by Tracy Ellen
Jazy declared, “Yeah, if one of you damn women aren’t pregnant going into Event Night, you will be afterwards.” She looked around at our confused faces. “Uh, hello? Darcy Milton, anybody--does bushy red hair and blue eyes ring any bells? When she showed me a picture of her latest baby at Bel’s birthday party, I would swear the kid’s a dead ringer for what’s-his-name, that delivery guy at Bel’s Books.”
Anna giggled and said to me, “She’s gotta be talking about Diver Don.”
“Darcy showed me baby Apollo’s picture, too.” Stella laughed and shook her head. “That crazy head of red hair does match Diver Don’s.”
“Who is this guy? Why do you call him Diver Don?” Mac inquired, not looking up from meticulously frosting alternating ruddy red stripes on a candy cane-shaped cookie.
“Is he a fisherman?” Mia Besosa asked. Her first year attending the party, my protégé fit in like an old hand at cookie decorating. She was imitating Mac’s disciplined approach, and painstakingly color washing an ornament cutout with a small paint brush dipped in diluted vegetarian food coloring of a murky purplish hue.
“We never told you about Diver Don?” I asked my sister, surprised. “He doesn’t live in Northfield, so you wouldn’t know him. He delivered for Fed Ex to the store once or twice a week for a couple of months.” I chuckled. “No, Mia, he wasn’t a fisherman, per se. His first name’s Don, obviously, but we called him Diver Don because the guy thought he was God’s gift in the oral sex department.”
Mac and Mia’s heads both shot up, but it was Mac who exclaimed with a laugh, “What?”
Stella shuddered. “Oh, it gets raunchier than that, Mom. Once he asked me out for dinner. When I said no thanks because I’d already eaten, do you know what he said?” Even in her disgust, Stella laughed a little helplessly. “He said, ‘Well I haven’t, so why don’t you sit on my face and let me eat my way to your heart’?” Over the appalled laughter around the dining room table, she added in a choked voice, “And when I said ‘Bite me!’ He said, ‘Oh, don’t worry, I will because it’s not going to bite itself, now is it’?”
Snorting despite her outrage, Mac remonstrated, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this man. That’s terrible, Stella.”
Anna grinned broadly. “Hey, Diver Don informed me that he had a black belt in Tongue Fu.”
“He told me he was the 2012 Minnesota State Fair Pie Eating Champion,” I said with a straight face, as Mac’s eyes bulged in disbelief and the other girls made gagging sounds.
“Oh, was that what Diver Don meant when he said pie was the breakfast of champions?” Larissa asked in her gentle voice. Misunderstanding Anna’s sharp burst of laughter, Larissa giggled, too. “Now I see he was joking, but at the time I told him ‘Diver Don, it’s not pie--it’s Wheaties!’ ”
I dared not look at the giggling Anna or Jazy, or anybody else with a filthy bone in their body, which meant all the women in my apartment, except Larissa.
Larissa is my employee and Jazy’s old friend from high school. She suffered terribly in an abusive marriage. She’s come a long way since her divorce, but was generally extremely leery of men. Apparently, inexplicably, she found Diver Don to be harmless. She’s a lovely, kind girl, inside and out, but incredibly naïve and possesses no street smarts.
I had to know, but was careful to keep my voice conversationally neutral. “Umm, Larissa? Did you ever call him Diver Don when you spoke to him?”
She answered earnestly, “Oh yes.” She smiled over at my niece. “I remembered that’s what Stella always called him, so I did, too.”
I ignored Anna’s strangled gasp and smiled at Larissa. “Did he ever ask you why you called him Diver Don?”
Larissa looked up at the ceiling and thought about my question. “You know, he did ask me why once a long time ago.” Her lips twisted in a sheepish grimace and then she giggled again. “I told him that I didn’t know for sure. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I told him a little white lie, a fib.”
I cut Anna a droll look and then shrugged in agreement. “Hey, sometimes a girl has to fib for a good cause, Larissa. No biggie. What did you tell him?”
