A Half Dozen Fools

by Susana Falcon

  When they came apart, Keb looked at her.

  "Talk about timing?" He laughed. "Here, after all these months, you're game to see me and now I'm leaving town."

  "How long will you be gone? I mean, it's not forever, is it? You still have family here, right?"

  "I'll be consumed, out there, for some time. I don't know when I'll be back. This is big for me. It's a big deal. I'll be living, eating and breathing it, 'til post-production's finished. And I can't wait! It's a dream project."

  "Your dream come true! I'm happy for you, Keb. But we'll stay in touch, right? I mean, I'd hate to lose you after this."

  "Of course we'll stay in touch! Can you--I mean, it might take some more patience, though, you know? I've got to steer this thing in the right direction before I can wine and dine you."

  "Oh, don't worry about that. I understand. Hey, if I haven't learned patience by now I'm in big trouble, right? Only, I don't want to lose you, Keb. Not now."

  "You're not going to lose me, Elyse."

  "People forget... Will you take my calls, out there?"

  "Girl, of course I will! You'll have to come out for a visit. Ever been out to LA, before?"

  "Once, when I was a kid. I visited an aunt. Went to Disneyland."

  "You'll have to come out again. See how you like it. If you want. When you want...you do want to?"

  "Oh, yes! Of course I do."

  "I'm gonna miss you, Elyse."

  "I'll miss you, too, Keb."

  He slid his arm around her waist and they walked on.

  The closeness of his body comforted her and she felt safe. For the first time in what seemed an eternity, she felt safe around a man. She basked in the comfort of that feeling as thousands of petals danced on zesty winds against the backdrop of a crystalline sky.

  Chapter 16

  Elyse, Sharmaine, and Dylan heaped the big bags they lugged around the city each day onto the counters before the uniformed attendants on duty. Each bag was then tucked inside its own numbered nook in the mesh network that stored visitors' belongings, and its matching chip conferred to each of them.

  "Whew," Elyse said, "glad to get rid of that extra pair of shoes. I've got a set of brushes in there, too. Can't stand the ones they keep at the studio."

  Dylan chuckled. "I always keep my personal favorites on me, too, in my knapsack. It's a good thing I can store my big box on set though. That thing weighs a ton."

  "I've got you both beat," Shar said brightly. "Three pairs of dance shoes, tights, a leotard, sweater, and sweats from rehearsal all day."

  "Skank!" Dylan said. "That must smell nice."

  Shar shot him a condescending look. "Don't worry, O Squeamish One. I stuffed the sweats in plastic until I can wash them out at home."

  Elyse and her buddies left the coat check room and headed for the ticket booth at the foot of the great staircase. While navigating the crowd, Elyse drank in the sight of gigantic, pink lilies and peonies in huge vases displayed on the information desk and in wall niches throughout the enormous lobby. The exuberant flowers drew her eye higher, to the glimmering marble arches and columns of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

  The trio paid their way and moved among the throng ascending the staircase.

  "You know, every Sunday in France, all the museums are open free of charge to the public," Elyse commented.

  "Today's Wednesday," Dylan said.

  "Duh! I'm just saying."

  "Yes, but have you ever gone to the Louvre on a Sunday?" Shar asked. "It's a total cluster fuck. I'd rather pay and go on an off-day, thank you very much."

  Dylan nudged his chin. "It's pretty busy here, actually, considering it's nighttime."

  Elyse surveyed the crowd. "At least it's not high season."

  "Which is why we're here in May," Shar added, "before the summer rush."

  They made their way up the staircase at a steady clip, deftly maneuvering past lingering tourists with eyes all around, moving at a snail's pace.

  "I'm so glad we came here, you guys," Elyse said. "I love chamber music."

  "I haven't been in a while," Dylan said. "It'll be fun to hang out with the Chinese art on this floor."

  "Last time I was here was for that photo exhibit," Shar added. "Remember, Elyse? That historic architecture in New York-thing."

  "Right," Elyse said, "with Henry a few weeks back."

