“She does. She’s read our tax returns,” Cheryl had said.
“Work with me, will you?” Lexus replied, perusing the Royal Doulton website.
“Get the fancy beakers and teacups.”
“Thank you for your support,” Lexus said, hitting the shopping cart icon.
Brenda Lee broke into Cheryl’s ruminations on Royal Doulton china by saying, “Well, it appears Pen is satisfied with her situation, which pleases me, because obviously we want our wards to find joy and happiness as well as peace of mind.”
“Now, I’ve taken the tour and feel the apartment is more than safe,” she said and coughed a little. “Maybe a little too safe. I think you can remove the safety locks on the cupboards. The outlet caps are still a good idea—they keep the electrical circuits dust free. Pen has shown me the fire extinguishers. I do have one suggestion. It’s not a requirement, but I have firefighter friends and they are adamant about this.”
Lexus was on the edge of her seat, eyes wide. She was handling it well, Cheryl thought. Lexus hated to be caught unawares because she thought she should think of everything. Sometimes when Lexus was preparing for one of her seminars she would chant in her sleep, “think, think, think.” It was disconcerting.
They all waited for Brenda Lee, who was enjoying wringing the moment for its dramatic effect. Their eyes were glued to her face. It was like they were the Beatles waiting for some transcendental info from the Maharishi.
“You really should unplug the toaster.”
Lexus smiled and tried not to look deflated. “Oh, I had never thought of that.”
“Yes, they can start fires of their own accord.”
Cheryl envisioned self-immolating toasters. She had a hard time. “I’ll go unplug it right this minute. You just never know.”
Brenda Lee nodded her agreement because her mouth was full of Lorna Doones.
“I’ll help,” Pen said.
Lexus shot them a look. It was evident that she viewed their leaving her alone with Brenda Lee as an act of mutiny. “We’ll be waiting.”
In the kitchen after they’d unplugged the toaster, Pen said, “How do you think it’s going?”
“If we can keep Lexus from stress-induced cardiac arrest, it’s going to be all right.”
“I told her you all were healthy,” Pen said.
“We are. It’s just a saying. Lexus made both of us have a heart scan, as well as bone density, blood work, etc.”
“Whew. I already have one dead parent,” Pen said.
Cheryl nodded. “We best go back.”
“As I was telling you, I’ve scaled down my workload so I will be here when Pen is home. I don’t abide by latchkey children, well, that is to say, not if it can be avoided. I know in some financial situations one parent being home is not feasible, but I want to be here for Pen, and, as you know, Cheryl is a well-paid physician, so my working less will not have any great impact on our financial situation, so no worries there…”
That was a Virginia Woolfian sentence, Cheryl thought. It might have gone on forever had Brenda Lee not stopped her.
“May I have another Lorna Doone?” she asked, holding her plate out.
Lexus passed her the plate.
The door crashed opened, and Vibro and Marlowe came rushing in. Marlowe knew how to open doors. At least Vibro was dressed in exercise clothes, black Lycra and a matching hoodie, and not one of her getups, thought Cheryl. They didn’t need a Louis the XIV impersonator right now. Vibro looked a little Goth, but overall not bad, at least not for Vibro.
“He wanted to come home. I took him for a walk and then I was going to get him a snack and water at my place, but he heard voices and, well, here we are.” Vibro looked as mortified as Lexus. “I didn’t know he could open doors.”
Cheryl unclipped his lead. Marlowe sat in front of Brenda Lee. They’d had Vibro dog-sit because Lexus wasn’t sure if a drooling bulldog, no matter how cute, would be acceptable to a social worker. Lexus didn’t want to chance it. What she hadn’t figured on was that Marlowe was a determined guard dog, which was admirable in most situations. He appeared to be studying Brenda Lee’s green hair. Cheryl hoped he didn’t mistake her for plant life and pee on her leg.
“Oh, my goodness. I simply adore English bulldogs,” Brenda Lee said, patting his head. Marlowe kept staring at her intently. “Does he want a treat or something?”
