“Nice. ’Bout the same as my job, except for the part about boiling things. Where’s Ming?”
“She’s at work still. Boiling some shit, probably. She kicked me out. Said I was driving her nuts and getting in the way. Gonna be another half hour probably.”
“So you came to her place?” Ruby looked at him with a look of shared mischief. “Good move.”
“My place now, too, man,” Todd clarified.
After Entertainment Tonight faded into a Seinfeld rerun and then Law and Order, Ming came home. She looked straight at Todd and said, “What are you doing here?” This was obviously bravado since she was well aware that Todd had been living on her couch for over a month.
Neither Ruby nor Todd was bothered by Ming’s blustery mood. When Ming was on the warpath for real, they’d run for the storm cellar like someone had just yelled “Twister!” but she was just blowing off steam. Between the fledgling underwear empire and the lab work, she had too much on her plate. While Ming slammed cabinet doors and told Todd about his horrible results from the day, “That column you ran—it looks like you ran sheep manure through it. What was that?”
Todd shrugged.
“You definitely added something. Your percent yield can’t be 125 percent. You’re going to have to do it again.”
In his best Igor voice, Todd said, “Yes, mastuh.” Then, he swallowed his mouthful of Cheetos and said, “125 percent no good. Tomorrow, I give 200 percent.”
Ming rolled her eyes, but before she could respond, the doorbell rang. True to form, she greeted the knocker without any pretense of welcome. With a saucy pose and a glare over the top of her cat-eye glasses, she said, “No soliciting. Didn’t you see the sign?” She pointed to the No Soliciting sign to his left.
“Not here to sell anything. I’m picking up Ruby,” Eric said in an unruffled tone. “I’m taking her on a date.”
Ming simply said, “Be my guest,” and pointed towards Ruby who was staring with horror at Eric. What was Too Sexy doing at her door?
“Miss O’Deare.” He swaggered over like John Wayne and gave her a once over. After taking in the robe, the hair, and the bag of Cheetos, he commented, “Did you forget our date?”
She stared at him with confusion. “What? What are you doing here?”
“We have a date. Seven o’clock. Dessert. Don’t you remember?”
“We don’t have a date. We never confirmed or picked a time. And, that was so long ago.” Scrutinizing his expression, she said, “What are you doing?” Taking in his appearance, she thought maybe the better question was—did she care what he was doing? He looked like a sexy Norse god in jeans and a T-shirt, a tattoo of a ship’s wheel on his upper arm and blond wind-whipped hair.
With a casual shrug, he said, “Doesn’t look like you have any plans.” Ruby stared back, wondering if she wanted to trade in her kitty cat robe for a something cute and go out with Eric. She paused, though. The man looked ready for a Sexiest Man Alive photo shoot and all he wanted was for her to postpone rubbing in cellulite cream so they could go on a date. It didn’t add up. There had to be something wrong with him. How did he even know where she lived?
Eric ignored her hesitation and said, “How about we start with introductions?”
“Oh, sorry. Eric, this is Ming and Todd,” she said, pointing to her housemates. “Ming and Todd, Eric. Ming is a chemist-slash-underwear designer and Todd is her assistant.” Turning her gaze to Eric, Ruby added, “Eric was the arresting officer on one of my cases.”
Even Eric, seasoned police officer that he was, raised his eyebrows at Todd and Ming. “Nice to meet you. What kind of underwear you people designing?” His tone implied that he assumed it was S&M.
Ming just rolled her eyes and went to the fridge to look for something to make for dinner. She clearly didn’t give a damn if Eric or anyone else thought she was a whips and chains freak.
“Where you guys going?” Todd asked. Like a Labrador, he perked up at the mention of food.
Todd didn’t really get the concept of dating, or privacy at all for that matter, obviously. This was probably due to his upbringing. From what Ruby could piece together, he grew up on a kibbutz in Israel until his parents split, at which time he had moved to Grand Targhee where his dad worked as a ski instructor. From the sound of it, Todd had become a certified ski bum in Targhee. In Kansas, where the tallest ski hill was a 200-foot icy incline that ran straight into the interstate, Todd’s description probably ended at bum. Only Ruby and Ming’s couch saved him from violating local homeless statutes.
