Pablo into the living room where he disappeared in the midst of the throng. Joe and Renee stayed in the foyer.

  “Pablo is a firefighter. He works at the same station as Wyatt,” Joe explained. “We used to play on a softball team together a few years back.”

  She scratched her head, trying to recall something that hid just out of reach.

  Wyatt approached them with Naomi on his arm. “Joe, Renee, this is Naomi. I can't believe you've never met her, Joe. We've been together…I don't know, six months, maybe longer. Feels like forever.”

  Naomi playfully slapped his arm. “It was a year last week. He knows that. We celebrated it.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. A year.” He winked at her.

  Renee could tell they had a good time together.

  “What do you do, Renee?” Wyatt sat on the couch, pulling his girlfriend onto his lap.

  “I'm a manicurist. I own a salon on Elm Street.”

  “Really? Which one?” Naomi asked.

  “Hair Affair.”

  “You're kidding. My mom gets her hair done there. Fran Goldstein. Do you know her?”

  She chuckled. “I've known her for years. My partner, Becky does her hair. In fact, your mom and Becky's mom are good friends. Myra Weiss is her name.”

  “I've heard her talk about Myra. What a small world, huh?”

  The two women found a corner spot to talk. By the end of the evening, she felt like Wyatt and Naomi were old friends of hers.

  “Did you have a good time?” Joe glanced over at her as he drove her home.

  She laid her hand on his thigh and felt the sinewy muscle under his jeans. “I did. Your friends are nice. I really like them. Naomi said she's going to come by the salon for a manicure next week.”

  “You even managed to network. You really know how to work a crowd.”

  She’d been a little nervous about the party, not knowing anyone who would be there besides Joe. But his presence had set her at ease. When they pulled into her complex, she unhooked her seatbelt, slid across the seat and leaned her head on his shoulder. She hated that she couldn’t make love with him. But she had to make a decision between the men because she couldn’t resist him much longer.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I'm great. I really like being with you.”

  “I like being with you, too. Mind if I come up?”

  “That'd be nice.” She couldn’t bear to part with him yet. They entered the dark apartment hand in hand.

  “Don't turn on the lights yet.” His voice was a seductive whisper that sluiced over her like whipped cream. He slid his hands around her waist. She automatically sucked in her gut.

  “What did you do that for?” he asked.

  “Do what?”

  “You're holding in your stomach.”

  “Oh, that. I don't want you to feel my fat belly.”

  He dropped his arms to his side then turned on a light. “Let's get one thing straight right here and now. I like you, for you. I don't want you to feel like you have to change anything for me. I want you exactly the way you are. You're beautiful. And I can’t wait to see more of your gorgeous body.”

  She got choked up with emotion. “Really?”

  “Really.” He kissed her forehead, then her lips.

  The back of her eyes burned but she’d look like a total dork if she shed any tears. She wanted him, craved him, but it wasn’t time. “I'm really tired. Can we call it a night?”

  “Okay. It's a night. Just kidding. I can take a hint. Good night.” He crushed her body against his, kissing her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth.

  She broke the kiss, afraid she might not be able to stop if they continued. “Night.”

  “I said I can take a hint, didn't I?” He stepped back and gave her a heated stare then he headed down the stairs.

  As she watched him, her whole body tingling with an unquenched need. He's the one, her heart said. He's the real thing. She had to end things with Cleave.

  * * * * *

  Toy waved as Renee headed over to a booth by the window at the Grey Wolf Café the next morning. Sitting on the table was a red gift bag stuffed with green tissue paper.

  “Merry Christmas.” Renee hugged her friend then handed her a small gold wrapped box. “You first.”

  “If you insist.” Toy tore open the paper and pulled out a velvet box with pair of gold earrings, each with a tiny gold flamingo hanging from the post. “You remembered. I love them. Thank you.” Toy had been collecting flamingos since her family had moved to Florida twenty years earlier. She took the hoops out of her ears, replacing them with her new flamingo earrings. “Now open yours. And be careful, it's fragile.”

  Renee reached into the bag and pulled out a flat, heavy object wrapped in tissue paper. She carefully laid it on the table and peeled away layer after layer of paper, then bubble wrap until she revealed a mirrored plaque that said, “Renee's Station.” Hands, feet and little bottles of nail polish were painted around the edges. “Oh, Toy, it's perfect. I love it.”

  “I had it made for you. I thought you'd like it.”

  After they ordered Caesar salads, Toy steepled her fingers on the table. “Now, tell me what's going on in your life? Are you still seeing both guys?”