  "Yeah," Shar said drily. "Jerry felt really bad about that, you know."

  At the top of the stairs they crossed the second floor landing.

  "I don't blame Jerry for his friend's bad behavior," Elyse said amicably. "How would he know Henry's so pervy? He's never been out on a date with him."

  Dylan chimed in, "Not that we know of anyway!"

  "Oh, I can pretty much guarantee he's never dated Henry Tilden before," Shar said in a sultry voice. "I am, after all, the apple of his eye."

  Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Just joking, love."

  Shar made a teasing little face at him then looked at Elyse.

  "Anyway, Jerry's not hanging out with Henry much these days."

  "Hope I didn't cause bad blood between two old friends."

  "Don't worry about it," Shar added. "Jerry never liked him much to begin with. They just did one deal together a while back."

  Dylan scoped out the balcony before them. "Okay, ladies. Where are we sitting? Right side or left?"

  The atrium at the center opened over the lobby directly below. On a short podium at the opposite end from where the three friends stood, a chamber ensemble had gathered. White, linen-covered tables were set up in front of it, as well as down the right and left sides of the landing. Tiny globes of light on each table added ambiance, while a full bar in the far right corner provided libation. A black-clad bartender was already mixing drinks for devotees seated at the tables.

  "How close do we want to be?" Elyse asked. "Are we going to blab, or listen to the music?"

  "Both, probably" Shar answered. "We can say we're going to be good and just listen, but there's no shutting us up once we start."

  Dylan pointed to a table. "That one looks perfect--not too far from the music and not too close."

  "But close enough to the bar," Shar added.

  Dylan chuckled. "Ah, you caught that."

  Elyse took the first step. "Onward, soldiers."

  * * * *

  By the time their drinks arrived, the chamber ensemble was well into Hayden's, "Sunrise Quartet." Elyse and Shar clinked their wineglasses with Dylan's martini and they all sipped. Then they resumed the conversation from where they'd left off.

  "So," Shar asked in a quiet voice, "it turns out this copy guy is a director?"

  Elyse nodded with a crooked smile. "Crazy, right?"

  Shar sat back in her chair and stared at her friend.

  "It's not like I didn't always find him attractive," Elyse explained. "But I thought he was just a guy who worked in the copy shop. He never said anything about having a master's in film directing, let alone a degree in business. How would I know he was just taking over 'til his uncle recovered from a triple bypass?"

  "Oh, I get it, believe me," Shar said. "Part of why I love Jerry is his brains. The man is brilliant. Cerebral turns me on, so I totally get why an Average Joe would not be attractive to you."

  "No, but see, that's the part I missed," Elyse said. "'Cause, he was never average. He was never just some lackluster guy. And I knew it, deep down. His intelligence--his intensity--I felt it, but it was all out of context. So I, like, projected something else onto him. Blinded because of an assumption I made. Wrongly, as it turned out."

  "Remember," Dylan joked, "when you ass-ume, you make an ass out of you and me!"

  Elyse gave him a look. Dylan went on.

  "Now give me a blue-collar man with a hot little tuckus and I don't care what his IQ is, or what he does for a living--I'll take it just the same!"

  "We're talking the long haul, here, baby," Shar said, "not a one-night stand."

  Dylan shrugged hi
s shoulder flirtatiously. "Well, maybe I am, too."

  "When you're thinking about spending the rest of your life with somebody," she added, "things are a little different. Tight buns are fine, but if you can't discuss the news over morning coffee, who cares how good he looks? It's never going to last."

  Elyse sighed. "That's what Mother always said--more or less. Aside from, 'What's his net worth'?"

  Dylan snuffed. "My mother never said much beyond, 'Won't be home for dinner tonight, Dylan--got a hot date. Here's some money. Order in if you want.'"

  Elyse shot him a sympathetic glance. "Really?"

  "Yeah, but fuck it. I'm past all that now." He switched gears and smiled. "Okay. I'll take Mother Wazinski's advice. Coffee over finances sounds good to me!"