“I was going to take her out for pie at the fifties diner.”
“Nice. If Ruby doesn’t want to go, I will. I’m starving.” He looked down at his stomach as if it were a separate being.
“Are you serious, man?” Eric asked with an incredulous look.
“Totally,” said Todd.
Eric shrugged and said, “I guess, if Ruby would feel more comfortable, it’s fine with me. It’s not like I can’t find another date. I mean, I could just set up a speed trap and get phone numbers that way.”
With raised eyebrows, Ming said, “You dispense tickets and collect phone numbers. For real?”
“Basically,” he said. “What’s your problem, Fifty Shades? Do you really believe in the ‘First comes appetizer sampler platter, then comes love’ crap that Hollywood and corporate food giants feed us?” He shook his head. “Applebee’s and Carmike Cinemas only foster the concept of ‘dating’ to keep stiffs in neighboring cubicles from getting married without spending a fortune on fried cheese sticks and tickets to the latest Jennifer Anniston movie.” From his expression, he didn’t appear to be a Jennifer Anniston fan.
Ming rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You sound stingy to me. Just make sure to have Todd back by midnight and try not to get him drunk.”
Rolling with it, Eric responded, “That’ll be hard to do because he already looks high as a kite to me. And, that is a professional opinion. Ruby, you coming?”
She was going to say no, but she imagined the noise of the rolling bag, tiny plastic wheels rolling over evenly spaced tiles, roooooooll, thunk, roooooooll, thunk, roooooooll. “Fine, I’ll go.” If Noel was going to date Rolly Bag, she might as well have some fun, even if there was something wrong with Eric.
“Okay, I’m coming too. Someone responsible needs to be present,” Ming said.
So they all piled into Eric’s ride, incidentally a three-quarter ton diesel pickup with lights on top and an American flag attached to the antenna. It came with everything but the giant dick, which was presumably attached to the owner of the pickup. Like a bunch of high-school kids, they filed into a booth at the diner and ordered mugs of coffee and pie. Against her objection, Eric paid for Ruby’s slice of strawberry pie, opened doors for her, and casually slung his arm over her shoulders in the booth—not in a snuggly way or a poised-to-grope way, just in an “I’m a big man and I take up a lot of space” way, pretty much the same as his truck. He didn’t ask before he encroached, he just did. If there was an armrest, he would have taken that, too.
Ming noticed. “Why do men always see the need to take up all the space in a booth?” She was looking at Eric.
“What? I’m just sitting.”
“No, you’re not. You’re taking up most of the booth. Are men all born with some sense of imperialistic entitlement to take up more space than women? It’s ridiculous.” She kicked Todd into the corner of their shared space for effect. “You might as well take that flag off your pickup and plant it on Ruby’s side of the booth. Chinese men are never this impolite.”
“Chill out, woman. We’re just sitting here,” said Todd.
Ming had lost Ruby a while ago. She was delighted to be tucked into Eric’s arm. Who wouldn’t be? It brought to mind a Kim Kardashian interview. “Ming, didn’t you hear that interview where Kim Kardashian said, ‘Having a big boyfriend makes me feel protected and small.’” It was true. Also, since Eric’s hair was so straight, she almost felt like her
hair was curly.
“Aren’t the Kardashians from Star Trek?” Todd wondered aloud.
While Todd struggled to locate the Kardashians in the jumbled files in his mind, Eric casually asked Ruby, “You still in touch with Estelle?”
“What? Why?” She couldn’t imagine why Eric would care.
“Just wondering. I was talking to Destinee. She asked about Estelle’s house.”
“What’s it to you?” Her hackles stood up. Why would Eric care about Destinee’s business or Estelle’s?
“Nothing, baby. Dee just mentioned it to me yesterday.”
Dee? Ruby mentally added another tick into Eric’s “suspicious” column, right next to “insisted on buying me pie.” Though it was tempting to believe, she didn’t think Eric had spent a month working up the courage to invite her out. To Eric she said, “Estelle’s a client. I can’t violate attorney-client privilege.”
