Women of Washington Avenue

by Linda Apple

  “Could be. But we will save it for another time.”

  Darn. I hated not being in the know, and she had clearly out maneuvered me. “Where’s the corkscrew. Maybe wine will loosen your lips.”

  “Don’t count on it.” She opened the screen door. “I set everything up in the living room. It’s on the table.”

  Jema’s living and dining area was a large open space. She had set a darling table. The plates were stacked on one end and the wine glasses were lined up. A pink Depression glass bowl held the bar equipment. At the other end she had four caricatures of the cartoon Maxine the Crabby Lady mounted on cardboard stands. Each of our names were paired with one of the caricatures. Lexi’s was Maxine complaining about men. Mine was about cooking. Jema’s was about irritating customers, but Avalee’s took the prize. It was the one of Maxine walking out the door and her saying her butt jiggle was her way of saying goodbye. Knowing Avalee’s obsession with her weight, she’d die when she saw it. I never knew Jema had such an ornery streak.

  “Is Avalee here yet?” Lexi stormed through the door with a bottle of red and two of white. “Didn’t bring food. I don’t plan on eating anyway. Where do I put these?”

  I motioned. “In here.”

  She put her Syrah beside mine and plunged the whites in the ice bucket.

  “That’s a lot of wine, Lex.” I picked up the corkscrew. “Bad week?”

  “The worst. Where is Avalee? I’m so mad I could bust.” Lexi yanked a bottle out of the ice. “I’d like to take this bottle, walk to New York, and clobber Mr. Nathan, big-shot jackass, Wolfe over the head.”

  Jema and I asked at the same time, “Who?”

  Avalee waltzed in and set down a plate of cheese and crackers. “Who’s got your panties in a knot, Lexi?” She noticed her name over Maxine’s cartoon. “Funny, Jema.”

  Lexi pulled the cork from the bottle. “I’ll talk about it after my first glass.”

  “I set up the porch for us to whine outside,” said Jema. “How about it?”

  “I’m about to rant big time.” Lexi filled her glass. “I’d rather not do it for all the neighbors to see, if that is okay with everyone.”

  “All right, Lex. Sounds like we’d better get started before you self-combust.” Jema opened the Chardonnay and poured.

  We filled our plates and went to the sectional sofa. Frankly, I was glad to see Lexi so fired up. It gave me time to work up my courage to mention Colin. “Let ’er rip, Lexi.”

  “Well, y’all know I wrote Avalee’s friend for advice and sent some examples? Well, I finally heard from him today. He certainly took long enough, and frankly I wished he hadn’t bothered.” She lifted the goblet to her lips and drank deep. Then she produced a folded sheet of paper. “Here, ladies, is his inspired, professional reply.” After another drink, she cleared her throat and began to read in her most sarcastic voice.

  Dear Ms. Lowe,

  In regards to your email, I have read your examples and some of the responses you received. What I have to say is probably not something you expect or want to hear. But I must say it all the same and remember, you asked for my opinion and advice.

  To begin with, it is hard for me to be impressed with so few responses. However, with such a small circulation I’m sure it seemed significant to you. But in all honesty, it isn’t.

  Secondly, while the emails from these poor women are distressing, might I remind you that there are two sides to every story? Frankly, you sound like a frustrated, bitter female who hasn’t been bedded in quite some time.

  Finally, what good is a column like this? If you stop and honestly think about it, while the column does offer women a place to vent, in a very short time your readers will tire of it and consider it insipid.

  My advice is this; if you truly care about these women, then do something to help them. Get other points of view. Men for example. Maybe even the mistresses. Start a dialogue. Make helpful (not bitter) observations.

  Of course, I realize this may not be possible in your current frame of mind. My advice? Get laid.

  Sincerely,

  Nathan Wolfe

  Oh sweet Lord. I nearly choked on my wine. Avalee pressed her lips together and stared at Lexi owl-eyed. Jema covered her mouth with her free hand. Fits of laughter demanding to be set free electrified the air.

  Lexi put the paper down and glared at us. “What?”