They all looked at each other. Lexus sighed. “He was a rescue dog. His previous owner was a psychiatrist. You know how most people teach their dogs to relax around strangers by saying ‘friend’? Marlowe responds to ‘Freud.’” Lexus sighed again. “‘Freud.’”
Marlowe rolled on his back and put his paws on his chest.
Brenda Lee clapped her hands in delight. “That’s hilarious! I love it.”
Vibro dug in her pocket and handed Brenda Lee a dog biscuit. She presented it to Marlowe, who was now sitting up and looking expectantly at her. He took it from her and went to the far corner of the living room and ate it in several pieces.
“He’s a very particular eater,” Lexus said.
“He’s well-mannered,” Brenda Lee said. “And how delightful for Penelope, I mean Pen, to have a dog. I think it’s important to foster the love of animals. It rounds out a household.”
“Marlowe loves Pen. He’s very protective,” Lexus said.
As if on cue, Marlowe moved to Pen and put his head on her lap. She scratched behind his ears and he was in doggy heaven.
“Brenda Lee, this is our friend…” Cheryl was going to say “Vibro” when she got cut off.
“Victoria, my name is Victoria, and it’s very nice to meet you,” Vibro said, thrusting her hand out.
Brenda Lee shook it.
“I live upstairs,” Vibro said.
“Yes, Victoria is one of our neighbors. She’s been a great help with acclimating Pen and making her feel welcome,” Cheryl said.
“I love your hair. How did you get it so vibrant?” Vibro asked.
“It requires that your follicles be completely stripped of any color first,” Brenda Lee explained. She and Vibro discussed the ensuing process.
Cheryl and Pen sat back and stared at each other. “It’ll be over soon,” Cheryl said, taking Pen’s hand.
“I’ll get more cookies,” Lexus said, popping up and making for the kitchen.
After the hair discussion, Brenda Lee said, as if it just dawned on her, “Were you at the new club in the warehouse district?”
Vibro looked at Cheryl stricken. “I don’t go out much,” Vibro said.
“It was a couple weeks ago. I never forget a face. You were dressed funny—like for a seventies party and there was some problem with your girlfriend…” Brenda Lee would have gone on exposing Vibro to further shame had she not been interrupted.
Lexus was just entering the living room with the cookies. She dropped the plate with the Lorna Doones—a Royal Doulton plate, no less—and it crashed to the floor and broke into four neat pieces. Cheryl wondered if that was a characteristic of expensive china—it didn’t break into a million pieces.
Cheryl leapt up and picked up the pieces, and Marlowe ate as many of the dropped cookies as he could before Pen shooed him away.
“You’ll get sick if you eat too many, Marlowe,” Pen said.
“Oh, dear,” Brenda Lee said. “Is everyone all right?”
Cheryl patted Lexus’s shoulder. “We can probably glue the plate.”
“It’s not that,” Lexus said. She was on the verge of tears.
“Oh, that,” Brenda Lee said. She seemed to have a clear view of the situation.
Cheryl and Pen glanced at each other. Cheryl shrugged. She had no idea what was going on.
“I’m gay. You didn’t know that? I thought Agnes told you. They send me for the gay couples because my sense of judgment is not as skewed as those other people. And it usually puts people more at ease if they know that I’m not some religious right Anita Bryant type. It’s easier on everyone.”<
br />
Cheryl vaguely remembered Agnes saying something about sending a gay-friendly social worker, but it had completely slipped her mind.
Lexus glared at Cheryl. “Did you know?”
“I forgot.”
“You forgot,” Lexus said frostily. “You forgot that I might be more at ease by having a gay social worker, one of our own people who might be more understanding and I wouldn’t be so stressed out. You forgot.”
Brenda Lee turned to Vibro and began telling her about her adventures at the club while Pen sidled up to Lexus and pinched her.
“Ouch! What did you do that for?” Lexus said, still glaring at Cheryl, who was doing her best to look apologetic.
“You’re supposed to look like a happy couple,” Pen hissed.
Lexus opened her mouth in the shape of a perfect “O” and put her arm around Cheryl and smiled at her.
Vibro and Brenda Lee were setting up a lunch. “Would you mind if I bring my friend Sparky? She just broke up with her partner too.”
