The Cocktail Club

by Pat Tucker

  At home, I waited for Ted to return my call. When I called the office again, they said he still hadn’t called in for messages. I didn’t want to call back, but I needed him to recognize that he did work for me, and that my calls were very important.

  I was a nervous wreck. Geneva had heard enough to put two and two together. The more I wracked my brain over the conversation with Felicia, the more I’d forgotten exactly what I had said.

  Zion wasn’t home yet, and I had no one else to bounce my destructive thoughts off of. I walked over to the bar and pulled out a bottle.

  Suddenly, I stopped.

  Did I have a drinking problem? I had always considered myself to be little more than a social drinker. I was like most women. We enjoyed a cocktail here and there, but it wasn’t like I’d take a bottle of vodka and turn it up, was it?

  I stood and stared at the bottle.

  When does it cross the line?

  Was my arrest a simple mistake, or was it a sign of something far worse? What if I did have a problem, but I was too close to it to recognize or acknowledge it? Zion and I would usually unwind with drinks in the evening. I always had a cocktail with lunch, and our old, weekly happy hour outings were tales that legends and urban myths were made of.

  For years, I had told myself I felt more at ease, better, and less stressed after I had enjoyed a drink, but I only indulged socially.

  Could there be such a thing as a social alcoholic?

  “For Christ’s sake! Hasn’t that caused us enough problems?”

  Zion’s voice took me by surprise. I looked over at him and wondered if it would even be worth it to respond to his little comment.

  “Ted called me,” he said as he walked all the way into the house. “I know good and well you’re not about to drink some more.”

  His tone was laced with a mixture of shock and disgust.

  “I’m sorry. Since when did I become an alcoholic?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Since we’ve been slapped with what’s about to be damn near a ten-thousand-dollar bill connected to your DWI arrest,” he huffed.

  There it was. That was what had become the dig that kept on giving.

  “How long, Zion?”

  He edged past me and pulled the refrigerator open.

  I turned and asked, “Seriously. How much longer?”

  Once he closed the door, Zion cocked his head and looked at me quizzically. He removed the cap from a sports drink, and then took a swig. Afterwards, he fell back against the refrigerator door, and appeared as if he needed to study me before he answered.

  I waited.

  “What are you talking about, woman?” he finally asked.

  “I just wanna know. How long are you gonna continue to spank me for the same mistake?”

  44

  PETA

  “We ain’t tryin’ to tell you how to run your business or nothin’ like that, but I don’t know why you would put two trucks at the same location,” Beverly said into my ear.

  I put my drink down. I had learned my lesson after I failed to pay attention to her last warning phone call, but that was not about to happen again. “What are you talking about?”

  “Farah and I were talking about the new truck, and we’ve been so slow all morning. I couldn’t take it anymore. Farah over there talking about ‘Ms. Peta knows what she’s doing,’ and maybe you do, but the mess don’t make no sense to me. I could’ve been at home watching Judge Judy if I’d known it was gonna be this slow,” she complained.

  “Beverly, the other truck is in Sugar Land. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  While I was still on the phone, she began to talk to Farah. I polished off my drink. I had long convinced myself that with all the crap that now dominated my life, happy hour was any time of day I felt the need to get away.

  “Farah, is that another mobile boutique parked right over there with a line wrapped damn near around the courtyard?” Beverly asked sarcastically. She returned to our call. “Like I said, I coulda stayed at home for this foolishness!”

  “Beverly, there are only two trucks. If Sugar Land is there, I need to call Cecily and figure out what’s going on. I did not approve a move, and why would I send it out there anyway? That makes no sense.”

  “That’s what I tried to tell Farah. You know what. I’ma ’bout to go and see what the hell they giving out for free over there, ’cause ain’t no way folks gon’ be standing in a line like that to spend money,” Beverly said. “ ’Specially when we sittin’ over here on empty like this!”

  I had a strong feeling about exactly what was going on, and I wouldn’t get any answers if I stayed on the phone. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and rushed to my car.

  When I arrived at the campus in Katy, I could see exactly why Beverly was confused. The new mobile boutique was nearly twice the size of mine. The line she complained about had shrunk a bit, and several people had wandered over to our truck. But that new, big fancy truck was not mine.

  I poured myself a glass of mimosa in hopes that it would help calm my building temper.

  “Hey, Ms. Peta, they’re giving away one item with the purchase of two! And with that, they’re offering a coupon for fifty percent off on the next visit.”

  I rolled my eyes. The very last thing I needed on top of everything else was—

  That’s when it slapped me all upside my face.

  “She brought it right here to my very own backyard. I had finally had enough!” I swallowed the rest of my drink and got up.

  Farah’s eyebrows were knitted in concentration as she focused on the activity that buzzed across the courtyard. It was all-quiet in our RV. I was ready to spit fire.

  “If that trick is over there in that truck, so help me God, I may be going to jail today,” I said. I put the empty glass down and hopped out of the vehicle.

