Oh feck, Markie shifted for the umpteenth time in his seat. Maybe it would help if he heard her voice. Yeah, yeah, that way he could decipher where Serena was sitting on the emotional scale. A low-pitched voice would be a good thing, and it would be bad news the higher it got. Markie reached for the phone.
“Who are you calling?” Rick asked, “Because if its pizza, I want mine pan style super supreme.”
“Sure, super supreme,” he said, tapping in Tabitha’s number. His only confidence came from knowing she didn’t have caller ID. “Keep your voice down, I can’t hear the dial tone for crap.”
Ring, ring…ring, ring. After a dozen or so such rings with no interruption, the line finally flicked to message bank. “Hello,” Tabitha’s voice shrilled alongside some other high-pitched party princess. Christ, it was Serena! And her voice was high, as high as a kite.
T: “Unfortunately we girls aren’t available at the moment.”
S: “No, we’re too busy out painting the town red.” (Insert lots of laughter)
T: “But if you’d like to a message…”
S: “We’ll return your call when and if we feel like it.”(More mocking laughter included here)
Markie slammed it down before it got to the “beep, beep, beep” part of things. Bloody hell; make that a double bloody hell! This was not what he expected, not at all. Serena was supposed to be in, distressed but coping, persevering but with a bit of dignity still intact.
“No pizza?” Rick inquired.
“Nup, I just lost my appetite.”
How much longer was it until the house swap again?
“So did you kiss him?” Tabitha wanted to know.
“If I said no would you believe me?”
“Absolutely not,” Tabitha shook her head. “You look like a woman who has just rolled out of bed.”
“Well,” Serena smiled, dumping her dirty blush dress and intimates into the washing machine and switching it onto the delicate rinse. It was hard keeping the excitement in, “All I’m gonna say is that we didn’t have sex. At least not yet.”
“Bullcrap!” Tabitha screamed, attacking Serena with both arms. “I’ve been waiting up for you all night, as if you aren’t going to tell me every sordid detail, recounted step by step, now, right now in the kitchen. I even got us McDonalds Hotcakes specifically for the occasion.”
So she had. The breakfast table - if you could call it that, given that it reached Serena’s ankles - had been laid out with red and white gingham of Pizza Hut fame. On top there were the two Styrofoam boxes sitting, smelling absolutely delicious, and a jug of freshly poured out of the carton orange juice. Serena took her place on the pink cushion, Tabitha on the purple.
“Did you get extra syrup?”
“I did, I did.” Two small satchels came flying her way. “So tell me, he took you to the art gallery and then what?”
That’s right; Serena had already texted Tabitha the surprise location of her date during a quick trip to the bathroom.
“Well, after discovering Jasper is representing the US in Vienna in two months time, he took me to this nearby fish shop where we got like a kilo of king prawns, oysters and hot chips. You know the type they wrap in newspaper and we ate it all up at the bay, right underneath the stars. It was very romantic.”
“And?” Tabitha titled her head forward. “I think I need more information here. All I see is greasy fingers and smelly breath.”
“Oh it was anything but. You see, we ended up washing our hands in the sea and before we knew it, one splash led to another and we were soaked and swimming in our underwear.”
“So how did this not lead to sex?” Tabitha asked dumbfounded. Less clothes, the quicker the contact between sexual organs was her experience.
“Sheer and utter control, I guess,” Serena shrugged. “Plus it was freezing cold.”
Maybe under different circumstances, the inevitable would’ve transpired. But by the time they emerged from the icy water, their clothes lay in a wet heap in the sand and their numb skin was covered with a sticky seawater film. Maybe if they had ignored the outdoor shower stalls only fifteen meters away, they would have ended back at his C-Lounge apartment bathing together. Except it didn’t work out that way; he acted like a perfect gentleman.
“You kissed him though? Tell me you at least had the decency to stick your tongue down his throat.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t disappoint you.”
