Secret Shopper

by Tanya Taimanglo

  “Bradley, how long are you in town for?”

  “Why?” He tried to sound ignorant. Maybe he was.

  “You know why.” I countered quickly. “I’ve got the divorce papers drawn up. You just have to agree and sign. Irreconcilable differences. It sure beats adultery, right?”

  “Are you doing this because you’re with Thomas?” He asked sadness dripping from his voice.

  “No. I’m doing this because we were never a perfect fit. You cheating,” I brought my voice down, “and this Army reserves thing, that’s irrelevant, really. I’m a different person. You were the catalyst for that and I should actually thank you.”

  Bradley crunched his eyebrows together, confused, I was sure. I wanted him to see the positive of letting me go.

  “Did you tell the news that your name was Phoenix Lizama and not Farmer?” I wasn’t getting through to him. I actually felt sorry for him. He had his pride and that was preventing him from seeing the bigger picture.

  “That wasn’t me. This whole attack has been blown way out of proportion. Slow news day in San Diego, that’s it.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re safe. I’ll be here until after the New Year. Sarge pulled some strings for this emergency and I was able to leave training and complete it the next cycle.”

  “Will you be deployed anytime soon?” I was genuinely concerned. It was a relief to be able to speak with him like an adult. He said that because he needed more training, he wouldn’t be deployable until maybe the end of spring. Bradley actually looked forward to heading to war. I was surprised when he shared that he was thinking of joining the army active duty. I thought, whatever makes you happy, as long as we get the divorce finalized.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t divorce yet since if I die in Iraq or wherever I’m sent, you—still being my wife would get a ton of money.” I couldn’t believe he was joking like that!

  “Bradley, that’s not funny.” Thomas finally drove up and exited his car. I saw Bradley smirk. He thought hybrids were for pussies, his words, not mine. Bradley asked me if it was okay to speak with Thomas. He said this loud enough for Thomas to get wind.

  Thomas looked from me to Bradley and nodded. I guess they had some man things to discuss. Their conversation was briefer than I thought between the man from my past and my friend from the here and now. It ended with Bradley offering his hand to Thomas. They shook firmly, but didn’t smile. The mild standoff was over. The tension in the air dissipated.

  Bradley approached me and Thomas waited by the open passenger door keeping his lovely platinum eyes on me. His face was relaxed, a small smile danced on his mouth. Bradley knelt in front of me and looked me square in the eyes. He had tears in his own eyes and I stopped the compulsion to want to comfort him. That wasn’t my job anymore. To passerbys, it might have looked like Bradley was proposing to me. I finally got him to kneel, but the circumstances were so ass backwards. When I was proposed to, his mother did it. She slid a ring to me, her mother’s ring. It was a simple barbecue dinner. She said, “Here, use this. It’s special and then you don’t have to spend money.” Bradley smiled, mouth full of food, “So, will you?” And that was how we started our journey to be husband and wife. Now, I was about to be released like a wild animal and I couldn’t wait to run.

  “Thomas seems like a good kid. I’m sorry for how things,” a rush of quiet tears streamed down his face. He sucked it up when Sergeant Reynolds’s Hummer rounded the corner, making his presence known with the obscene rumbling. Thomas’s Prius looked like a toy car next to the monstrosity. “I’m sorry for everything I did and whatever I didn’t do. I’m happy for you, really. Shit. I always knew you were hot stuff. At least I can say you were my first wife, right?” I was going to get my wish. He finally agreed to divorce me and I was at a place in my life where I accepted that with both arms, wide open. Thomas turned his head away when he saw me lean over and give my soon-to-be ex-husband his last kiss on the cheek.

  “Thank you, Bradley.” I whispered.

  Bradley rose, “We’ll always have Guam, right?” And then, his face returned to a stone cold soldier.

  He was right. Bradley wheeled me slowly to Thomas. They shook hands again looking almost like friends. Thomas took my hand as I negotiated getting into his car. He closed my door gently, smiling the whole time. We both were. We drove off, leaving Bradley on the curb with my empty wheelchair.