Ming changed the topic. “So the chemistry department is having its annual fall party. I offered to throw it at our place so there would be decent food. It’s going to be a costume party because it’s Halloween.” She looked around the table. “I’m going to need some help with the set-up and I’ll provide free beer to anyone who helps. It’s this weekend.”
Eric and Todd nodded assent. “Sounds good to me,” said Eric. “I don’t know about a costume, but I’ll come.”
“It’s a costume party,” said Ming. “Hence, you need to wear a costume.”
“Fine. I’ll be a swimmer,” answered Eric with a shrug.
“Ugh. Nudity doesn’t count as a costume.”
“You haven’t seen my abs, yet.” He started to pull the hem of his shirt up.
Ming didn’t look impressed. “Come as a police officer if you have to. That’s basically a costume anyway.”
“When did you say the party is?” asked Ruby. “You know, I’m sort of busy at work.”
“This Friday, two days from now. I’m having it catered. All you have to do is move your pile of magazines and fingernail polish and put on a costume. It’s almost all men, many of them moderately attractive with good earning potential, so you might find a good prospect in there besides this yahoo.” She gestured to Eric. “Todd and Eric, you’re pretty much out of luck. I’m about the only chick in the department, but I’d like if you came over and moved the couch out of the way.”
“Can I invite Noel?” Ruby asked, suddenly excited at the prospect of dressing in a slutty costume and flirting outrageously.
“No, Ruby. You absolutely cannot invite the landlord.”
Ruby started to protest, but Ming shut her down. “What are you even thinking with that guy? He’s cute enough, but I don’t get what you see in him. He’s always standing around like he’s waiting to play in a polo match or something. On second thought, maybe that’s why you like him.”
“That’s not fair, Ming. He totally looks like Mister Right.”
Eric cut in. “Who’s Mister Right, that sissy zoning commissioner?”
Ignoring Eric, Ruby said, “My mom would say Noel’s…” She stared at her plate for a few seconds. “Who is that guy, you know the one from the comic strip with Betty and Veronica?”
“You mean Reggie? Where are you coming up with this?”
“My Mom, I guess.”
With an amused expression, Ming said. “I hate to break it to you, but not everyone fits neatly into a TV character trope.”
“You’re wrong.” Ruby shook her head. “You’re Veronica. I’m Betty. Noel is probably the cute boy one and you guys are…” Ruby bit her lip and tried to remember the other characters from Archie. “Whatever. I’m sure you all fit one of the characters, exactly. My mom could tell you which ones.”
Ming started laughing. “I love how you can’t even remember any of the male characters. It’s a hell of a way to classify potential boyfriends.”
“Whatever.” Neither of the guys appeared to be listening. Todd was making a statue out of his silverware and Eric was eating everyone’s leftover pie while she talked.
“You are basically operating in a Barbie framework, or any other world that has only one male character. Ken or whoever, is only there as a prop. If you want to get married or go to a premiere, you need Ken.” She looked at Ruby to make sure she was listening. “You see guys in terms of Ken or Not Ken.”
“Shut up.” She tried to think of a response, but nothing came to mind immediately, so she added. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Of course I have a more nuanced understanding of men than that.”
“No, it explains all of your past relationships. Every guy who would look good in a tux is a ‘Ken,’ regardless of all other traits. After a few dates, you end up wondering why the guy, who usually has a side part, isn’t bringing you flowers or driving you around in a convertible.” Ming started laughing, “It’s worse than I thought. Remember Ty?”
Ruby felt her cheeks burn. She and Tyrone, Estelle’s prosecutor, had dated for about a month. During Constitutional Law they talked about Brown v. Board of Education and separate but equal. Casually, Ruby had asked him, “Why do you say us when you’re talking about the black kids?” He’d given her a funny look and said, “Uh…’cause I’m black.”