  Shar said, "You may not believe this, but I listened to my big sister's advice growing up. She always used to tell me, 'Friendship rides the tides. The sex thing goes in cycles when you're in it for life. Sometimes it's hot and sometimes it's not. But good conversation endures to the end.'"

  Dylan rubbed his chin and thought about this. "I like that. Makes perfect sense."

  "Which is why I adore my Jerry," Shar said. "The man has a huge brain! And the sex ain't too bad either."

  "Can't beat that," Elyse said.

  "Right," Shar said conclusively. "Which makes it definite."

  "Makes what definite?"

  "My retirement. Officially. A year from now."

  Dylan looked at her in shock. "Really? The ballerina is retiring?"

  Shar nodded. "I have to honor the contracts I have in place, but once they're done? We're heading west."

  "We?" Elyse repeated.

  "Jerry and me. I'm still researching the markets, but it looks like Brentwood is a good place to launch my trompe de l'oeil business."

  Dylan raised his eyebrows. "California?"

  "Jerry's old business partner is out there. Tons of connections. It's a great market for Jerry. He'll keep his ties here, but slowly he's transitioning toward the Pacific."

  "Wait a minute," Elyse asked, "you two guys are moving in together?"

  Shar's face took on a vulnerability Elyse had rarely ever seen.

  "We're buying a house together. I'm gonna plant a garden."

  Applause for the end of the sonata suddenly exploded from the crowd around them. Roused, the three friends joined in.

  After the applause died down, Elyse slumped back. "I can't believe you're leaving New York."

  "Don't look so glum!" Shar said in an upbeat voice. "I can't dance, forever, darling. Better to leave on a high note than deteriorate over time, all arthritic, dancing like shit." She shuddered visibly. "That would be a fate worse than death!"

  "Didn't think of it that way before," Elyse said quietly.

  "Well, I think it's great," Dylan said. "Congratulations, love! Even though I'll miss you."

  "I expect my friends to come out and visit. The door's always open, you know."

  When familiar strains of an early Mozart sonata skipped through the air, Elyse tuned into them. The sparkling music was in direct opposition to the sense of loss she suddenly felt from her best girlfriend's announcement about leaving the city. She jumped slightly when Shar patted her hand.

  "It's not for another year yet, darling."

  Elyse shook off her disappointment and laughed. "Right! I'm happy for you, Shar. It's wonderful."

  Mesmerized by the elegant music, the three of them grew quiet and listened.

  When the server placed a fresh round of drinks on the table, they toasted to friendship and lost themselves in the rapture of great music among exquisite works of art.

  * * * *

  The next morning at work, Elyse found the Make-Up Place strangely quiet. She glanced over at the manicure station, where Carla sat reading a gossip magazine about Latin soap opera stars.

  "Hola," Elyse said cheerfully. "How are you, Carla?"

  Before Carla could answer, a din of escalating voices emanated from behind the closed office door. Elyse stopped and listened, unable to make out what exactly was being said.

  Carla's spoke quietly. "They been in there together the last half hour."

  "What's going on?"

  Carla closed her magazine. "Every year the same thing, when summer comes. Business goes down, they need to cut costs. Rod's mother is tired of bailing them out."

  "Bailing them out?"

  "Funding the business."

  "Rod's mother funds the business?"

  "Some-sing like that. I think she's the one who gave them money to buy it in the first place. And she pays the bills, too, when they get stuck."

  "Really? Who knew."

  "When I first come to work here seven years ago? They were making so much money. But after a while? It starts going downhill. And I think it's going downhill ever since."

  Elyse chuckled at that familiar refrain. "But," she asked, "you do all right here, don't you?"

  "Yes, but I build my clientele up all on my own. If I move somewhere else, most of my customers will follow me. As long as I stay in the city."

  The Hoffenzimmers' voices continued less heatedly.

  Elyse frowned. "Are you thinking about leaving?"

  "No, not now at least. I'm just saying... But what they do when things slow down? They look around for someone to blame. They used to have six makeup artists here, you know."

  "It's only been me and part-timers since I started."

