Angry Annie

by Dawn L. Chiletz

  I follow her line of vision and stop breathing when I see Rhode walking behind her. He says something in response to her and smiles. She walks over to him and places her hand on his arm. He wraps his hand over hers. It’s intimate and alarming all at once.

  The way he’s looking at her makes my heart sink. He pulls her into a hug. I know how those feel. I turn away from the window and lean my back against the brick wall. I can’t bear to watch them kiss. Forcing back the tears that threaten my eyes, I try to understand why he’s here and what he’s doing with her.

  Of course! It’s Jorgie. That’s why he pulled away! He’s seeing my sister. It all makes sense.

  I saw their connection when they first met. Jorgie is sweet and kind. Rhode is shy and hot. The hot guy always gets the good girl. But the things he said to me? Did I misunderstand everything? Was it about gardening the whole time?

  I squeeze my eyes closed tightly and take a deep breath. Why I’m reacting this way? I guess sometimes you don’t realize how much you want a person until they’re no longer a possibility. By the way my chest aches, I can tell I must have really wanted him. More than I’ve wanted someone in a long time. I thought maybe there were sparks between us, but I thought wrong. He’s with my sister. I’d never ever stand in the way of Jorgie’s happiness. If she wants him then she gets him. End of story. I hurry to my car and pull away before anyone can see me. The last thing I want is to look like I was watching them.

  After I drop off my paperwork, I grab a big bag of McDonald’s breakfast foods. I’m going to eat until my pants burst. Good thing I wore yoga pants today. At the rate I’m going, this article is going to turn me into a whale. I vow to go for a run tonight. I need to sweat out all of my feelings. Plus, when you’re sweating, no one can see when you’re really crying. I barely knew him. It’s no big deal. Right?

  I knock on Annie’s door and no surprise, she doesn’t answer. I try the door and it’s open. “Annie? I’m coming in, don’t shoot me!”

  When I drop the bag in front of her at the kitchen table she gazes up at me as if I did something wrong.

  “What are you doing here? I told you to get out and I meant it.”

  “But, I thought after last night—”

  “Last night? Whatchoo talkin’ ’bout?”

  I slide into the seat at her table and open the bag. “You don’t remember?”

  “Did we have a date? ’Cause I remember having a date with my man Scotch, but not you.”

  “Oh, you and Scotch had a party last night for sure!” I laugh as I remove a sandwich from the bag.

  She stares me down, making my smile slowly slide away. My mouth falls open when she says nothing.

  “How about this?” I ask, singing “Who Let the Dogs Out” to see if it jogs her memory.

  She cringes. “What’s the matter with you? You crazy? You hit your head this morning? Comin’ in here and singing some dumbass song actin’ like we’re friends. Bringin’ me hash browns like it’s a peace offering and I’m a NATO officer,” she mumbles under her breath.

  “I came over last night and apologized. You were drunk. We bonded.”

  “I don’t get drunk and the only thing I bond with is my dentures.”

  This day hasn’t gone the way I planned. “I’m so confused,” I say, placing my hands on the table.

  “You forgot dumb. You dumb too.”

  Her comment is the straw that broke the camel’s back. I slump down into my chair and place my head in my hands. The damn breaks and I start to cry. “I’m so tired and sad and tired and so, so sad.”

  “What the biscuit mix?” she says as I sob.

  She grabs the stack of napkins and tosses them at me. “You gonna make your hussy makeup run. Stop it!”

  “I can’t stop. This whole day—the whole week . . . Actually, it’s my life in general. I don’t want to be a fact-checker anymore. I want to be more than that, you know?” My tears flow down my cheeks.

  Annie’s brows furrow as I continue to spill my thoughts along with my tears.

  “I practically threw myself at him, and he likes my sister. Of course he does. Everyone loves Jorgie. She’s smart and kind and beautiful and good. She’s a good person and he’s a good person. I’m not . . . good.” My eyes dart to Annie’s face and it’s sullen.