She hadn’t known. Granted, he wasn’t super dark-skinned, but after meeting his sister (who sported a fabulous afro) and a month of heavy petting in the library, she probably should have guessed. He’d dumped her not long after that (because she was an idiot) which had been a bummer because she really liked him. At least she thought she did. Even she had to wonder at her lack of perception. Ming was right, she was man-blind. Give her any man with the basic dimensions of Ken and she’d fill in the rest—likes, dislikes, sexual preference, even ethnicity.
Todd’s tower of forks collapsed and broke her train of thought. He said, “I’m totally Ken, aren’t I?”
Ming said, “No, Todd, you’re someone else, but we can’t remember because we didn’t watch any shows with boy characters.”
Swallowing a mouthful of pie, Eric said, “What about you, Ming, are you into Barbie or Ken?”
Ming redirected. “Oh, silly boy, I don’t classify dates by cartoon characters. We’re talking about Ruby.”
“Ming doesn’t even want to get married,” Ruby said, hoping to keep the attention on someone else.
“Of course not. I don’t want to give up my independence just because of my biological drive to reproduce.”
Eric and Ming eyed each other from across the table, like a couple of circling tigers. Eric sized her up again and said, “I might have to come visit that underwear shop of yours when it opens.”
Ming stared back with a look of boredom. “I’m done. Let’s go home.”
Ruby reflected on Ming’s observation. Had she ever really known any of her boyfriends? Between work and free time, Ruby spent most of her time in the mall with Gap’s version of the average male posted on every wall. At night she came home to The Bachelor. As for her formative years, her mother had directed their household like a madcap version of Father Knows Best. She wasn’t sure if it was possible to be physically blinded by your expectations, but it might explain the last few guys she dated. It made her wonder if Noel West was as good as he looked. Maybe if she squinted, she’d be able to parse out the details.
Chapter Eight
Trudi Over-salts the Chicken
Ruby woke up the next morning feeling a bit woozy. She stared out the window for a while, not even able to drink her coffee. What is the matter with me? She didn’t feel nauseous, but she did feel like the floor was moving without her. The room was swaying, just a little. If she’d been more of a control freak, she definitely would have felt really sick, but being Ruby, she figured she’d just add coffee. Going straight to work sounded awful, so she decided to drop by Estelle’s first. If Eric was wondering about the real estate deal, it was probably time to check in. She picked up the phone and dialed.
Estelle answered on about the fortieth ring. “This is Estelle,”
she said in a wavering voice.
“Estelle, it’s Ruby. I was wondering if you had time to talk this morning?”
“Isn’t that a coincidence? I finished leaving you a message about one second ago.”
Ruby exclaimed, “We’re psychic!” and then added, “Well, I guess we can just skip the messages.” This was convenient because Ruby never checked her messages anyway. Who needed to talk with Bank of the West Collection? “I was calling to see if you wanted to go out for a coffee this morning. We can catch up and go over the offer from that developer.”
“Oh, you don’t have to take me out, sugar. Trudi is over and she’d probably love to have a girl around to visit with.”
“If you want to stay home, we can do it another time, but it is important to talk about your legal issues without anyone else around.” Especially Trudi, thought Ruby. “All the same, I’d like to take you out. Where’d you like to go?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Wherever you normally go,” Estelle replied.
…
Estelle may have played it cool on the phone, but the woman was dressed for an occasion with a floral church frock, a hat, and matching rhinestone jewelry. The outfit screamed shopping followed by a late lunch of finger sandwiches, not coffee date with your lawyer.
“Well, I was going to take you to Starbucks, but maybe we should aim a little higher,” said Ruby. Estelle would probably hate the menu of lattes and macchiatos as much as anyone else’s grandmother anyway.
“Can you wait a minute, honey? I still need to put my face on.”
“Of course, I’ll just sit down.”
“Trudi’s in the kitchen if you want to chat for a minute. She was just telling me about Jermaine. He’s doing so well.”
“In jail?” asked Ruby. Her voice sounded as confused as she felt.
“Of course, Trudi tells me that he quit smoking and he’s working out. It’s just wonderful. I’ve been trying to get him to quit for ages.”
Ruby's Misadventures With Reality Page 6
