by P. R. Paige
After roaming around the store for several minutes, trying out the many mattresses, Rome summons me to join him in the far right of the outlet. By the time, I meet him, Storm is also there and, of course, India has never left his side.
"Would it be too much trouble to put two king-size beds together so that my lady friends and I can try them out?" Rome asks the salesman.
"Of course," the salesman obliges without hesitation.
After the two beds have been moved together to create one humongous bed, Rome asks, "Would it be okay, if my lady friends tried it out?"
The salesman nods yes.
Rome directs his attention to us. "Okay, ladies. Climb up on the bed and see how it feels."
We all three step out of our sandals, climb upon the bed and recline into a horizontal position. Rome is quick to place the three pillows that he has been holding, underneath each of our heads. He then pivots around the bed and studies us. "Comfortable?" he asks us.
"Very," I say. My arms are at my side as I lie perfectly still, staring up at the ceiling.
"What about you, Storm? India?" he asks them.
"I have no complaints," Storm says.
"Me either," India says, changing her body into different sleeping positions.
Rome then spreads the soft blanket over all of us, then squeezes in between Storm and me. I can only imagine what thoughts are going through the salesman's mind. He must think that we are straight out of a comic book, and if he doesn't, I sure do.
Once Rome is in bed with us, he pulls the cover over our heads.
I laugh to myself. I am sure that security has been called, and we are about to be ejected from the bed and the store.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I am pegged by the curiosity of the salesman, wearing the knee-length dress. "You guys think that a man wearing a dress necessarily makes him gay?" I ask.
"It depends," Rome says.
"Hell, yeah, he's gay," Storm says.
"Well, what kind of dress is it?" India asks, "Is it a long dress or a short dress?"
"It doesn't matter," Storm insists, "if he's wearing a dress, he's gay."
Rome changes the subject fast. "We can talk about dress-wearing men some other time. Would this bed be comfortable for all of you?"
Before any of us can answer, the salesman says to all of us, through the blanket. "Is everything okay in there?"
"Everything is fine," Rome says. "So is everyone comfortable?"
I am first to answer. "It's very nice and spacious."
"Yeah, it's like sleeping on sunshine," Storm says.
"And what about you, India?" Rome asks her.
India isn't responding to Rome's question, and I am feeling a little hot underneath this blanket. I'm ready for this test drive to be over.
"India, are you comfortable?" Rome asks her again.
"I can't be exactly sure yet," she says, then proceeds to crawl over Storm, finding a place right next to Rome.
Am I surprised?
Absolutely not.
India continually twists and turns into different sleeping positions, seemingly wanting to make sure that it is one-hundred percent to her satisfaction. She then says, "Yes, this is fine."
The whole time that this test drive is taking place, I am wondering why we are still underneath the covers, but I don't say anything. I'm just the new kid on the block along for the ride.
"So, is it safe to say that we are all in agreement on this one?" Rome asks us.
"Yes," I say. "Can we get out of here now? It's hot."
Rome snatches the covers off our heads, and we all rise into a sitting position. "India," Storm says. "I couldn't help but notice when you crawled over me that your ass is getting kind of wide."
"It is not," India says, frowning. Her eyes are squinted and her voice elevated. "That is absolutely not true."
"I call it the way I feel it," Storm says, chuckling. She enjoys taunting India.
The salesman scans all of us, his eyes blinking nonstop. "Is everything okay?"
"Just give us a few minutes," Rome says, "a little family dispute is all."
Rome flings the covers back over our heads as we are all still in a sitting position.
"Rome," India says. "Did you hear what Storm said about my ass? She said my ass is getting big."
"Of course, I heard her."
With the hot lights beaming down on us, I am quick to interject. It is too hot underneath this blanket. "Is there any way I could get out of here and let you guys handle this without me?"
"No," Rome says. "This is a family matter, and you are part of this family."
My eyes widen and I flop back down into a resting position.