  Chapter 13

  Our Two Dads

  It took a week to feel normal physically, and two weeks more for the divorce papers to be filed and official, helping with my emotional healing as well. In that time, Thomas and I met up without hiding, the friendship clause still intact. As much as I wanted to strip him down in all senses of the phrase, I was too busy doing work from home and healing. I also had to deal with being recognized as the girl from Guam who kicked her assailant’s ass. It was nice, but I never wanted that kind of attention. Mr. Kang even named a special on his menu for me, Phoenix Fried Rice—a kimchee fried rice dish. My mom would have loved that, and Rachel too.

  The last straw in this whirlwind of attention was when I stopped by Bag It and a group of uniformed men recognized me. They bombarded me with questions. I answered each inquiry curtly, but then someone made a vulgar comment about my skills in bed and I froze. A strong fight or flight debate raged in my brain and I suddenly found myself in my car. Enveloped in its safety, I focused on my breathing and closed my eyes.

  Thomas knocked on my window gently, but I hopped in my seat. I guess my nerves were still rattled from the attack, in fact, I knew it. Hands in the air after reading my reaction, he apologized and asked to sit in the car with me.

  “Are you okay?” He rubbed my shoulder. He hadn’t heard the disgusting comment and when I told him he grabbed the door handle, ready to confront. It took some convincing, but he stayed by my side. I twisted my rearview mirror to check my eyes when I noticed my hair. The caramel blond color of my hair had grown out and my roots revealed its truth.

  “I really need to get my hair back to brown. Brunettes don’t get attacked as often as blondes, right?” I said this more for me than for Thomas—but I felt I was withdrawing into a shell and I didn’t want to.

  Thomas had been patient and even though my divorce was nearly official, he didn’t ask about it. I really wanted to jump his bones, taste his lips for the first time, but Kaduku broke my spirit. I recoiled on life, but I didn’t want to lose sight of Thomas as this happened. He anchored me to reality somehow.

  The evening I sang for Thomas, the second time I attempted to let him into my life turned out tragic. Were the heavens trying to dissuade me from being happy? Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, I felt like my house was about to land after a twister and hit me squarely on my thighs, which no longer rubbed, mind you—but, was I the witch in my own story?

  It didn’t help that in another week I would have to find a new place to live. Thomas invited me in a round about way to stay with him and Tano, but I knew that was a bad idea. As much as the feelings I was having for Thomas were becoming I dare say, love, I didn’t want to jump into a situation again where I was so attached to a man—even a man as glorious and intelligent and kind as Thomas.

  Thomas pulled out his phone. I must have been so lost in my funky thoughts, sitting in silence, that he let me be.

  “Hey, sis, it’s me.” He smiled at me and I felt a wave of comfort lift my spirits. “Tom-Tom of course. Yeah, I’m in the parking lot.” I looked at his gorgeous profile, studying the details as he ran his long fingers through his honey hair. I marveled at how his smile could ignite the beauty of his face. I stared at his lips as he spoke and for me time stood still.

  “All clear. Let’s go.”

  “Huh?” I got lost in my reverie that I didn’t catch what just happened.

  “Where? What?”

  “All clear from Tam. I’ve got the afternoon off.” Just then the men walked out of the shop. Thomas’s face turned dark, his eyes menacing. I saw them in my peripheral visi
on and instinctively buried my face in his chest. I breathed in slowly the luscious scent that was Thomas. He stroked my hair so softly that I thought I dreamt it. The boisterous chatting of the men faded away and I felt his tension dissipate. His breathing slowed and his heartbeat followed. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms. I felt the lightest kiss on my head and looked up at him. His face transformed, his eyes large and serious. A slow smile danced on his lips and I responded in the like. Thomas stroked my face gently, his hands warm. “Let me drive.”

  His words were like magic setting me in motion. “Where are we going?” I was suddenly in the passenger seat, nerves and giddiness shooting me forward in time.

  “I’m taking you to find yourself.”

  “What?”

  “The Divas. They’re going to take care of you this fine afternoon.” Before I could object, we were on highway 5 headed to Pacific Beach. I cringed at possibly meeting up with Chazzer again. Thomas took care of that by going in to scope the area. Chazzer was off, by the graces of the Spa Gods. Thomas spoke to the stylist and got me an immediate appointment. I later found out that once he said my name, my recognizable maiden name, the young lady accepted the walk-in without question.