  “Oh, Ms. Peta, don’t you do nothing stupid now!” Farah yelled after me.

  By the time she had gotten out to follow me, I had already made my way across the courtyard and up to the front of the line.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “Pardon me. Can I squeeze by?”

  It didn’t take long for me to get to the front of the line, but that’s where I had to stop. The RV was packed to the hilt. Sounds of chatter, music, and laughter floated out toward those of us who were unfortunate enough to have to stand in line and wait.

  “Is Pamela in there?” I yelled from my perch in line.

  A few heads turned in my direction, but no one responded. I was fit to be tied. With all the problems I’d had, I couldn’t believe that backstabbing skank had the audacity to show up on my turf. I was full of liquid courage and fed up. That was a dangerous combination but still, I charged forward.

  “Excuse me. Heee-llo,” I repeated more loudly.

  I felt bad for the person in front of me and the one behind me, but this was not about them. It was about the bitch who had pushed me to the limit.

  Once I got tired of being ignored, I began to charge my way forward.

  “I’m sorry. I need to get in there,” I said as I moved.

  “You need to wait your turn,” another woman said and shoved me back.

  Farah stood off to the side and tried to reason with me. “Ms. Peta, can I have a word, please?”

  I ignored her and the woman who pushed me, and moved until I worked my way up to the door. I squeezed onto the steps and could hardly believe my eyes when I caught a glimpse of the inside of the RV.

  Pamela had studied my business to the tee. Her custom-designed interior looked like she had spent a mint.

  A woman whose cute outfit matched the brown and turquoise setting looked at me as if I was a nuisance.

  “Ma’am, you need to wait your turn like everyone else,” she snarled.

  “You don’t understand. Where’s Pamela Evans?” I asked.

  By then, I was nearly out of breath and must’ve seemed as crazy as I jumped the line.

  “Ma’am, Pamela is not here.” />
  At that point, she had stopped working with her customer to focus her wrath on me. “If you don’t leave, we’re gonna have to call security. You are disrupting business.” She pointed a crooked, bony finger toward a sign that was plastered up against the door.

  It read that they had the right to refuse service to anyone. I wanted to rip it from the wall and tell her what she could do with her sign. I also wanted to tell her that had it not been for me, she wouldn’t have a job or a meaningless sign to point to in the first damn place.

  “Get Pamela on the phone, please,” I said.

  “Lady, I don’t have time for this. Can’t you see we are super busy? Leave your name and number, and I’ll get a message to Pamela for you.”

  “I need you to get her out here now!”

  “Lady!” The woman whipped around and threw a hand onto her hip. She shifted her weight to one side and gave me a look that could kill. “You are really trying me. I’m busy. I don’t have time to call Pamela right now. Now, I’ve already offered to put you in touch with her. That’s the best I can do for you,” she said.

  “I’m not moving an inch until you get her on the phone!”

  Several people in line threw up their hands and stormed away in a huff. When the saleswoman saw them go over to my RV, she fumbled and grabbed a phone.

  The chattering around me prevented me from hearing her entire conversation, but it was clear she was not happy.

  “I don’t know. Keeps yelling for you,” she said into the phone.

  She turned back and looked at me. The RV was still crowded, so she couldn’t move too far away.

  “Okay. I’ll tell her.”

  A few seconds later, she ended the call and turned her attention back to me.

  “Ms. Evans is at a meeting, but she says she’ll call you when she’s free. She also told me to tell you that if you continue to disrupt business she will have no other choice but to call security on you,” the woman said.

  That was when I lost it.

  45

  DARBY

  I felt like a wayward teenager who had to try and sneak back into the house after she had missed her curfew again. As I sped along I-10 toward my exit, I prayed that Kevin was not downstairs asleep on the sofa.

  For the first time since I woke next to Chandler, I was grateful that he had the wherewithal to come close to me. That meant I’d make it home in record time. Since the only people on the roads at that time of morning were obviously adulterers and shift workers, there was no traffic jam.

  I had never wanted a job so badly.

  Crazy thoughts flew around in my brain like frantic, trapped birds. What can I possibly say to explain away the fact that I’ve been out all night long?

  “Please, don’t let him be on the friggin’ couch!”

  Usually, when I was out with the girls, Kevin would meet me right at the sofa. When I had pried myself away from Chandler, who was still in a drunken fog, I tried to explain I had to go, and I wanted to kick myself. He knew better. Hell, I knew better.

  How in the world could I have allowed that to happen? Would it be wrong for me to pray to God for mercy in this situation?

  It was five-fifteen in the morning, and I had to hightail it home before my husband realized I had been gone all night. I didn’t even attempt to look at my cell phone. I had turned it off the minute I got off the freeway and slipped it under the seat of my car. There was no point in trying to retrieve it now.

  A layer of sweat blanketed my forehead, and I felt a trickle run down my back. My heart beat so fast and loud as I pulled up to our house, I could barely think straight. Then it dawned on me—I hadn’t showered! Chandler and I drank and fucked all over the room so many times, we probably passed out and fell off to sleep.