  Jema pressed her lips with her fingers until the tips turned white. Her shoulders shook. Ava blew her cheeks out. What the heck? I threw my head back and let ’er rip. I hadn’t laughed that hard in years. Jema and Avalee followed suit and howled. I fell on the floor and held my stomach. Tears rolled into my ears.

  Lexi jumped up, stomped to the table and refilled her glass. “I’m certainly glad I’m such good entertainment this evening.” She swallowed more wine.

  Avalee caught her breath. “Sorry, Lexi. But that was so funny.”

  With a thump she set her glass down and folded her arms. “Well, I don’t see a thing funny about it. He trashed my column and made me sound like a shrew. The jerk.”

  “You have to know him.” Ava wiped her eyes. “He’s really a nice man. His sense of humor is really dry. That’s all. And really, he does have good advice. In fact, it sounds a lot like what I told you, if you will remember...and admit.”

  “Oh pffft, Avalee.” Lexi snatched a piece of cheese.

  Jema blew her nose, then chimed in. “He really does, Lexi.”

  “Even I can see what he is saying.” I picked up the scone plate and passed it around.

  “For instance?” Lexi strode back to the couch and dropped on the cushions. “Enlighten me.”

  “Well,” I said. “After a while it would get tedious reading all those sad stories. All those problems with no real solutions. Sounds like a recipe for reader frustration.” I flipped my hand at Lexi. “Look at yourself, for example. You’re frustrated.”

  Lexi sat cross-legged on the sofa and stared off the way she always did when the wheels turned in her head.

  Avalee examined her scone. “All I can say is now I understand the email Nathan sent me today.”

  Lexi yanked her head around. “What? What email?”

  “Oh, you don’t want to hear.” Avalee pinched a piece off the pastry and popped it in her mouth.

  “What? What did the imbecile say?”

  “Before I tell you, I have to know. Did you send him a picture?” She peeked over her wine glass.

  “Well, yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “That explains it then.” She took a sip

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Avalee, would you spit it out already? Explains what?”

  Ava looked at the ceiling. “Well.” After a few moments she leveled her gaze at Lexi. “He said if you needed a volunteer to help you with his last suggestion, he’d be happy to oblige.”

  Okay, that time I did choke and then fell into another fit of laughter. Jema, bless her heart, tried to not laugh, but she couldn’t hold her giggles in any better than I could. Soon she erupted.

  Lexi’s face grew red. “Why, that arrogant ass.” She strode back to the wine. “And I’ll thank y’all to get a grip.”

  “He’s always been attracted to short red-heads.” Avalee stood. “And he is, after all, a celebrity.”

  Lexi frowned. “I’ve never heard of him.”

  I thought a moment. “Nathan Wolfe. The name does sound familiar.”

  Jema touched her finger to her chin. “Come to think of it. It does.”

  “Jema? Is your computer on?” Avalee asked.

  “Yeah.”

  We tromped to her office. Avalee sat in the chair and brought up the image of one distinguished, very handsome man. He looked to be our age, but his jawline was still defined and strong. More proof Mother Nature liked her sons best. Women get wrinkles and men get character lines. His blue eyes had a direct expression like a man who knows you are wrong but listens to you anyway before he corrects you. His thick bla
ck hair formed a widow’s peak high on his forehead, and gray tinged his temples. And I knew exactly who he was. “Oh my word. That’s the guy I see sometimes on CNN and FOX.”

  Jema stared at the image, her mouth opened then shut. She shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”

  Lexi’s face was crimson. “Avalee, I ought to ring your neck. Why didn’t you tell me he was a celebrity?”

  “Well, I guess I didn’t think about it. He’s just a friend to me.”

  “Girl, you ought to go after this one.” Jema lifted her glass to her lips. “He’s a looker. And probably rich. Marry him and take us all to Italy.”

  Lexi studied her fingernail. “Not interested.”

  “Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm. Give him my email address Avalee.” I turned to Lexi. “You are nuts, lady.”

  Lexi left the office and drawled over her shoulder, “He’s okay.”

  I followed her. “Okay?” I opened the Syrah while she attacked the truffles.