  “My lady?” He held his hand out for me.

  “Thomas, what are we doing, a massage?” I was about to argue that my injury was still tender.

  “No, let’s bring back the Chamorrita side of you.” I smiled widely when I realized that I would finally see my brown hair again. That should ward off unwanted attention from guys, I hoped.

  Thomas entertained my request to get himself a pedicure. He was so amazed at how awesome and smooth his feet turned out, that he asked me why I didn’t tell him about this chick secret sooner. The girls in the salon were thoroughly entranced by my friend. I didn’t mind that there were three beautiful salon divas fawning over Thomas—like Bradley, the green monster that sat in me divorced me too.

  The colorist leaned into me and after complimenting me on my girl-power-kicking-of-the-jerk’s ass at the bar, she asked to see my scar. Feeling like Harriet Potter with an awkwardly and sexily placed scar from Voldemort, I obliged. Thomas craned his neck and got an eyeful too. Good thing I wore my pretty panties, I mused, as I gingerly pulled my pants down past my hip bone. The almost “S” shaped scar was raised, still pink and angry. Cyndi—as her nametag indicated complimented me on my “boyfriend.”

  “You do realize that your boyfriend is a dead ringer for Edward Cullen.” She whispered.

  “You mean Robert Pattinson? No. Nope. Don’t see the resemblance.” Cyndi’s eyes opened wide and she guffawed. Thomas smiled as he pretended not to hear. “He’s more, hmm, a young Nathan Fillion.”

  “Now, I know that guy and I love Firefly.” Thomas said.

  After all that primping, I actually felt normal. “Thank you, Thomas.” I said as I reevaluated my image.

  “You look beautiful.” At his compliment, the girls made a collective sound like you do when you see a cute puppy. Awwwww. And he treated too, someone added. I looked at Thomas in disbelief as I reached for my purse.

  “Thomas, you didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know. But, I wanted to do that.” He smiled and winked.

  “Okay, coffee for the next three months on me.” I said.

  “I’ll take that deal, if I can hang with you for the next three months.” He offered his elbow and I accepted like we were about to embark on our prom. Thomas’s warm body pressed into mine as we left he salon. I paid for our coffees and we sat for a few minutes in the car. I enjoyed the warm cup as I gazed at Thomas.

  “So am I?” Thomas asked, breaking our easy silence.

  “Are you? Are you what?” I smiled.

  “Your friend or boyfriend?”

  “Um. Why do you ask? I mean, you’re my friend and you’re a boy, right?”

  “I ask because when the Diva said ‘your boyfriend,’ you didn’t correct her.”

  “I didn’t?” I guess I didn’t correct her, or the idea of Thomas as my boyfriend was gelling more and more in my mind.

  “It’s okay. I’ll take that non-protest of the word boyfriend any day.” He blushed. “Shall we…” and he leaned into my face, a flicker of mischief there… “karaoke?”

  I won’t lie. It was a kissable moment, but he was a man of honor. And, when did “karaoke” become a verb, I wondered. I hadn’t been to Pass the Mic in two weeks. And, despite the attack, I heard business was booming from Ty and Angelica. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Kang had Angelica frame my mug so he could place it behind the bar for all to gawk at. I wrangled up my fear, tucked it into a bag and decided to go for it. I deserved some fun with Thomas, didn’t I? Karaoke wasn’t a kiss, but it would do for now. “Let’s karaoke.” I finally said.

  I invited Ty and Angelica, it was Friday after all. Thomas said he would call Tano and the girl he was currently dating.

  It was going to be a great party.

  As we cruised, I did another bold thing. I pulled out my phone and cued up Thomas’s song. Yes, the illegal taping of the Mraz love song. We drove in happy silence, then I hit play. He heard the singing, which didn’t do hearing it live justice.

  A wry smile on his beautiful face, he said, “What the heck was that?” He didn’t sound angry, but amused to my relief.