  Thoughts of her dilemma darkened her mood. “Yes. But let me get this out of the way first. In case you should happen to run into my mother, please tell her that you've been lonely and depressed over your divorce.”

  “Seriously? I've moved on from there months ago.”

  “I know, but I used you as an excuse to leave a party Fri
day night. Please do this for me. Chances are you won't see her, but just in case.”

  “Yeah, sure. So why did you have to leave the party anyway?”

  “Where do I begin? My dad's office holiday party happened to be the same night as Joe's best friend's Christmas party. I agreed to go with Joe and then Cleave called to ask me to be his date for the firm's party.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Aha. I see your dilemma.”

  “Knowing my folks would be there and all, I showed up for an hour and a half. Plus, I wanted to be Cleave's date. He's leaving for Atlanta tomorrow so he gave me my gift.” She held up her wrist.

  “Very nice. A golf cart?”

  “Long story. So I had to race home and change clothes for Joe's friend's party. Joe accused me of being ashamed of him because I didn't want anyone I knew to see me in his police car. “

  “You? You're not like that.”

  “I didn't think I was. But I realized I am to some extent. I'm too snobby to let my folks meet him.”

  “But you have other reasons. Namely, Cleave.”

  “I think it's more than that, though. I'm not so sure I'd be in any hurry for my mother and Char to meet Joe, even if there were no one else in the picture. I’ve never dated a white guy. I still don't know what to do. I love being with Joe. He turns me on and he makes me laugh. But Cleave's so sweet. He treats me like a princess. You should see his house. Oh my God. He lives in Woodland Heights.”

  Toy nodded. “I used to date a guy who lived there and he was freaking loaded.”

  “It's nice. He wants to move things along fast, though. My family would be ecstatic if that relationship continued and say, we got married or something.”

  “I've been in a similar position. Before I married James, I was dating that doctor. Remember?”

  “That was like a million men ago. You had to choose between a doctor and an accountant. But they both had money, right?”

  “Right. But you know what helped me decide between them?”

  “What?” She leaned toward her friend, hoping for some elusive wisdom.

  “The doctor had an ex-wife and a child. That was the deciding factor for me.”

  Renee sat back in her seat, wondering if Toy could relate to her current situation. “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

  “For me it would be easy.”

  “You’d pick Cleave, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yeah. He’d win hands down. You know how high maintenance I am. A cop's salary would never work for me.”

  “You earn good money.”

  “But for how long? When you model, you have to start early and end early. No one wants a wrinkled forty-year-old woman in their ads. I have to marry someone who can keep me in the style I'm accustomed to for the long haul. I'm hoping my next trip to the altar will be my last.”

  Their food arrived and they ate in silence for a couple minutes.

  Renee tried unsuccessfully to spear a crouton, instead crushing it into crumbs. “So, what's going on with you? Are you single again?”

  “Actually, I met a really nice guy on my last job. He's in publishing.” She took a tiny bite of her salad.

  “Really? What was the job?”

  She laid down her fork. “I'm ashamed to say.”

  “Toy, are you doing nude stuff or something?”

  “Oh, please. You know I hate my body. Do you think I'd ever do that? They want these little Twinkies who are barely eighteen for that work. I posed as the teacher for some textbook photos. There, I've said it out loud.”

  “Why is that something to be ashamed of?”

  “Because I was a schoolteacher, not a young, sexy, vampy woman, like I used to be.” She slumped in her seat and pushed a piece of lettuce around the bowl with her fork.

  “God, you make it sound like that's the only type of job you'll get from now on.”

  “You don't know this business. I'm almost over the hill. My search for a husband has taken on a whole new urgency.”

  She knew her friend was probably right. “What was all the buzz a few years ago that the media was making a generation of girls who were obsessed with their bodies and their youth? I thought we were going to see older models and ones with a little meat on their frame. What happened to that?”

  “I think they were trying to be responsive to the public outcry. But it was only lip service. Just smoke and mirrors.”

  “So, tell me about your publisher man.”

  A smile found its way to Toy's face. “His name is Wesley and he's a few years older than us.”

  She knew her friend well enough to suspect that meant ancient. “How old is that?”

  She pursed her lips. “He's about fifty-five.”

  “Fifty-five? Are you attracted to him or are you just looking for another occasion for your friends to drop a bunch of money on a wedding?”

  Toy stuck out her tongue.

  “Sorry. But I thought you were going for love from now on.”

  “Who ever said love and money are mutually exclusive?”