  "That's because their business not so good anymore. What they always used to do? They let a couple of them go before summer. Down to skeleton staff, they call it." She nudged her chin toward the office door. "I hear Rod tell Judy his mother wants to cut costs again."

  "Yeah, but I'm their only makeup artist."

  Carla glanced toward the door, then back at Elyse. "I don't know exactly what they talking about in there. But I heard Judy say she can run the retail desk all by herself, and they can close Sunday and Monday for the summer."

  "So, what? Are you saying my job's in jeopardy? Or they're just going to cut back my hours?"

  "I don't know, preciosa. I'm just saying... I see them do things before. You know?"

  "Like, let the makeup artist go?"

  Before Carla could respond, the office door cracked open. Elyse flinched on reflex. A surge of fear tore through her midriff, and she rushed back to her studio.

  On the way, she overheard Judy say, "Well, let's see what happens through the end of the week."

  Inside her studio, Elyse decided to set up for business-as-usual. She laid out her brushes across a purple cloth on top of the counter. After making sure the containers were all filled with tissue, swabs, and cotton pads, she retouched her own makeup in the mirror. With everything set to go, she put on a cheery face and strode out to the retail counter.

  Judy was wiping her bottom lip with the back of her hand when Elyse appeared. She turned and stuck something into a pocket of her long skirt.

  Business as usual.

  Elyse feigned perkiness to hide her anxiety. "How's it going, Judy? Everything all right with you?"

  "Morning, Elyse. Fine, thanks."

  "Cool. I think I'll make some phone calls this morning."

  "Good idea--since we have no appointments so far today."

  "Well, let's see if we can get some bodies in here then."

  As she flipped through the Rolodex, she fought increasing resentment at having to rev up business all by herself, all the time, when it made sense for Rod and Judy to help out. She would have welcomed their support in making phone calls, or advertising, or doing whatever it was that successful owners did. Speaking to disinterested women she'd called a dozen times before, with nothing new to offer, again and again, filled her with despair.

  For the rest of that day and the rest of the week, Elyse found herself increasingly frustrated by a lack of interest from ladies in coming to the Make-Up Place. As a result, she was earning less than ever, too.

  On the upside of life were her emails share
d with Keb. He'd settled back into his place and was busy with meetings. He was consumed with the production script and shooting schedule. His guys were scouting locations he'd later travel out to see. Elyse didn't want to sound like sour grapes or distract him with her problems, so she'd keep their conversations positive and upbeat, both on the phone and through their emails.

  While insisting all was well in her world, however, she was in fact worried about the work front, staving off panic attacks every day.

  Chapter 17

  The weekend of July Fourth, the air in Manhattan hung balmy and melancholy. Of course, if Elyse had been leaving for her family picnic in Connecticut instead of going to work, the city would probably have reflected more an air of summer fun. But earlier in the week Rod had insisted tourists in town would make it worthwhile to stay open. So Elyse promised her family she'd be in on the Metro-North train first thing the next morning.

  On her way to work, the empty streets dampened whatever hope remained for doing any real business. Elyse figured most New Yorkers had left the concrete canyon to spend the weekend along the shoreline or up in the mountains, or even at casinos.

  When she passed the copy shop, she noted the "Closed" sign on its door. How lucky for its employees! A powerful longing for Keb accompanied this thought, and she almost burst into tears.

  Why is it you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?

  When she approached the Make-Up Place, she was surprised to see both Rod and Judy through the window. Both Hoffenzimmers in today? This ought to be fun, she thought with disdain.

  The Make-Up Place interior was as empty as the streets. In spite of the heat outside, an icy ambience chilled the air inside. When Elyse's cheery, "Good morning" was met by a terse greeting from Rod and a quiet, "He-ey" from Judy, she knew something was up.

  Elyse looked around. "Is Carla not working today?"

  "No," Judy answered blandly, "she's off."

  Rod cleared his throat. Elyse sensed disaster, but smiled anyway.

  "Elyse," he began, "we need to, uh, have a talk here today."

  Elyse glanced at Judy who started cleaning countertops with a vengeance.