by Kyra Davis
“I can’t go to jail.”
“Leah! You are not going to jail. You didn’t do anything. It was me! Me, me, me, me!”
“Right. Because it’s always about you, isn’t it?”
“Oh, my God!” I turned back to the twenty-year-old Vietnam vet because clearly he had a better grasp on reality than my sister.
My phone rang and Marcus’s name appeared on the screen. I picked up, grateful for the distraction. “What’s up?”
“Hmm, let’s see,” he said, sounding more tired than I had ever heard him before, “I’m with the beautiful and charming Mary Ann and we just dropped off Dena’s remarkably hideous and uncharming parents at the airport.”
“You took her parents back to the airport? They’re not staying?” In the background I could hear Mary Ann say something but I couldn’t make out what.
“Long story but the short answer is no,” he said. “They’re going back to Arizona.”
“What! They can’t do that! Dena needs them!”
“Oh, darling, I beg to differ. Dena needs human compassion and her mother has no compassion, and the jury’s still out on the human thing. If Joan Crawford and the abominable snowman ever had a secret love child, surely it was Isa.”
“What exactly happened?”
Marcus sighed. “Why don’t I tell you in person. Mary Ann and I are on our way back to my place to drink away the memories, and therapeutic drinking just isn’t the same without my favorite functioning alcoholic doing shots by my side.”
“That’s me? The functioning alcoholic?”
“Honey, you’re misquoting me. I said you were my favorite functioning alcoholic. Will you come over?”
“I have Leah with me.”
“Well, bring her along. Leah’s always so much more enjoyable after I’ve had a couple of cocktails.”
“You mean after she’s had a couple of cocktails.”
“No, I spoke correctly.”
I smiled to myself. “Okay, we’re on our way right now.” I hung up just as the light turned from yellow to red, leaving us stuck in the middle of the intersection, a line of idling cars in front of us. “You’re in luck—we can ‘hide out,’” I said making quotation figures out of my fingers for the last two words. “Marcus just invited us over.”
“I noticed you didn’t tell him about Chrissie,” Leah noted as the crossing traffic maneuvered around us while simultaneously honking their horns and yelling obscenities.
“That is better told in person.” And then they’ll want to hit her, too, I added silently. By the time I was done Chrissie would be the most despised woman in town. But of course that wasn’t enough. I wouldn’t be satisfied until she was relocated to a maximum security prison and rooming with someone with a name like Big Bertha.
When we got to Marcus’s apartment on upper Polk Street, he already had a drink in his hand. Actually it was a shot glass filled with something that looked dangerously indulgent. He ushered us in wordlessly and Mary Ann smiled weakly as we entered the brightly lit living room. She gripped her wineglass with both hands. I was fairly sure that if she held it any tighter it would shatter.
“Mary Ann?” I said questioningly.
“Um…I think I’m beginning to understand why people turn to alcohol for comfort,” Mary Ann said, almost too quietly for me to hear.
I hesitated. I had assumed that the idea of drinking the pain away had come entirely from Marcus. In all the years that I had known Mary Ann I had never heard her utter the words I need a drink. It was a phrase I used almost every day, but that’s me. If Mary Ann was craving alcohol the visit between Dena and her parents must have been even worse than I imagined.
Leah gazed at the glass and then at Mary Ann’s face. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I will be…I think.” Mary Ann took a gulp of her wine. “I’m glad you guys came over. I want to be around a lot of people. Monty’s working and if I have to be alone with my thoughts I think I might end up screaming.” She giggled and it was impossible not to hear the note of hysteria.
Leah sighed and sat down next to her. Marcus’s black leather couch wrinkled slightly under her weight. “I’m so sorry about Dena.”
Mary Ann stared down into her wine. “You should have heard her mother,” she whispered. “She told Dena that this was God’s will.”
My mouth fell open. “What was? Her being shot? What kind of God does her mother pray to?”
“She said that God wanted to stop Dena from being wicked. That he sent her attacker to…to humble her, Sophie! She really said that to her!”
I felt the lump of disgust press its way down my throat.