“Oh, of course not. I think it’s best if us Rebounders stick together. It’s a pity our ex-partners couldn’t do the same. I think everyone would have a better sense of closure,” Brenda Lee said.
Vibro had that light bulb-turning-on-above-her head look. “That is a fabulous idea. Let’s discuss it over lunch. Okay, here’s my cell. It was so nice to meet you.” She gave Brenda Lee a big hug and left.
Cheryl, Pen and Lexus looked at Brenda Lee, who appeared to be delighted at having made a new friend. “What a nice woman. I can hardly wait to talk to her more. Pen, I want you to know that you are surrounded by so much love it’s like the very building is beating with it.”
Cheryl imagined 33 Moon Street pulsing like a human heart, its brick walls contracting and expanding, the ivy-like veins wrapped around it. Brenda Lee broke the spell.
“I think you’re going to be very happy here, and I will send in the paperwork ASAP. How does that sound?”
“Fabulous, absolutely fabulous!” Lexus said, jumping up and down and flapping her hands. Not the most dignified gesture for an approved parent, but she didn’t seem to care. Cheryl had never seen her look so happy.
Pen smiled up at Cheryl. She buried her face in Cheryl’s stomach. She heard a muffled, “I love you.” And Cheryl realized that she’d never been happier either.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Where There’s Fire
This was absurd. Sparky could not believe Vibro had talked her into it—a speed closure date, whatever that was. She was pretty certain the term “speed closure” didn’t exist in any reputable dictionary. There was that absurd thing where people talked to potential dates for five minutes and then switched tables and interviewed more potential dates, of course. But the idea of one set of ex-girlfriends sitting at one table and the others at another with a bar bouncer serving as the mediator was absurd. Like anyone was going to get sassy with a two-hundred-pound professional female bodybuilder standing right there. Granted Cindy, the bouncer, was as sweet as they came, but not everyone who was attending knew that.
Sparky couldn’t imagine being that butch and having a name like Cindy. It should be something like C-Woman or Cena, or C-Me. Sparky was still contemplating potential names for her when Vibro returned from the bathroom. Their coffee hadn’t even arrived and already she’d gone three times.
“Sorry, that should do it,” Vibro said.
“Did you drink a lot of water before we came?” Sparky asked.
“No, it’s my spastic colon. It acts up with I get nervous.” She played with the half-and-half containers on the table.
“You poop when you get nervous?” Sparky said, horrified by this condition.
“Crudely put, but yes. Imagine what that’s going to be like when I’m in the rest home. The nurses’ aides will call me ‘The Nervous Shitter.’”
“It’ll be something to look forward to,” Sparky said. “I’d still be your roommate—even if you were a little stinky.”
Vibro rolled her eyes. “Thanks for your support.”
Brenda Lee arrived. She was dressed to the nines in a silk pantsuit of lemon yellow with black high heels. She had a necklace of polished amethyst. If she’d been wearing a hat with fruit all over it, she would’ve made a perfect Carmen Miranda.
“I got your Imodium. I hope I’m in time. It was a good thing you called when you did. I was just passing a Walgreens.”
Sparky wasn’t certain if Brenda Lee meant in time for the lunch or if she were referring to getting there before Vibro shit her pants. It must have been the latter because Vibro snatched at the bottle, poured out five tablets and swallowed them in one swoop without the benefit of liquid.
“I think you’re only supposed to take two,” Brenda Lee said.
“Now you won’t shit for a week,” Sparky added.
“At the moment, I’m only interested in getting through the next hour. I’ll deal with the constipation later,” Vibro said, easing back in her chair.
“You look really nice,” Sparky said to Brenda Lee.
“Thanks, I want Tammy to know what she’s missing out on.”
She’s missing out on a lot of simulated fruit, Sparky thought unkindly. She mentally reprimanded herself. Vibro, on the other hand, looked stunning. She’d gone for her Catholic schoolgirl look with a short plaid skirt, tapered white shirt and black leather go-go boots. Her hair was done up in a French braid. Sparky, on the other hand, was wearing a ball cap, white T-shirt and chinos. She did not want Wesson to think she was missing out on anything. That would only make things worse.