  “I have something to admit.” I started. “I’m a Thomas-o-holic and I’ve been getting a hit every Sunday for the past few months.” God, that sounded lascivious, I thought. “I mean, your karaoke, your singing, not you, of course.”

  Thomas laughed and placed his hand on my thigh. I took his hand in mine and kept it there. I explained that I was going to the bar incognito just to hear one song every Sunday. I told him every song he sang in order from the last six weeks. He blushed bright red and shifted nervously in his seat. As he raised his right hand out of mine to sweep away the amber strands of hair from his eyes, he asked nervously if I had a recording for every week. He breathed a sigh of relief when I said it was just the one. Thomas reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his IPhone. He asked me to find track 10 on his recordings. I had a sinking feeling, and then, I heard me. I sang Dolphins. There was a lot of ambient noise, but that was me. He had the whole song recorded start to finish. I punched his arm and he whimpered, then his laughter boomed in the car. I joined him without jiggling too much since my S scar wasn’t too happy. My singing didn’t sound too shabby, I thought to myself. Maybe I could indeed hold a tune.

  It was almost eight o’clock when we pulled up to Pass the Mic. The bar wasn’t at capacity and I was able to walk by Mr. Kang unnoticed with my new coffee colored hair. I loved how it felt and the lightness of having five inches chopped off felt great too. Thomas complimented me to no end when it was done, saying he liked chocolate better than caramel anyway. Mr. Kang hugged me tight enough to make me cringe. Thomas my protector, swiftly asked Mr. Kang to lighten up, already undoing his arms around me. After ten apologies, Mr. Kang patted Thomas’s back. “She look good. You do this?” Gesturing to my hair. “She look happy and you look happy. We all happy, no?” Mr. Kang made me miss my dad and mom.

  We practically had the bar to ourselves, so after our first round of drinks and my trademark fried rice. I reminded Thomas that he owed me a song, now that he knew I was there in the audience. He didn’t hesitate and passed a slip written with the number he already memorized to Mr. Kang. The rest of our party would join us after nine, so it was nice to be sitting dead center by the stage, ready for Thomas to sing, just for me.

  A familiar melody started and Thomas cleared his throat. He can’t be nervous, I thought, but maybe he was. Angel Eyes by Jeff Healey was a beautiful, romantic way to start the evening. I swayed with his singing and wasn’t self-conscious when he made eye contact and gestured cheesily to me throughout the song. During a guitar break in the song, I glanced at Mr. Kang and he held up a lit match and moved out of beat. The match burned to his fingers and he flung it on the ground and started stomping
. Thomas and I shared a giggle and then he finished the ballad.

  I gave Thomas a standing ovation and Mr. Kang hooted and hollered at the bar. Several college students walked in and now the audience grew by seven. My song was next and a light veil of nervousness fell over me. I wanted to retreat to the booth I first sang at for anonymity, but I reminded myself that I was going to sing for Thomas and him alone. I handed my song slip to a smiling Mr. Kang.

  Thomas put a chair on the stage. I wasn’t going to be belting out a song anyway, opting for a subtle song. Alana Davis’s 32 Flavors, started with the lyrics right away. Any song about Phoenixes was automatically a winner in my book.

  I maintained eye contact with Thomas and felt the song until the end. Angelica and Ty arrived and sat at our usual booth while the applause started. I beamed as they all stood and applauded me. I tipped an invisible hat to them and took a small bow. I smiled knowing that this was my family.

  The fun night stretched into the wee hours of the morning. We bid our farewells to the couples and Thomas and I walked side by side to my car. If this was a romantic movie, I guess it would have been acceptable, heck even expected for us to kiss passionately and end up in bed at his place. He stood at the passenger side door and I gave myself a hug because of my exposed arms. I hadn’t expected to be out so late and I didn’t bring my jacket. Thomas wrapped me in his brown leather jacket, then kept his hands in his jean pockets and fidgeted side to side. We were like a pair of nervous teenagers about to have our first kiss.

  It was strange to think that at a quarter of a century in age, I had only kissed one other person in this world. In this vast interesting world of seven billion people. Being one of the many blessed to be from Guam with a population of 180,000, I chose one to latch onto—the wrong one. Only to travel to California to find THE One.