“Yes, perhaps my abominable Joan Crawford speculation was a bit tame,” Marcus said as he stared down at the knots in his pinewood floor. “Isa is more like the human equivalent of a hamster.”
“A hamster?” I repeated. “How is she like a hamster?”
“Hamsters occasionally eat their own young,” Leah explained. “I unknowingly bought Jack a pregnant hamster…and shortly after she delivered she ate her children.”
Marcus nodded sagely as if the cannibalistic nature of pet-store hamsters was common knowledge. I still had my doubts. Jack was my nephew, which meant that I had to love him, but animals had no such obligation. In fact any animal with a brain the size of a…well, a hamster, would be terrified of Jack. He was like that wicked little girl who brutalized all the fish in Finding Nemo. Perhaps the mommy hamster was just trying to save her children from a fate worse than death.
“I grew up with Dena and her parents,” Mary Ann went on, completely ignoring our rodent metaphors. “Not that we lived in the same house or anything but Isa is my dad’s cousin…they were the only family we had here in San Francisco, or even on the West Coast! I know Isa’s always been sort of…quick to judge but this is too much! Dena’s her daughter!”
Again Marcus nodded and this time he brought his drink to his lips and consumed it in one graceful gulp. “I think I’m going to need another one of these. Anyone else want one?”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Vodka and peppermint schnapps. Its official name is Absolut Disaster, which I think is eerily appropriate for the occasion.” He turned his back to us as he made his way to the kitchen. “I’ll get one for each of us, shall I?”
“None for me,” Leah called after him, although by that time Marcus had already left the room so it was unclear if he had heard her. The room grew quiet as we all contemplated evil mothers, both human and hamster. A small spider crawled up the wall behind Leah’s head and I wondered if it, too, had plans to destroy what it was supposed to care for. And really, why weren’t Dena’s parents trying to hunt down her attacker the way that I was? They should have been there with me this afternoon. They should have held Chrissie down while I beat the shit out of her! They were supposed to be angry at the shooter, not their injured daughter!
The very thought of Chrissie made me agitated and I turned away from the other two women and stared out the window at the apartment buildings across the street. I knew who shot Dena and I didn’t know what to do about it. The police already suspected her so I probably needed to sit back and let them do their job. That’s what Anatoly would advise. But how was that even possible? How could I be standing here at Marcus’s place doing nothing?
“How did Dena take it?” I heard Leah ask.
“Not well,” Mary Ann sighed. “She seems…depressed.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Marcus said. He reentered the room with a tray full of shot glasses. He put it down on the coffee table in front of Mary Ann and Leah but neither of them reached for a drink. Marcus and I on the other hand drank ours posthaste.
“I’ve actually been to the hospital twice today,” he said as he put his newly empty glass back on the tray. “She said she wasn’t in much pain. You’d think that would be a good thing but she didn’t seem all that happy about it. And then Jason Von Freakshow showed up but she barely broke a smile.”
<
br /> “Jason was there? Did he come bearing almonds?”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
Marcus gave me a funny look but let it slide. “He was very attentive. He even gave her a foot massage…with a condom.”
“What!”
“He put an extra-large magnum on her foot and gave her a foot rub.”
Leah closed her eyes against the image.
“I thought it was adorable. I even offered to stand outside and guard the door to her room so Jason could service her Grey’s Anatomy–style. But do you know what she told me?”
“What?’
“She said, and I’m quoting, ‘I’m not in the mood!’ Our Dena said that!”
“For God’s sake, Marcus,” Leah interjected, “the woman was just shot. Of course she doesn’t want to…do that.”
Mary Ann crossed and uncrossed her legs. “I know that a normal person probably wouldn’t want to do it so soon after being attacked but…um…Dena’s never really been normal and…I don’t know. It’s just so hard to imagine her saying no to something like that. I mean she never has before. Remember when we went to visit Leah in the hospital after she had Jack? Dena disappeared on us and an hour later we found her in the hospital chapel with the orderly?”
“Ah, yes.” I laughed. “Her first spiritual experience in a church.”