  “I shouldn’t have snooped through your things. I’m so sorry, but you said you’d tell me about your reviews and I cleaned my car and you were sleeping and I was bored. And I suck. I’ve eaten ice cream, and chips, and now McDonald’s.”

  I take a big bite of my McGriddle sandwich and talk with food in my mouth. “And you know what? I don’t even care. What’s the point of being skinny if the guy you like likes someone else? Huh? What’s the point?”

  I stuff another bite into my already full mouth and sob as I chew. Annie stares at me and crosses her arms.

  “You need a therapist, child. You got something wrong with you up here,” she says, pointing to her head.

  I cry harder.

  “Oh, for the sake of Peter, Paul, and Mary. You need to stop your whining. You want something, you gotta make it happen. You want a man, go get him. Don’t let some other woman steal what’s yours.”

  “But it’s Jorgie. I love her.”

  “But you want his tickler. I assume we’re talkin’ about lawnmower boy next door.”

  “No!” I sniffle nervously. Shit. She’s going to say something. “It’s not him. It’s someone else.”

  She stands and walks to the sink. “You’re the worst liar I ever seen.”

  “What’s a tickler?”

  “A dick.”

  “Is everything about sex with you?”

  “When you get to be my age there are some things you remember more fondly than others. I know the look on your face. It screams ‘Cut my grass!’”

  “Forget I said anything. It’s not him, okay? Just drop it.”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “Annie, please!” I say, hurrying to face her.

  She rolls her eyes. “Understand this . . . I don’t care who you’re crying over or why you’re sad. All I’m saying is stop.”

  “Fine. I’m done. No more tears.” I wipe my cheeks with my hands and scrub my nose. Standing next to her, I notice she’s placed her cup of coffee in the sink. There’s another one on the table. I glance between them. “Did you pour me coffee?” I ask, rubbing my nose once more.

  “Nope.”

  “Then why are there two cups?”

  “I’m havin’ another.”

  “Why would you use another mug?”

  “’Cause I felt bad that one hadn’t been used in a while.”

  Picking up the cup, I notice it has cream and smells like vanilla. I stare at the cup until it hits me. She acted like I was coming to protect herself, but she was waiting for me. Prickly Annie strikes again. I smile brightly and sniff away my tears.

  “Nu-uh . . . Don’t you go thinking I poured that for you.” She takes the cup from my hands and walks toward the sink.

  “Wait! Can I have it? Please?”

  She sighs. “It’s probably cold now. I don’t want it anymore. No sense wasting it.” She places it in front of me and I take a sip. It is cold, but I drink it anyway. I’d never complain about her being nice. Assuming she knows how. Maybe I’m growing on her.

  “You do remember my being here last night, don’t you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you remember telling me about Bobby and your greeting cards?” I ask.

  “Who’s Bobby?”

  “Oh, come on, Annie. It’s the most you’ve told me since I met you. I wish you’d drink all the time. Is that why you were so angry with me yesterday? Was it just a bad day?”

  “You were goin’ through my things! Would you like that?”

  “No,” I say, lowering my head.

  “And then I knew you saw the flower bill.”

  I shrug.

  “That was none of your business,” she says angrily.

&nbs
p; “You’re absolutely right.”

  There’s a moment of silence before she speaks again. “I send flowers to Bobby’s grave once a year.”

  I nod and I can tell she’s getting upset. I decide to change the subject.

  “Hey, do you want to see my car now?”

  “Why would I want to see that hunk of junk?”

  “You told me yesterday that if I cleaned it, you’d give me a review. I’m still waiting.”

  “Speaking of which.” She holds out her hand and I know what she wants.

  I pull the money out of my purse and place it in her palm. I watch her count it and hold the bills up to the light again. It seems to be her thing.

  “How many reviews do you need to be outta my hair?” She does that clicking thing with her teeth again as she stares at me.