“Here they come,” Brenda Lee whispered.
“How’d they manage the en masse thing?” Sparky asked.
“I told them to allow an extra five minutes to introduce themselves and arrive together so that no one would be sitting at the table alone,” Brenda Lee said.
“Brilliant idea,” Vibro said.
Jennifer had a new hairstyle, Sparky noted. It was purple and spiked into an oversized faux hawk. Sparky had never seen one that tall. It made Jennifer look like an iguana. Vibro’s head swung around. “What the fuck?”
Brenda Lee scolded Vibro in a hiss. “No bad stuff, remember?”
“I’m just glad I don’t have to wake up to that every morning. It’d scare me shitless.”
“Which wouldn’t be a good thing in your case,” Sparky said.
“Smart-ass,” Vibro said.
“You love it.”
“I do.”
“Wesson looks nice,” Vibro said.
Sparky thought Vibro should’ve smirked when she said it, but she didn’t. Wesson was a good-looking woman, tall, lithe, with blond hair in a curly swirl around her head. And with those green eyes she could mesmerize.
She had mesmerized Sparky once. After the day she spent hiding out in the bookstore and listening, Sparky had given their relationship a thorough going-over. Wesson was right. Nine years was a long time. They’d met at college in an English Literature of the 1900s class during Sparky’s last year of college. Sparky was majoring in business administration but took a minor in English because, as her father put it, life wasn’t all about the electrical business. They found themselves in three of the same classes. Sparky didn’t find out until later that Wesson had a friend in registration who kept her abreast of Sparky’s class choices. At the end of spring semester, Wesson asked her out for coffee. Things had progressed from there.
After college, Wesson had taken a job at an ad agency and started her career writing copy for tampons, cat litter, toilet cleaner and scouring pads. “That’s what a degree in English will get you,” Wesson had said bitterly.
Sparky supposed that was when the “downward spiral” started. Wesson hated her job. Sparky liked hers. She’d guessed that being an electrician was in her genes and she took to it quite happily. Wesson drank more and didn’t do anything but be miserable about work. Eventually, they didn’t play softball anymore. They didn’t see their friends. They didn’t lay in
bed on Sunday morning and read book reviews and discuss them. They didn’t make love anymore. She hadn’t realized at the time that when the lovemaking had stopped the bonding feeling that they were a twosome had ended with it. If she ever did have another relationship she would make sure that didn’t happen again. If the “downward spiral” even poked its head in the door, she’d do something about it.
She wondered, though, if their trouble was all related to Wesson hating her job. She could have quit. They’d have gotten by until she found something she liked doing even if it did pay less. What was money if you couldn’t stand doing the work that supplied it? But whenever she had brought up finding a new job, Wesson sighed and shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t want to teach at some cowpoke college in the middle of nowhere. I don’t want to get paid about ten cents an hour to copyedit what passes for lit today. I don’t want to write instructional manuals. I should have been smart and studied something lucrative like the mating habits of butterflies. Or how about the food storage methods of fire ants?” Sparky had given up.
Now, however, Wesson was looking good—and possibly a little less hateful toward her. She gave Sparky a tight smile. Wesson did have a nice smile. She was beautiful when she laughed. It had been ages since Wesson had laughed. She used to think Sparky was funny. That had stopped about the same time the lovemaking stopped.
She glanced at Vibro, who was glaring at Jennifer. Jennifer was a fool to treat someone as funny and sexy and smart as Vibro so badly.
Brenda Lee’s ex-girlfriend, Tammy, looked so normal it was scary. She was wearing tan Dockers, a blue oxford button-down shirt and penny loafers with a shiny penny stuck in each shoe. She had short red hair and wore round spectacles. Sparky wondered if Brenda Lee had looked like this before she started dressing like a character out of Alice in Wonderland. Had they been one of those couples that dressed alike until Brenda Lee veered off into green hair and boxy suits?
The three ex-girlfriends took a table nearby. Sparky watched as they checked each other out while they got settled.
Straightening her shoulders, Brenda Lee said, “Let’s order coffee and then we’ll begin with the first round.”
Love Over Moon Street Page 25