  “All right. All right.” Lexi slapped the table. “He’s freakin gorgeous, apparently a celebrity, AND I want to throw myself in front of a dump truck. Are you happy now?” She flopped down on the floor and put her face in her hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Now, hon, don’t be.” Avalee sat beside her. “I’ve known Nate for quite a while, and you are exactly what he needs. Someone who will stand up to him.”

  “Here, here!” Jema raised her fist in the air. “The South shall rise again.”

  “Yeah.” I reached down and pulled Lexi to her feet. “Go get ’em, sister!”

  Lexi looked from one of us to the other, her smile slowly built. “Well, I just might accept y’all’s challenge.” She lifted her glass. “To the South!”

  We all joined in. “To the South.”

  Jema clapped her hands. “Okay, girls, refresh your drinks and snacks.”

  Plates and goblets refilled, we snuggled down for the next whine. Jema looked around. “Who’s next?”

  “I don’t have anything except,” Avalee wrinkled her nose. “I’ve gained eight pounds. I feel like I’m on a runaway train and can’t stop.”

  “Well, I think you look a lot better.” I couldn’t help it. She did look better. However, my timing for spouting this opinion was terrible because all eyes were on me. I felt like a bug surrounded by chickens.

  Jema said, “What about you, Molly Kate?”

  “I may have a couple of things.”

  No one said a word. They just stared and waited. Talk about feeling put on the spot.

  “Well, for one thing I’m sick of hearing about those orange rolls at that magnolia place—Lexi.”

  Lexi spoke up. “Nice try, MK, but by the color in your face, I think that little whine was just a warm up. Now tell us what is really on your mind.”

  Oh for crying out loud. Might as well get it over with. I finished my wine first.

  “Okay, I’m gonna tell y’all something, but save me the hysterics, okay?”

  “Whoa,” said Lexi. “This is gonna be big.”

  I got up and refilled my glass.

  Jema put her hand to her breast. “Well, mercy sakes, Molly Kate. What on earth?”

  Avalee watched with a smug smile.

  After a deep breath, I said, “I’m interested—very interested—in a man. His name is Colin. And I met him on an…” I rushed on, “Internetdatingsite.”

  The room fell silent. In all my life, I’ve only been in one tornado. The sky took on a greenish cast, and the air was eerily still. Like there was no oxygen in the atmosphere. That’s the way it felt in the room. My friends looked at me like a tree full of owls.

  And then the tornado hit.

  Lexi leaned forward. “Are you crazy?” She vaulted to her feet. “You are out of your ever-lovin’ mind.” She glared at Jema and Avalee. “Someone get me a rope. We need to tie this girl up till she comes to her senses.”

  Thank goodness Avalee came to my defense. “Now settle down, Lex. It isn’t always so bad.”

  Lexi crossed her arms and sniffed. “Then you are crazy, too.”

  I noticed Jema sitting stone silent. Her happy glow had faded. What was that all about? Did she have a secret like mine? She stood and walked to the wine bucket. “Now, Lexi, let’s hear her out.”

  “All right, then.” Lexi plucked up another truffle. “Shoot.”

  “So, remember at our first Martini Monday I said I’d managed to meet some men? And y’all know those dating commercials? The ones that show all those twenty- and thirty-something kids looking for love? Well, I never paid much attention to them because I’m too old. But you know, I’m young enough for a relationship, too. Then, one night a commercial came on for people fifty and over. I don’t mind sayin, I paid attention to that one and thought, why not? So I checked it out. The free side had way too many men, so I signed up for the subscriber side. I figured the better guys would be there anyway.

  “I made up a username, and when they wanted an email address, I created a new email address with a fake name. I wrote my profile saying I was an insurance salesperson who lived in Tupelo. Then I had to write my interests, what I’m looking for, stuff like that. The site asked that I send a picture, so I found the absolute worst picture of myself that I had and sent it. I figured if that didn’t scare a prospective suitor away, I had a keeper.”

  Lexi smirked over her wine. “Or someone whose mug is worse than your picture.”

  Jema leaned forward. “And a keeper contacted you?”