  I lick my lips. “Three? Four tops. And I need to know why you write them. Honestly . . . why do you write what you do?”

  The theme song for “Cops” sounds on my phone. I glance down at it, reject the call, and push it away from me.

  “You wanted or something’?”

  “Just by one cop in particular.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Not what you think. I promised him a date if he helped me with a lead. He calls every day. Anyway, as I was saying, how do you decide what you’re going to review and where to post it?”

  “And?” she questions, crossing her arms.

  “And what?”

  “Are you going to go out with him?”

  “No, I’m not. He’s nice enough, but there will never be anything between us. He’s not my type.”

  “Does he know that?”

  I wrinkle my nose.

  “You gotta tell him you got heat in your pants for lawnmower boy.”

  “Heat in my pants? There’s zero heat here.” I make an X over me with my hands. “I told you, Rhode isn’t the guy I was talking about.”

  “Uh-huh. ’Cause you got so many options and they just chasin’ you around town.”

  A breeze flows through my hair and I remember Annie’s kitchen windows are open. Worry tugs at my mind. I stand and nonchalantly glance out the back window. The last thing I want is Rhode to be outside and have heard any of this conversation. Not seeing anyone, I quickly turn to face her, speaking more quietly than before, just in case. “How would you know what my options are? There are plenty of men I can date.”

  “Name one. The Po-Po doesn’t count.”

  I struggle to think of a single person because they don’t exist. I blurt out random males I know. “There’s Steve from accounting, George who works at a restaurant, and Tom who I met at a bar.” There’s no reason to tell her Steve is my grandfather’s age, George is my regular pizza delivery guy, and Tom is my sister’s ex, who I did actually happen to meet at a bar.

  “Call one of them. Ask them out.”

  “I don’t want to. I don’t have time for relationships. How did we end up talking about me? Let’s get back to reviews.”

  “We can’t talk about reviews because you’re pining to have your garden seeded.”

  “Where do you come up with this shit?” I ask her. “I don’t need my garden raked, seeded, or picked. My garden is just fine. If I wanted to, I could go out with anyone.”

  “Prove it. For all I know, this cop is calling ’cause you’re wanted for stealing people’s mail.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “I told you, he wants a date.”

  “Sure he does. He wants a date with a judge because you stole shit.”

  “Dammit, Annie. I swear he wants to go out with me. Now drop it.”

  She shrugs and takes a hash brown from the bag. Sitting at the table, she starts to eat it, shaking her head and tsking me.

  “What? What now?” I ask, irritated.

  “I feels sorry for you. It must hurt that you can’t get a date. I know when I was your age I was busy all the time. I guess no one wants to hang out with your sorry little ass.”

  “For fuck’s sake! You want proof? Fine! Listen to this.”

  I dial Adam’s number on speakerphone and he picks up almost immediately. “Hey, Adam, it’s Joss. Did you call?”

  “Hey there, beautiful!”

  I stick my tongue out at Annie and she huffs.

  Adam continues, “I called you because I was wondering if you’re ready for that date you promised me?”

  “The date you wanted? With me?” I point to the phone smugly. “Sure. How about tonight?”

  “That would be fantastic. I’ll pick you up at seven. We can try that new Italian place on 42nd Street. I think it’s called Zoro’s.”

  “You know what? I’m going to be working late, so I’ll just meet you there.”

  “Joss, I want a full service date, remember? That was the deal. That means I get to pick you up and drop you off.”

  Ugh. I hate this whole thing. “Fine, but when you say full service that means a car ride and dinner. Nothing more.”

  “I know that!” He laughs. “No need to worry. You’re safe with me, sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Wait! Do you need to know where I live?”

  “Nope, I have it covered.”

  I was right. He did check up on me. Yuck.

  “Hey, how did that address I gave you check out?” he asks.

  “Okay, gotta go. See you tonight. Bye.” I end the call quickly before he has the chance to mention Annie. That’s the last thing I need right now. “Happy?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.