She put a hand up to her head. “I told him it had to do with all that red hair when he went diving for muff.” Anna jumped up and ran to the kitchen sink, but I kept my eyes firmly on Larissa’s heart-shaped face, although I had to bite my lower lip. I nodded encouragingly and Larissa went on, “I explained to Diver Don that I wasn’t positive what kind of fish muff was, since I’ve never heard of them, or anybody diving for fish in Minnesota.” She shrugged it off with a giggle and continued in her sweet voice, “I just knew Stella had mentioned all of that hair of his must get in the way when he went muff diving, so I told him we called him Diver Don because he looked like a big red crawdaddy.”
“Well, okay then.” I tried to follow that logic, but gave up and held my hand out for a high five while I gasped out, “Greatest fib ever, Larissa!”
We smacked across the table. She blushed happily, as she high-fived her way around the table, laughing with us all.
Mac was smirking. “I still can’t believe a man would be so stupidly crass in this day and age. Hasn’t he heard of sexual harassment laws?”
Jazy raised her brows. “Excuse me, have you met our brother?”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, Mac. Once we realized he was a perv, Diver Don was yanked. But he was around during the timeframe last year when we had Event Night here at the apartment.” I gave Jazy a pointed look. “However, Ms. Rumormonger, the other day I was reading Genetics for Dummies. It’s possible for two brown-eyed, brown-haired parents to give birth to a red-haired, blue-eyed baby.”
“Aha! So you were worried Drunk Darcy got muff dived and her baby daddy is a red crawfish,” Jaz stated with smiling satisfaction.
“No,” I corrected loftily, “I happen to like reading up on genetics in my spare time and stumbled upon that pertinent tidbit.”
“Liar, Liar!” Anna accused smugly.
Tre J proposed we vote on Event Night.
Of the women present, Anna, Stella, Mac, and Kenna were on the summer side of the fence. Jazy, Tre, Mia Besosa, and I were on the winter. It was left to the undecided Larissa to be the tie-breaker.
The Event Night debate continued throughout the cookie frosting and decorating process, but in sweet voices through clenched teeth. Both sides were trying to convince Larissa to choose their date, but I wouldn’t allow even an echo of heckling or arm twisting. I fear some cookie Santas ended up decorated with pissed off snarls, instead of jolly Old St. Nick smiles, and some reindeer looked rabid.
Nibbling on cookies, Larissa listened with big blue eyes to every argument put before her. Finally, after Larissa apologized profusely to Jazy and me, she explained her vote was yes for the darling mothers because everyone loved babies.
Concealing my grin at Jazy’s snarl of disgust, I assured Larissa we respected her voting true to her heart, even as I nodded to Tre.
She brought her phone to her mouth. After a brief moment, she shot up to wave her phone in the air to interrupt the gloating cheers from the mother brigade. She quieted everybody and played her speakerphone, so we could all hear Darcy Milton voting yes for winter--as long as the date was after January 15th, when she planned to have baby Apollo weaned off the breast.
After all that, the sugar cookie party ended in a five to five stalemate for the date of the next Event Night.
On Saturday, I was still working at Bel’s late in the afternoon when Luke texted to say Arthur and his boys had spent hours running rampant all over the farm.
When Luke arrived Saturday night to pick me up to leave for our dinner date at the Miltons, it was an hour earlier than necessary, but by my design this time.
As Luke waited, he wandered through the living room, examining the different framed photos and trinkets displayed on the built-in bookshelves. He raised his voice to idly mention that Arthur had to leave baby Apollo at home with his mother that
day.
Bringing in two opened bottles of beer from the kitchen, I repeated in amused horror, “Had to!”
I didn’t ask for any more details. It was self-explanatory to me why only an insane person would consider bringing an infant to the farm in the first place. I assumed Darcy had straightened Arthur’s shit out, as usual. As it was, I snorted every time I thought of Luke and Arthur chasing the three precocious toddlers under age four that were out there at the farm.
Smiling enticingly, I waggled the beers at Luke. Placing the bottles on the side table next to the club chair, I successfully maneuvered Luke into sitting down in the living room without saying one word.
He sighed contentedly and stretched out his legs. “Thanks, you don’t know how much I need this tonight.” He brought one of the bottles to his lips while eyeing me. “You look great.”
Smiling my thanks demurely, I took a small sip from the other bottle. I don’t even like beer, but it was a necessary prop.