Serena sighed at the memory. One moment, she was frolicking in the sea and the next Jasper had her in his strong arms, running across the beach like Superman. Serena had her own arms wrapped around his neck, clinging on for their dear life and when they reached the showers, she half-expected him to dump her on the ground. That was what Markie would’ve done. He would’ve deposited Serena under one showerhead and gotten his own body under another.
“Here,” Jasper had said instead, “watch me demonstrate some super human strength.” With one arm he held tight onto her body, still elevated mid-air while using the other to twist on the tap. Seconds later chilled water came gushing out of the pinprick holes, turning Serena’s nipples hard and all the while he never let her go.
“I don’t think this is exactly the way to get clean,” she remarked, clenching her eyes shut. She was enjoying the embrace, not least because his body heat was saving her from pneumonia. But she felt the need to inject some small talk anyway. Just in case Jasper had reservations, in case after tonight he still thought of her as nothing more than a friend.
It was as her eyes were closed that Serena felt Jasper’s hot lips brush against hers. In the car, later, he’d tell her he couldn’t help himself: the sight of her all wet and vulnerable-looking struck some chord within him. Her lips of course accepted his immediately, opening themselves up like a rosebud on a sweet spring’s day. Ah, there was nothing more beautiful than it in the world, passionate kisses and probing tongues.
If it weren’t for the tut-tutting from parents passing by with their bird-feeding bound children, who knows how long they would have stay intertwined. Probably forever, such was their stupor. Eventually though Jasper lowered Serena gently onto the ground and asked her to wait there. He ran off back to the spot where all their belongings were dumped and looked severely disturbed to find Serena shivering like an ice-cube upon return.
“I better take you home,” he said, wrapping a dry jumper around her shoulders. He probably thought that to take her anywhere else would be inconsiderate. And he was right. At times like this, a girl needed her own shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and things. Serena hadn’t thought to bring any of these along with her on this date. Next time, she thought as he dropped her off, she’d have to remember her essentials.
“Meaning there will be a next time…” Tabitha hinted suggestively.
“Definitely,” Serena sighed, cutting another large chunk of pancake and stuffing it into her mouth. “It’s as if I’m falling in love all over again.”
“With Jasper?”
“Well certainly not Captain Underpants…”
At this point, maybe warning bells should’ve been set off to signal a quandary. Because when it came to Markie, it was like…well, like Markie who?
The quickest way to wipe out an old memory was to start creating new ones.
Chapter 13
Now it wasn’t often that Serena felt something with utmost certainty.
Usually she was open to and prepared for changes in the wind. Because anything can happen, right? Nothing is set in stone. A plane may crash, a train may break down or one might catch chicken pox off a little boy who picks his scabs and touches fruit in the grocery store. Life was about as predictable as guessing the latest celebrity couple to go down in divorce.
That being said, if Serena had a million dollars or even if she didn’t, she would put all her money, down to the last penny, on a bet that Jasper Mason would be calling her again. He would, he had to. Serena had seen it in his eyes, as he walked her to the door that night; when t
hey separated it was like trying to tear opposing poles of two gigantic magnets apart – almost impossible.
Conservatively speaking, Serena was giving him until Monday, Tuesday at the latest but then Jasper surprised her with a late Sunday evening call. Tabitha raised her eyebrows as her best friend scurried off to the kitchen and slid the door shut behind. What was going on? Firstly a call on Sunday when no one in their right mind makes calls then except overbearing mothers. Secondly, taking the phone into the kitchen - wasn’t that a bit juvenile? As if one had something to hide, a big bad secret, when in fact every already knew your pockets were full with stolen sweets?
“Hello?” Serena sighed, leaning against the door and sliding until her bottom hit the tiles. It had been a while since she’d talked to someone from ground zero position and the effect was amazing. Tabitha’s small cramped kitchen which was filled with fat Buddha cookie jars, herb concoctions and onion ropes suddenly seemed large, almost spacious.