“Or the time she got it on with that guy in the Frankenstein costume in the haunted house at the county fair!” Marcus dropped down on the armrest of his leather armchair, his eyes lighting up at the memory.
“Well, you know what they say about Frankenstein,” I said.
“What?” Leah asked warily.
“He has big…appendages. Or can be outfitted with them…”
“Um.” Mary Ann nervously tapped her toe against Marcus’s hardwood floors. “I’m not sure I want to talk about Frankenstein’s appendages. I was just trying to say that Dena not being in the mood…well, it’s sort of scary to think about it.”
“Honey, Kate Gosselin’s hair is sort of scary,” Marcus said dryly. “Dena saying no to sexual pleasure is completely terrifying. I was there an hour and she barely spoke to either Jason or me. She just lay there quietly watching game shows on that ugly little television mounted up in the corner of the room!”
Leah turned to me. “I take it you never got to the hospital gift shop?”
“I did!” I protested. “I… Wait. Actually no, I guess I didn’t get there. But I meant to! See, I was distracted by Jason and…”
Leah gave me a withering look and I immediately lowered my head. “No excuses. I should have gotten the magazines.”
“I don’t think magazines would have helped things,” Marcus went on. “It was awful, Alex Trebek awful!”
“She needs something to fight for,” Leah said thoughtfully.
“Walking isn’t something to fight for?” Marcus asked with a scoff.
Mary Ann took in a shaky breath. “You know what, guys? I don’t think I can talk about this anymore.” She used the back of her hand to wipe away the beginnings of a tear. “Can we talk about something else? Anything else would be fine. Just for a few minutes, okay?”
Again the room became quiet with the only noise coming from the street four stories below us. Was there anything else? I had been so consumed with thoughts of Dena that I had for gotten that there might be other things worthy of my attention.
Leah cleared her throat in a purposeful manner. “So Mary Ann, Sophie tells me you’re getting married.”
A weak smile slipped onto Mary Ann’s lips seemingly without her even noticing it. She lifted her hand so Leah could see her ring. “Monty proposed on Saturday,” she said and then her smile wavered as she undoubtedly thought about everything that had happened since Saturday.
“Do you have a wedding date?” Leah pressed.
“No, I mean we were talking about having a long engagement…maybe a year or even a year and a half. We want to allow ourselves enough time to do it right without being stressed.”
“Perfect,” Leah said approvingly. “But don’t put off the planning.”
“I really don’t see how I can plan for a wedding right now with everything that’s going on.”
“Nonsense! This is the perfect time to plan for your wedding! You need to have something completely positive in your life right now. Something fun and exciting to hold on to to help you get through all of this. And Dena needs it, too. Don’t let her stew in her own depression. Make her part of your celebration.”
“Well, she is going to be the maid of honor,” Mary Ann said. Her smile was getting stronger by the second.
“You see?” Leah chirped. “Weddings make everybody happy. Now, the first thing you need to do is pick the location where you want to get married.”
“Leah’s really good at this stuff,” I said dutifully. “All her clients love her.”
“Um, yes, I know,” Mary Ann said. She was beginning to look uncomfortable.
“You know Treasure Island is a wonderful spot,” Leah said brightly. “And then you could have the entire skyline of San Francisco as the backdrop for your vows. I actually know the woman who’s in charge of handling booking for the Treasure Island facilities. If you hire me as your wedding coordinator I could probably get you a great deal.”
“If you hire Leah there won’t be any stress involved in the planning at all,” I said cheerily. That probably wasn’t true since most of my interactions with my sister involved some level of stress but I had promised that I would pimp her to Mary Ann if she set up the Chrissie meeting and I was a woman of my word.
Mary Ann ran her finger around her wineglass. “Um…that really is very sweet of you, Leah, but Monty and I sort of have something else in mind.”
“Not a problem at all,” Leah said quickly. “Just tell me what kind of wedding you want and I’ll make it happen.”
“Um…okay, but the thing is…” Mary Ann hesitated long enough to take another deep breath. “Okay, please don’t make fun of me, you guys, but Monty and I really want to get married at Disneyland.”