I wore my blonde hair loose and wavy, a tightly fitted white blouse over a push up bra, thigh high white stockings, and black clunky heels, and no undies under my shortish black skirt. Not that Luke knew that-- yet.
My extra hour was going to be put to good use practicing an oral sex technique I researched online called A Room with a View. According to the instructions, the male species is stimulated by visuals. The extra visuals I planned were supposed to induce heightened sexual stimulation to improve the quality of the overall male fellatio experience.
Aside from my tight clothes that were more suggestive than revealing, it also involved a mirror and me wearing lots of glossy, dark red lipstick. Before Luke arrived, I’d placed the long mirror strategically at a slight angle against the wall across from the club chair where my war-god now lounged.
I stepped casually in between his sprawled muscular thighs and leaned way over to reach the beer bottle on the table off to his side. By the flaring of his eyes, I believe I’d correctly calculated the placement of the mirror behind me.
My phone on the dining room table rang then and I recognized Darcy’s ringtone of “Fortune Teller” by the Stones.
I walked over to answer, aware of Luke tracking my every move with a slight smile.
I blew him a kiss.
Darcy blurted out, “I’m so sorry, but we have to cancel for tonight. Apollo’s got a bug. He’s been feverish and whiny all day, and insisting that I hold him every second. He’s spitting up and got diarrhea. If I have to change another poop diaper, I’m going to scream, which is TMI, I know, so I apologize for that, too. Now Ajax has spiked a temp, and he won’t let me put him down, either.”
From her raised voice, so unlike her normal quiet tones, Darcy was stressing big time.
She went on, “I’ve about broken my back carrying them both this past half hour, but Ajax cries if Arthur even comes near him.” She made a soothing noise to a pitiful bleat in the background. Her voice came back at full volume and she sounded at her wits end. “I’m so bummed, Bel. I have a nice rolled roast in the oven and all sorts of other goodies. I was so looking forward to getting to know Luke better. Arthur and I wanted to talk with you about the papers we gave you and our plan for the boys…”
“No problem,” I interrupted or Darcy would go on apologizing all night for something she clearly had no control over. I heard Ajax fussing again in the background, moaning for his mommy. “You guys take care of the A team and don’t worry about anything. Arthur gave me the papers and of course, my answer is yes. Darcy, it’s an honor that you and Arthur asked me to do this for your boys. I wish you all the best Christmas with Arthur’s parents. We’ll talk after New Year’s when we can catch our breaths, okay?”
“Oh, Bel, that’s wonderful.” Her voice was on the verge of tears, which was also unlike the competent Darcy. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that, especially since the boys don’t have any aunts and uncles waiting in the wings to spoil them or step up. We know how you feel about kids, but I want you to know you were our first choice anyway.” She laughed tiredly. “I can’t believe you agreed so easily or am I delirious?” Her voice faded. “Arthur sweetie, do I have a fever, too?” Something hit the phone on her end and she cut out a sec on mine. “Oops, sorry. Anyhow, I thought we’d have to beat you or blackmail you somehow, since I know pity doesn’t work on you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, even as I protested, “Hey, don’t get all carried away. It’s not like I don’t adore those little hellions.”
It wasn’t the first time people who had children incorrectly assumed the same thing about me that Darcy had. Sure I didn’t want kids of my own, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying theirs. Arthur’s job had taken them to California for two years. Now that they lived back in the Twin Cities, I made a special effort to see their cute kids.
Arthur and Darcy’s extended family was practically nonexistent, neither of them having siblings. Arthur’s parents were elderly, retired, and lived half the year in Arizona. Darcy was adopted. She had been very close with her adoptive mother, but she passed away of breast cancer when Darcy was nineteen. She wasn’t close to her adopted father. He had always been a workaholic. Within a few months of his wife’s death, he got transferred to South Carolina, got remarried, and bowed out of Darcy’s life.
Darcy and I were friends throughout school, but we had truly bonded when Darcy went through that dark period in her life after her mom died and before Arthur and the kids came along. I had recently dumped Mike McClain’s non-cheating, cheating ass, so Darcy and I were quite the pair of Debbie Downers.
Regardless of the past, it was still the perfect time to make a deal now.