“Hey Serena, its Jasper. I just thought I’d call to see if you were okay, that the late night swim didn’t leave you with pneumonia.”
Gosh it must be the sign - a boy surely likes a girl when he is super concerned about their well being!
“Oh I’m fine,” Serena replied. “If anything the swim corrupted me.”
“Corrupted you?” Jasper guffawed. She could tell he was intrigued by the hint of corruption. “In what way?”
“If anything it has made me want to be spontaneous way more often. Let’s just say I haven’t gone for an evening swim since I was at least sixteen.”
“Does that mean if I invited you for a day of abseiling next weekend you’d be up for it?”
“Are you serious? Yes, definitely yes,” Serena squealed, before she had time to flick through her imaginary diary. Then came the horror. Oh Lord Saturday was ages away, a millennium in new relationship years. She couldn’t wait that long. With every day, every second that passed, another chunk of their intimacy was being chipped off. At this rate they’d be strangers by the time they met again.
“How about dinner tomorrow night then?” Jasper asked, saving Serena from her silent meltdown, “so we can go through the safety measures first.”
“Yes, safety measures are vital,” Serena nodded. “Definitely.”
She agreed to meet him at seven o’clock, his apartment, and slammed down the phone before she could ask if any naked girls would be answering his door. She was a full-grown remember now, there was no need to stoop to that level.
“Ahhhh!” Serena screamed, racing through the house, “I’m going on another date, I’m going on another date! What do I wear? What the hell do I wear?” By this time she was standing over her suitcase, throwing dress after dress over her shoulder. “Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap,” she labeled each one before falling back onto the futon. “I have nothing, I’m twenty eight and in all this time I still haven’t acquired the perfect fail-proof seduction dress.”
“What about the pink dress?” Tabitha smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed. “It brought you luck on Saturday night.”
Serena frowned. “You’re kidding right? You know full well Jasper won’t be seeing that dress on my body for at least another three months.”
According to Tabitha that was the current requisite outfit rotation cycle. To appear in something twice any sooner than that would be an insult to her panache.
“Hang on, what about Markie? Isn’t that who you will be with in three months time?”
Serena looked up to see Tabitha staring back down with a devilish smile. “Huh?”
It was just like Tabitha to bring up ludicrous things whilst Serena was in her match and patch mode. In her head, she had already concocted a wonderfully elaborate plan. She had this fabulous gold lame evening dress which she’d only ever worn once and a black cashmere sweater. What she was thinking was she’d chop the dress off to knee length and find a long black satin ribbon to wrap around her waist, because together the two would look ultra Parisian.
“Serena, Markie is your boyfriend.”
“Oh right, yes I guess he is. Or at least he was until he decided to dump me.”
Tabitha was none impressed by this remark. One minute Serena was crying like a baby over Markie, heaving that he was one she was supposed to marry, have babies with and yadda, yadda, yadda. Then with a click of one artist’s finger, five long years spiral down the drain. It was sickening. Tabitha wasn’t even sure about this Jasper character. Sure he seemed nice enough and he was the typical Mr. Sensitive back in university but a girl should never forget the bucket load of tears she cried once upon a time. There are some things one doesn’t ever forgive.
“Serena,” Tabitha said, pulling a pair of scissors from the drawer and passing them to her. Scissors had to be more effective than teeth when tearing up clothes. “Can I ask you a personal question, honey?”
“Personal? Sure, go ahead,” Serena replied, ripping into the gold dress with the blade. Personal from Tabitha usually meant she wanted to know the last time Serena had a bowel movement, passed wind or masturbated.
“Will you answer it honestly?”
“Of course I will,” Serena huffed insulted by the insinuation she might lie. She never, ever lied; if anything she just omitted a few details or used wishy washy words as a disguise but lie -never.
“Okay then answer me this. You’re about to walk down the aisle and two men are standing there, both dying to have you as their bride. Who do you choose, Markie or Jasper?”