  “You know what I mean. Is this guy attractive? Or is he just wealthy.” She scooped up the last bite of her salad and eyed Toy’s.

  “He's very attractive. He has dark hair and eyes and he's educated—and very nice. He's got a yacht.”

  “Wow. I wish you luck, girlfriend.” Unfortunately, she left just as confused about her dilemma as when she’d arrived. As soon as the holidays were behind her she’d make her choice. Then she’d bow out of one of her relationships. She had to.

  * * * * *

  Christmas Eve day everyone and their mother needed her hair and or nails done. Pam came next for Renee to fix a broken nail mid-morning.

  “What do you have going on for Christmas?” Renee asked her.

  “Going to my folks' place. You?” She yawned as her gaze roamed the salon.

  “Same. Have you seen Pablo recently?”

  Pam's face fell. “Not for a week or so. I've left two messages on his cell phone but he hasn't called me back.”

  “What's his last name?”

  “Why?”

  “No reason, I met a fireman named Pablo this weekend.” She patted acrylic into place on Pam's thumb.

  “Colon. What was the last name of the Pablo you met?”

  She held back a gasp. “I-I don't remember. But I don't think that was it.” How could she tell her that the love of her life had married someone else? Even though it was for the best since Pablo was obviously an asshole, Renee ached for the inevitable pain the situation would cause her client.

  As Pam was leaving, Joe came into the salon. He stood at the desk in uniform looking around for her. She swelled with pride at how handsome he was. To show him she wasn’t ashamed of him, she walked over and planted a big kiss on his lips.

  His face reddened as he glanced around the shop. “Hey, I'm in uniform.”

  “I can see that. To what do I owe this pleasure?” She wiped her lipstick off his upper lip.

  He shrugged. “I was in the area so I thought I'd stop by to see where you work. Plus, I could really use a haircut. I also wanted to see if you'd be dropping by my dad's this evening. Rather, I was hoping.”

  All eyes in the shop were on them, but she didn't care. Luckily, everyone had a client they were working on so no one said anything to embarrass her.

  Antoine walked his client to the door and gave her a kiss before she left. He looked Joe over and raised his hands in mock surrender. “I give up, officer. Please frisk me. I might be packing heat.”

  “Ignore him,” Renee told Joe. “Antoine, this is Joe.”

  Antoine held out his hand, palm down. “Pleasure to meet you, Joe. I've heard a lot about you, honey.”

  Joe shook his hand. “Yeah, same here.”

  “He needs a haircut. Do you have time?” Renee asked him.

  Joe silently pleaded with her not to make him go with Antoine.

  “Today is your lucky day, handsome. Come on back.” Antoine looped his arm through Jo
e's and led him to his station. Joe glanced back at her, silently begging for rescue.

  “It'll be fun,” she whispered, following him.

  As Antoine trimmed Joe's hair, Renee discussed the evening's plans with him. “Dinner at my folks' is at seven. I should be able to sneak out by nine. Is that too late?”

  “No, not at all. Do you want me to pick you up at their house?”

  “No, no,” she said a little too quickly. “Just give me your dad’s address. I'll meet you there as soon as I can get away. I don't want you to have to leave your family's celebration.”

  “Okay. This place is really nice, Renee.”

  Becky walked by and stopped when she saw Joe. She waved into the mirror at him. “Nice to see you again. Merry Christmas. Renee, can I speak to you when you have a minute?”

  “I have a minute now.” She followed her to the kitchen. “What's up?”

  “I need your opinion on something. Something personal.” She sat on a stool and kept her voice not more than a whisper.

  “What is it?”

  “I can't talk about it here. Do you think maybe you can come by my house tomorrow evening?”

  “Sure. Is everything okay?” She searched Becky's face, hoping for a clue to set her mind at ease.

  “Don't worry or anything. I need a sounding board. You're my best friend. You know me better than anyone. Six or seven okay?”

  “Fine. I'll call before I come.”

  “Thanks.” Becky's smile didn't find its way to her eyes.

  Renee saw only worry there. The muscles in her shoulders tightened. She returned to Antoine's station to find Joe looking better than ever after Antoine worked his magic. After a scorching kiss next to his patrol car, she headed back inside and did three more services before calling it a day. For a change, she was the last one out.

  After shutting down the computer, she sat at Becky's station, twirling in the chair. It wasn't like Becky to be so secretive. Could she be sick? Maybe she wanted to sell the shop or move away. A million scenarios played out in her mind, all of them bad.

  Chapter Eight

  “Aunt Renee, Aunt Renee, merry Christmas. Santa's coming tonight.”