"Now, where were we?" Rome asks.
"I'll tell you where we were," India says, pointing her finger at Storm. "Storm said I had a big ass. That's where we were, and she shouldn't say things like that, especially if they're not true."
It's obvious that India is very sensitive about her weight which surprises me because she is no bigger than a size eight.
Rome turns to Storm. "Storm?" He says as if he's waiting for some kind of explanation.
"Rome," Storm replies.
"Tell India that her ass is not getting big," Rome says. "You know that is not true."
Storm shifts her head away from India and says nothing.
"Storm," Rome says again. This is his serious tone.
My eyes fall shut and I snicker to myself. The circus is in town, and to my unfortunate amazement, I'm a part of that circus.
After several seconds, Storm turns to India and says, "Okay, it's not true. You don't have a fat ass, but you do have a slight hump in your back."
"I do not have a hump in my back," India shouts. "Do I Rome?"
"Last time I checked, it was looking pretty humpy," Rome says.
India throws the covers off our heads and storms out of the bed.
Finally, fresh air and I can breathe again.
"India, you know I was just messing with you." Rome says.
"And so was I," Storm admits to India.
"I'm so sick of this shit," India says, slipping into her wedge sandals. "This whole fucking lifestyle is not normal."
The room goes silent as all eyes are on us.
India holds out her hand to Rome, "Give me the keys. I'm going to wait in the car. What is this shit anyway? One man and three women?"
Rome pulls the keys from his pocket and hands them to her. "India, you know I was just playing."
"You said that already," India says, right before dashing out the door.
For the entire time that I have known India, I have never seen here this upset before. I had no idea that she was that sensitive about her weight, especially since she eats almost as much as I do. Here is something else I'm just now learning. When she wants to be, Storm can be a real troublemaker. That proves evident the way Storm continued to sling insults at India despite knowing how sensitive she is.
Rome, Storm, the salesman, myself and everyone else in the store have just had our weeks' worth of entertainment, and I have to admit, I'm glad that I was a part of it.
Rome breaks an uncomfortable silence, then claps his hands together once. "Nothing more to see here, folks."
Embarrassed by the unwanted attention, I lower my head even though a small part of me enjoys being a part of the chaos.
While Rome completes the purchase for the mattresses, my thoughts return to what India said about this radical lifestyle. This living arrangement of the four of us is most definitely not normal, but I always knew that, and yet I ended up being a part of it anyway.
And the scariest thing about what happened today, is that this is just the opening act.
Am I seriously ready for more?
Episode Ten
It should be no surprise to any of us when we reach the parking lot, that not only is India gone, but she has driven off in the Jeep Renegade as well. I kind of expected it. I mean, she was quite rattled. Although the day started out rather interestin
g, it's ending on a more perplexing note.
After hailing a taxi, we all arrive home. To my major surprise, neither Storm nor Rome appear bothered by India's erratic behavior. Perhaps it's the norm.
Once inside, I ask Rome, "Does India have these outbursts often?"
"Not often," Rome says, "then again, maybe too often."
Rome is quick to go and search for India while Storm and I retire to the kitchen for a much-needed cold beverage.
Five minutes pass, and Storm and I are in the midst of enjoying a glass of pink lemonade when Rome enters the kitchen.
"Ladies, I need to be alone with India for a little while, if that's okay with both of you."
I'm scratching my head again, dumbfounded.
Is he serious?
Is he asking us to leave the house so that he and India can be alone?
Not at all shocked by his request, Storm finishes off her lemonade and lifts herself up from the chair. "Sure."
Rome places the keys inside Storm's hand and then kisses her on the cheek.
"Thank you."
"Thursday," Rome says, directing his attention at me. "I'll see you later."
"You most definitely will," I say as this scenario is just too interesting not to return for the update.
Storm heads out of the kitchen and I follow behind her.
"Where are we going?" I ask Storm.
"We'll find a place."