  “A big person can admit when they’re wrong.” She shoves the last of her hash brown in her mouth and chews.

  “Yes, they can.” I stare at her while she finishes, waiting for an apology.

  “What? You got a chewing fetish?”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “For what?”

  “For you to admit that you were wrong.”

  “Why would I do that? I’m not wrong.”

  Leaning forward on the table, I grab a hold of my roots with my hands. This woman is so frustrating. I take a deep breath. “Can we get back to how you review now? I’ve been here for three days and I still know nothing.”

  “You’re right. You don’t know anything.”

  I know she wants to upset me, but I’m not going to let her change the subject again. “What about this?” I ask, lifting the bag of McDonald’s. “Would this be something you’d review after eating it?”

  “No.”

  “How about the Scotch from last night?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?” I question.

  “Because I got nothin’ to say about it.”

  “What makes you want to write a review then?”

  She wipes her fingers on a napkin, stands, and walks into the living room, turning on the TV.

  Hoping she’s going to show me something, I follow her.

  She’s flipping channels. She skips over the shows and stops when a commercial comes on. “Like this,” she says, motioning to the TV with the remote in her hand. “This commercial plays fifty times a day, over and over and over again.”

  I listen intently to the ad.

  “Do you hear that dumbass music?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Now why do they have to play it every single time the show goes to commercial? I’ve seen it so many times it makes me mad. If I had wanted a sweeper boot and ordered it for some reason, I would’ve changed my mind by now and cancelled my order.”

  “Did you write a review for the product?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Are you going to?” I can’t help but feel excited.

  “I don’t know.”

  “But that’s how you decide what to write about? Annoying commercials?”

  “Not always.” She suddenly jerks her wrist. “Ooh, I got to go! I’m late.”

  “Go where?”

  “It’s Wednesday.”

  I’m not sure why she thinks I know what that means. “Annie, please. We were f
inally getting somewhere. Can you give me one review today? Just one? Please?”

  “I’ll give you one. But first we go do my errands.” She turns off the TV and points to a bag by the front door. “You get the bag, I’ll get the car.”

  “You’re driving? No, no way!”

  “Shut your mouth. You’ve been whining all day.”

  “You drive like a crazy woman.”

  “If a woman is crazy it’s because some man made her that way.”

  I teeter my head back and forth because that’s probably accurate. I lift the bag of what seems to be clothes and follow her out the back door. “Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

  “You’ll see when we get there.”

  I immediately buckle my seat belt and brace myself for impact. Annie slowly backs out of the driveway and carefully places the gear in drive. My head flips to regard her.

  “It was a good show, huh?” she asks.

  “You’re not really an awful driver?” I question.

  “I ever tell you my daddy was a stunt man?”

  This woman . . . she’s full of surprises. Hopefully she’s also full of reviews.

  SLIDING MY FINGER ALONG the dew of my glass, I can’t help but smile. I finally have a review. After a trip to the grocery store and another visit to Thea’s house, Annie delivered as promised. My article has a starting point. Annie’s mind is twisted, and it’s a review, but I really need to get more dirt on her if this article is going to blow Darla’s mind the way I want it to. It can’t all be about TV commercials. My sister isn’t advertised on TV. How did Jorgie’s bakery upset her enough to warrant a review?

  I decide to leave that worry for tomorrow. Tonight, I’m celebrating my small accomplishment. At least I’m making progress. I have two more days to get all the dirt and then I can be on my way.

  “I hope I put that smile on your face,” Adam asks, as he returns to his seat after a quick bathroom trip.

  “In a roundabout way, you sort of did.” Taking a large gulp of wine, I empty my glass. Liquor is all that’s keeping me sane right now on this ridiculous date. Why did I let Annie talk me into this?

  “Whoa! Either you’re really thirsty or you’re trying to get drunk.”

  I smile awkwardly and lie through my teeth. “It’s good wine.”