So I said, “No bribes necessary, Darce, you only have to promise not to tell my fortune. Deal?”
“Never something for nothing, see why I think you’ll be amazing with the boys, Bel? Deal,” Darcy agreed, relief mixed in with the smile in her voice.
“Good. Now go put cold cloths on little foreheads or something. We have plenty of time to get together to discuss the celebration when you guys return from Tucson and I get back from Vegas. So don’t fret, my pet.”
“Thank you, and please give Luke our apologies. The boys can’t stop talking about his farm, or Arthur, either, for that matter. Oh, and about the invite? Er, it’s more of a meeting than a celebr…” The screeching wail of an infant cut Darcy off mid-sentence and then I heard the violent sounds of retching. “Oh no! Arthur, quick, grab those towels. Ajax vomited all over me and the baby, too.” Darcy hastily yelled, “Later, Bel!”
“It’s pizza for us tonight,” I tossed the phone aside and licked my red lips as I walked towards Luke, “but I hope you can wait until later. Much, much later.”
We never did eat that pizza.
Luke left for Chicago on Sunday to spend Christmas with his family. Damaris and Paul had invited me, as well, but understood I couldn’t come this year due to my other commitments. In turn, the Drakes were unable to come to Vegas due to their prior engagements and work schedules.
The time was fast approaching for a final decision from Blanca, the girl we’d rescued from her abusive, gambling step-father. Anna and I had met with Aunt Maria at Bel’s to discuss the situation. Thankfully, it was considerably less dramatic than the previous meeting. Maria was still her excitable, chattering self, but she was charming when there were no crying hysterics or death grip hugs involved.
Blanca could stay in Faribault and attend Shattuck boarding school or move to Chicago and live with the Drakes. Aunt Maria was understandably apprehensive of her niece possibly relocating to Chicago. However, knowing it was Luke’s parents, and his mother was a renowned attorney, set most of Maria’s concerns at ease.
Maria spoke on the phone with Blanca to be sure of her niece’s wishes, and had a long conversation with Damaris as well. That clinched it for Maria and she gave permission for Blanca to accompany Luke to Chicago. The young girl had been staying with Jazy, but since my sister would be gone from town in Vega
s, Blanca would visit with the Drakes through New Year’s. Regardless of where Blanca decided to live, she was in for the time of her life staying with Damaris and Paul over the holidays. I was sure she’d be spoiled to death.
On Sunday morning before the store opened, I stood with my Dark Prince at the back entrance to Bel’s to see him off. Instead of abruptly leaving, as I had grown used to with Luke’s departures, he held me loosely in his arms. He seemed in no hurry to go pick up Blanca and hit the road to Chicago.
The back parking lot was empty, but for our lone truck idling a tail of white exhaust and a few piles of dirty snow on the sides. Sunshine streamed in through the front display windows of the bookstore, but the center of the store was gloomy with shadows where the light didn’t penetrate. I cherished this quiet time in Bel’s.
Luke looked around us in his calmly measuring way that seemed to take in every detail without effort. He was a cross between Riddick and the Terminator, only sexier.
I was content to bask in the endorphins his nearness released throughout my body while I waited for him to speak his mind or decide to go.
“I like this building,” Luke stated, nodding. “Next week, I want to go over every inch of the basement.”
“You do, eh?” Chuckling, I raised my head from his chest. Not exactly what I was expecting to hear when we were separating to not spend our first Christmas together as a couple.
“Your brother told me there’s a hidden room down there.”
“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.” Recalling the only time he’d taken me into the secret bunker under Great Uncle Benny’s house on the farm, I added, “And I don’t mean blindfolded.” I paused and tapped my lip while slanting a naughty look up at Luke. “Or do I?”
“I’m going to miss that lippy, talented mouth.” Luke kissed me once lightly, and then pulled me closer to kiss me again. His eyes were heavy-lidded. “I enjoyed your mouth with the red lipstick, Princess.” My grin was huge when he started to slide on his sunglasses, but then he stopped to glance down at me over the top rims. “Oh, and pencil me in for Christmases from now on. I don’t like this separation.” Luke’s lips curved up in reaction to my quick grimace. “Okay, now I know for sure you don’t despise Christmas, so what’s with the pouty face?”