I am almost out of the kitchen when Rome catches up to me and graces my forehead with a sweet kiss. "Thank you."
"I would say you're welcome," I say to Rome, "but I'm not sure that I should."
"It's okay. I forgive you."
Both Storm and I converge on Rome's Jeep Renegade and drive off.
"So what's going on," I am quick to ask Storm.
"Thursday is threatening to leave again."
"How do you know?" I ask Storm as I stare out the window, studying the young couple holding hands.
"Because this is her way," Storm says, "She always threatens to leave."
I scratch my head again. I am without words.
"India is a very sensitive person and this is what she does," Storm confesses.
"She did say that this lifestyle of ours was not normal, but I didn't think she's be willing to just give it up so easily," I say, trying to make sense of this.
"Oh, she's serious," Storm assures me, "though I doubt she would actually move out. I personally think she does it as a way to garner special attention from Rome."
"Well, it seems to be working."
"Which is why she does it. I'm sure you've noticed how enamored she is with him."
"Yeah, it's kind of hard not to," I say, "She's madly in love with him, isn't she?"
"I love Rome, too," Storm admits, "but in a different sort of a way."
"What do you mean?"
"I love Rome, too, but I don't need him."
"You think India needs him?" I ask.
"No, she doesn't need him anymore than I do, but she thinks that she does."
Amazon Books & Cocoa
The robust aroma of freshly brewed pecan pie flavored coffee greets Storm and me at the just recently opened Amazon Books & Cocoa. Only three Amazon cafes in the country exists, and we are exceptionally lucky that Chicago is one of the three.
Amazon Books & Cocoa is most notable for their TV screens that showcase blockbuster movies and their trademark frozen blueberry ale, not to mention their monthly pay-per-use cover charge.
As we head up the escalator, my eyes catch a glimpse of The Matrix, which can be viewed on more than ten wide television screens. Storm and I locate a cozy spot in one of the private sitting rooms, which includes a sofa, two chairs and a circular coffee table. I have always loved the tranquil bookstore experience and am happy that a few still exists.
I lounge comfortably on the sofa and draft notes for my novel in progress while Storm leans back in the chair opposite the circular table and listens to music from her iPhone.
Forty-five minutes pass, and Storm removes her headphones and turns to me. "You know, I hate this," Storm says, rising forward. "I hate that he asks us to leave the house to be alone with her."
"It's not like he does it all the time," I say, "or does he?"
"It doesn't matter. I don't like that it happens at all."
"So, what's happening at the house anyway?" I ask, naively.
"What do you think?" Storm asks me as if I should know.
I think about it, but really, I just don't know.
"He pacifies her," Storm blurts out, "and fucks her real good, and most importantly, he convinces her not to leave."
"Oh," I respond, feeling as if I should have known that was the case. "How do you know all of this?"
"She tells me." Storm uncrosses her legs and sinks down in the chair. "India is a little needy, in case you haven't noticed."
"Oh, I've noticed." I pause for thought. I want to ask something that I know I shouldn't, but I ask anyway. "Do you think India is his favorite?"
"No. I don't… What I do know is that Rome has a great setup with the three of us and does not want to let it go. Period."
Before I agreed to move into the House of Rome, I was convinced that both Storm and India were totally okay with the radical setup. However, as each day goes by, I am rethinking my impression. Maybe, neither of them are as contented as I once thought.
After a short silence, I ask Storm, "What happens now?"
"We return home and everything is back to normal."
"Just like that?" There has to be more to it than that.
"Just like that," Storm says and then butters her lips with lip gloss.
I gather my notes for my novel, stuff them into my purse and ease into a peaceful position on the sofa. "How did you meet Rome?"
"I met him at the gym, many years ago."
"Really?" I say, "And what about India. How did she meet Rome?"
"I wish I could tell you, but I think India would like to tell you that story herself."