For about thirty seconds the room became completely silent except for the little clicking sound of Leah’s gnashing teeth.
“Disneyland,” Marcus repeated, drawing out the word until it had become at least five syllables.
Mary Ann nodded. “We’re going to be married in the park. I’m going to arrive in Cinderella’s coach and Monty’s going to dress up like a prince. And of course we’ll hire a couple of the Disney cast members to dress up like footmen. One of them will deliver the ring. Oh, and we were thinking of having Mickey and Minnie lead some of the dances at the reception. Monty wanted to actually make them part of the wedding party but I thought that might be a bit much. What do you think?”
Leah’s teeth were no longer gnashing. Her mouth, like mine, was now hanging wide-open. Marcus slowly sank into his leather armchair and stared across the coffee table at Mary Ann. “I think,” he said in a voice two octaves below his normal speaking voice, “that this is the most fabulous thing I’ve ever heard. You are going to put Disney’s Gay Day to shame!”
Leah reached for her shot glass and knocked it back.
“Well,” I said uncertainly, “that’s really going to be…” I looked over at Marcus. “I need an adjective.”
“Fabulous!” Marcus said again. “Fabulous, fabulous, fabulous. Sophie, this is so much better than the time you were married in Vegas by that female Elvis impersonator!”
“Right, this definitely tops that.” I shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “Of course I was really drunk that night. I do think that Dena may not be as…um…motivated to walk down the aisle as your maid of honor if Mickey Mouse is your best man so you might want to keep the characters out of the wedding party.”
“Oh, I don’t think so at all,” Marcus cut in. “And you should have mouse ears on your veil. Just seriously kitsch it up.”
“No,” Mary Ann said thoughtfully, “I thi
nk Sophie might be right about this. Of course I was thinking of having Tinker Bell there. She could throw pixie dust on us at the end of the ceremony for luck.”
“Perfect!” Marcus cried. “In fact you should have everybody throw pixie dust! You could hand it out instead of rice!”
“Marcus…” I said in a warning tone.
“You think that would also be too much?” Mary Ann asked.
“What does she know,” Marcus said dismissively. “She had her reception at Denny’s.”
“I did not! I had dinner after the wedding at Denny’s! There was no reception.”
Marcus gave Mary Ann a meaningful look. “See what I mean?”
Leah lifted her shot glass. “Can I get another one of these?”
“You’re driving,” I pointed out.
Marcus proceeded to pepper Mary Ann with all sorts of questions. He wanted to know if she’d be walking down to the Wedding March or It’s a Small World. He wanted to know if Tinker Bell would be the only pixie on hand or if she’d be bringing her new and incredibly ethnically diverse group of pixie friends. He wanted to know if he could bring a couple of friends and if they could come in drag, because really, what drag queen hasn’t dreamed of dressing up like a Disney princess at least once in her life?
And all the while I couldn’t help but think about how absurd this all was. Granted a Disneyland wedding would seem absurd to me in even the best of circumstances but these were not the best of circumstances. Dena would be in a wheelchair for God only knew how long. The person who had done that to Dena was probably in her own home right now holding a bag of peas to her eye and there was a very, very slight possibility that there was an assault-and-battery charge hanging over my head. I understood why Mary Ann wanted to talk about something else and I wanted to be a supportive friend and partake in the distraction but I simply couldn’t do it.
“I think I know who shot Dena.”
Immediately Marcus and Mary Ann shut up.
“Her name’s Chrissie Powell,” I said, pressing on, my words running into each other without any inflection to speak of. “She’s the founder of MAAP. Dena slept with Chrissie’s husband, Tim, shortly before they were married and Chrissie’s never gotten over it. She seems to think that Dena and Tim are still involved even though it ended years ago. She’s written articles about Dena that have been distributed on these fanatically prudish Web sites. Her last article suggested that the world would be a better place without Dena in it and now the police are questioning her about Dena’s shooting and today I went over to her house and I punched her in the face.”