  “Yep. And just so you girls know, I’m being careful. Usually you set up a place to meet. Before Colin, I followed protocol and all the guys were disaster dates. I couldn’t get out of the restaurant fast enough. And since I didn’t want to go through that again, I told Colin I wasn’t ready for a date just yet. I explained about my previous experiences and suggested we know each other through email first. He agreed to my terms. So for the past several months we’ve been writing back and forth.”

  Jema held a truffle to her mouth. “Several months? He’s patient. I’ll give him that. Where does he live?”

  “He said he has a farm in Sardis.”

  “Have y’all talked on the phone?” She bit into the candy.

  “No. I think we both feel more in control writing. That way if we say something stupid we can delete it.”

  Avalee eyed the last truffle, but then turned away. “So what’s there to whine about?”

  “Well, just when everything seemed to be going good, even talking about meeting, he suddenly quit writing. I haven’t heard from him in a week. What am I supposed to think about that? He doesn’t want to meet me? He hit the road? And the sad thing is...now I’m realizing how much I care.”

  “That sucks.” Lexi crawled to me and put her arm around my shoulders. “Honey, if he had any idea what he was missing, he’d be here right now.”

  That did it. I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. Jema and Avalee came over and joined in a group hug.

  Lord, I loved these girls.

  ****

  By the time I got home, I felt fabulous. Friends, wine, and freedom to whine left me all warm and peaceful. Also very tipsy. Gypsy jumped from behind a bush and followed me inside, all the while giving me a good meowing for not feeding her.

  “Too bad Gyps. Remember this before you run out the door next time.”

  She stared me down with urgent jade eyes and switched her tail. And since I speak fluent cat, I heard her message loud and clear, “Shut up and open the can.”

  I did as I was told.

  The second I had the can emptied she buried her face in the bowl. Must have been some night. You know? No human dominates me. I am usually in control. But my cat? Another story all together.

  Gypsy finished her supper in two shakes and strolled to her carpeted hidey-hole, slipped in, and began washing her paws. Good idea. Only I preferred a hot bubble bath.

  When I passed my office and saw my computer, a twinge of sadness stung me. I wondered if he’d written. If h
e hadn’t, my mood would nosedive. Maybe he had? Not knowing would drive me crazy, so either way my frame of mine was ruined. I sat and pulled up my email.

  He had!

  My breath caught in my throat and my heart began to pound with anticipation. But, then again, what if this was a dear Mary letter? I swallowed and opened it.

  Hi Mary,

  First off...please don’t be angry with me. The Internet service in the entire area went down and the cable company has been digging for days to figure out what happened. I’ve been worried about what you must have been thinking all this time. I couldn’t even go to a coffee shop or bookstore. They are affected, too. This morning I packed my laptop and drove to Senatobia. So here I am in a coffee shop finally able to write.

  This week of not hearing from you has made me more sure than ever that I want you in my life. I’m tired of waiting. Let’s meet this Saturday. You said October and that is the first weekend. You suggested Oxford? I’m cool with that. We could meet at Bouré on the square. I hear they have great shrimp po’boys. Around 11:00?

  Please say you will meet me.

  Love,

  Colin

  Giddy wouldn’t begin to describe how I felt while reading his email. I wanted to call the girls and tell them the good news. But it would have to wait. I hit reply and started typing.

  Dear Colin,

  Yes. It is time to meet. I’ve been perfectly miserable this week, and I’ve come to the same realization. I want you in my life, too. I just got home from an evening with my friends, and I tattled on you for not writing. They plied me with wine and sympathy, but nothing can compare to your email, dearest. My sleep will be sweet tonight. I can hardly wait until Saturday.

  Until then.

  Your Mary

  I hit send, sighed, and left to run a hot bath.

  At four o’clock the next morning my eyes flew open. Oh, Lord. What did I do? Foggy memories of what I wrote Colin the night before drove me from my warm bed and into the dark office. I stumbled to the computer and turned it on. The stupid thing took what seemed to be hours to load. I tapped my finger on the desk. Come on, come on.

  Finally my emails popped up and I saw Colin’s reply. All it said was, Fantastic! It’s a date. Colin.