As I witness the distress in Storm's eyes, there's something simmering inside me, something I need to know and I just say it. "Are you, or are you not comfortable with this living arrangement?"
"Truth?"
"Yes, please," I reply, holding my breath.
"Sometimes I am, and other times… I am not."
Rome is waiting for us at the front door when Storm and I arrive home. He holds in his hand what appears to be two strawberry daiquiris and they look delightful.
"Thanks to the both of you for giving us some time alone." He places the drinks in our hands, then plants a kiss on my cheek first and then Storm's.
We all three proceed inside and head towards the kitchen.
"Can I get anything for either of you?" Rome asks Storm and me.
I smile. Rome has never stopped being a gentleman since I moved in here. "I'm fine, but thank you."
"How's India," Storm asks.
"You can ask her yourself when she wakes up," Rome says.
This is what I have to say about Rome. Yes, he's a womanizer. Yes, he likes having his way and yes, he's a little eccentric, but besides all of that, this is a man who knows how to treat women well.
Storm and I head upstairs. I am still sipping my mouth-watering daiquiri when Rome quickly glides up the stairs behind us. "I almost forgot," he says and then hands a small Tiffany box to me and then to Storm.
"What's this for?" I ask him.
"Because I like you, and because I like Storm. Then, again, the word like is too weak a word." He gazes at Storm and then me. "Because I love you. Both of you."
My mouth pops open, and my eyes bulge, and it's not because he said the words I love you. It's because he announced it to the both of us at the same time.
How weird is that?
After uttering the words that every woman wants to hear, he disappears down the stairs.
One thing is certain. He knows how to end a conversation on a high note, even if his words are fake.
"When did he find time to go shopping at Tiffany's?" I ask Storm.
"He didn't. He keeps women's gifts in a locked closet, that only he has the key, just for occasions just like that."
"Surely, you jest!"
"Why go shopping in a store when you can go shopping in your own closet?" Storm says.
I have to pay tribute where tribute is due.
The man has style.
Once in my room, I lie on the plus white sofa and listen to The Best of Sting, which includes my favorite track, Shape of My Heart. I play it over and over. Since moving into the House of Rome, of all the rooms in the house, this is my favorite. One reason: It's mine. Since I'm not too fond of heavy duty air-conditioning, I allow the fresh air from the opened windows to force its way through the ivory colored curtains.
With a fresh summer breeze surging through my room, I finish reading the remaining pages of Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends on It, which speaks to me about my current living arrangement here in the House of Rome. I have to wonder.
Are Storm, India and I all experimenting with our self-esteem?
Then, there's something else that's brewing inside me.
Can living with two women and a man be good for my self-worth?
My curious mind wants to know, and will eventually find out.
I am up earlier than usual the next morning and decide to luxuriate in a warm raspberry bubble bath. I revel in the stillness and quiet of the moment. Rome, India, and Storm are not up yet, and it feels as if I have the house all to myself.
Instead of having breakfast with the "fam" as usual, I head to work earlier than normal. Just as I am about to step into my car, our king-size double beds are delivered, which surprises me. It's not even 9:00 o'clock.
I drive off in my Volkswagen Beetle, in route to the Eisenhower Expressway and remind myself that tonight will be the night, the night when I join Storm, India and Rome in the family sleeping room.
I work for only a few hours at Perrin's place and not just because I am eager to return home, but because, Perrin does not have much for me today, which suits me just fine.
Upon my arrival back home, Storm and India are cohabitating in the front room watching TV. After greeting them both, I head upstairs for a shower. Hovering over the tub, preparing my shower, I inhale the sweet smell of Pine-sol as I have just rinsed out the tub. I am wearing lace panties and nothing else when Rome appears out of nowhere. Though I am not wearing a bra, I don't cover myself. He has seen me naked before, and I suspect he will see me naked again. He carries with him two large Saks Fifth Avenue shopping bags, and he's wearing his usual brand of confidence in his attractive stance.