“Huh?” Serena replied, for the trillionth time since losing her mind on the phone with Jasper.
The question stumped her because it wasn’t what she was expecting. Markie or Jasper, how could she choose between the two? It was like comparing vanilla slices with chocolate donuts; she loved them both - in different ways, of course. One was chocolate: the dependable aphrodisiac, the one she could pick up at the local bakery on her way to work. The other was vanilla: a delicacy she discovered later in life, one she had to drive at least thirty minutes to acquire but it was irresistible and worth it nonetheless. Serena would have driven hours just to buy those addictive vanilla slices (complete with passion fruit seeds on top) if she had to.
“Can I have them both?” she squinted, still undecided. “Is that an option?”
“I’m afraid it’s not,” Tabitha snapped back, “and quite frankly I’m shocked that the answer didn’t come to you after one millisecond. That means someone definitely has you under their wrap.”
Tabitha glared at Serena with pity. Like you poor, poor girl, you’ve been hypnotized.
“If you’re talking about Jasper then think again,” Serena said. “If anything I have him under my trance.”
Yep, that’s right, she repeated to herself. Jasper was hers for the taking. And she wouldn’t even be taking him if Markie wasn’t interested anymore.
“Well that’s just great,” grumbled Tabitha, unaware of Serena’s inner warbling. “It’s like the blind leading the bloody blind.”
On Monday morning Markie decided there mustn't be a God. There could not be, no, no way. And just like that a decade of good Catholic school training was flushed down the drain.
Not that Markie was ever a devout Catholic or anything but hitherto he had believed in prayer. There was something comforting about lying in bed at night, fingers clasped and focusing for just a little bit on goodwill and peace. He'd wish for things like a long pain-free life for his parents, love and luck for himself and friends and the occasional big-paying client. But if God were listening, truly listening to him all this time, he'd have given Lola balls and a beard by now - but he hadn't. So there, it was time to call in the big guns. No more Mister Nice Guy.
If anything Lola was looking more and more delectable every day. Before, when he was with Serena, Markie had been fairly immune to the powers of a beautiful girl. While other men in the office fetched papers and pulled out chairs, he found he could look at the jiggling breasts and a wiggling small pert bum,
without crumbling to pieces. Then again, he also his dignity back then and a girlfriend so there wasn't any need to resort to the sad practices of a desperate man.
"Join the club," Rick grinned, tipping his daily measure of espresso to the sky. Markie himself had a triple dosage in his hands, despite warnings it might be lethal. "My advice is to just nail her and get the desire out of your system."
"Simple as that?" Markie lamented, tilting his head to the side. It sounded as simple as making a fancy five course meal for a wedding party. He tried to see whether Lola was at her desk but with the blinds in place, it was difficult to make out if she was there or out seducing other members of the staff. "Let me guess, you want me to do it right here on this table tonight?"
"Tonight?" Rick frowned, "I don't know, I don't think I have time today to duck out and get the handy cam."
Handy cam, of course. Markie would need proof for later on in life, to show his sons that once upon a time their pa had indeed been a man. There would be no guilt about it either because unlike daughters who squirm at the thought of their parents kissing somebody else, sons would understand. They knew what notions ran through the male mind. Like now with Lola, there was no valid reason anymore to put off taking her to bed, because in Markie's head, he had already screwed her a thousand times. He'd imagined putting his lips to her breasts, her mouth to his nether regions and those imaginings were the worst crime. Anything else was auxiliary.
Then again all men instinctively visualize women naked and how they'd be in the sack so maybe Markie's biggest crime was being born male. It didn't matter whether a girl was plump or thin, stunning or less than attractive; every single one got put through this initial exam. To quote Rick: "in five minutes I've already undressed her with my eyes; in ten I've taken her to bed." Women were different in this respect. They were probably busy visualizing things like husband potential and the width of his wallet.
The Numbers Game Page 13