  “Damn! I can’t crawl home in the wee hours of the morning smelling like liquor and stale sex!”

  I stopped the car as I reached for the button on the garage opener. It was clear I hadn’t thought the situation through. It dawned on me that there was no way I could put my car back into the garage. That’s where it was when Kevin and the boys left earlier, or actually, yesterday.

  If I opened the garage door, the sound would wake Kevin and the boys, and there would be no question that I had just made it home. I decided to take my chances and park on the street. It didn’t matter that I never did that. Desperate measures called for desperate actions.

  After I parked the car, I searched for the wet wipes I kept in the middle console. I snatched a couple sheets from the packet and tried to wipe my lover’s scent off my body.

  That didn’t help since the moist towelettes left me smelling fresh. Suddenly, I didn’t know what would be worse. It seemed like I couldn’t stop messing up. If I couldn’t explain away the scent of sex and alcohol that seeped from my pores, how would I explain why I smelled so refreshed at the crack of dawn?

  “To hell with it all!”

  I eased out of my shoes when I stepped out of the car. The air smelled dewy fresh and felt damp against my skin. Barefoot, I calmly padded my way up to the door. With sunrise on my heels, I quietly unlocked the front door and slipped inside. When I realized that the entire house was still calm and quiet, I released a breath that felt as if I had held it trapped in my lungs all the way home.

  I could’ve cried tears of joy when it became obvious to me that I had literally made it home scot-free.

  Quietly, I removed the top from the large basket near the door and dropped my shoes into it. Kevin was upstairs, so I crept into the laundry room and grabbed a sheet. It didn’t matter that it was dirty. I eased onto the sofa and pulled the sheet over my body.

  Moments after I had closed my eyes, my heart froze when I felt sudden brightness flood the room.

  “This shit has got to stop!”

  Busted!

  Fear gripped my heart like a vise, and I didn’t want to open my eyes. I wondered how long he’d stand there as I hoped my pounding heart didn’t crack my ribcage. I couldn’t continue to live the way I had been going for the past few months. It was time to come clean.

  “You don’t know how to answer your phone anymore, huh?” he asked.

  Visions of my life, as I knew it, flashed before my eyes as the end drew near. I didn’t budge. Fear rippled up and down my spine.

  “You and your girls need to realize you’re not in college anymore, dammit! You come sneaking up in here like I wouldn’t know that you’ve been out damn near all night?”

  My eyes snapped open. My entire body was flushed with heat as Kevin’s words ran through me. I was totally taken aback. The only question I asked myself was whether I was going to accept the obvious help God had graciously handed me.

  I turned my head toward my husband, who stood with a justified scowl across his face. Just when I thought I didn’t have the stamina for lying anymore, some words upchucked and spilled from my lips. It was as if my brain and lips took on a life of their own. I had been ready to throw in the towel the minute the bright lights blared on, but suddenly, I heard myself say, “Peta is really having a hard time right now, that’s all,” I murmured.

  I purposely averted my eyes as I spoke.

  For a long time, he didn’t say anything. And that awkward silence forced me to look at him. Kevin’s jaw tensed. He gulped and stared back at me, seemingly unable to speak. He jerked his head sideways, and I braced myself for the worst. He angled his body, edged past the sofa, and strode toward the front door.

  Without another word, he threw the deadbolt, flicked off the light, and grumbled under his breath before he grasped the railing and barreled up the steps.

  I fell back onto the sofa and tried to calm myself.

  46

  IVEE

  An entire week had passed since I had seen Geneva. I didn’t know if she avoided me intentionally, but I didn’t go out of my way to search for her either. In my mind, everyone was either against me, or they were busily thinking up ways to try and bring me down.

  Zion and I moved
around our house like two strangers who needed to get out of each other’s way. It really bothered me, but since most of our conversations ended in yelling matches, I decided I’d keep my thoughts, fears, and ideas to myself.

  I had to admit, being home on Thursday evenings was already a foreign concept to me, but our awkwardness made it even stranger.

  “You need something?” he asked.

  We had been in the living room watching the local news on TV when a story about a drunk driver who killed a deputy came on. I was tempted to change the channel, but luckily, Zion hadn’t uttered a word about it. In the midst of all my complaints and all my rumblings, I was grateful to God that no one was hurt or killed when I got arrested.

  “No, I’m good,” I told him.

  “Okay. Running to the store. I’ll be back.” He got up, put on his tennis shoes, grabbed his keys, and walked out of the door.

  Once alone, I began to think about how I needed to protect myself at work. Ted had simply asked for a copy of my work contract, but I still hadn’t heard back from him.

  I had been tempted so many times to feel sorry for myself, but when I thought about what Kyle had done to Peta, or the mess Darby was stuck in, I tried to look at the bright side of my own horrible situation.

  It hadn’t been easy, but I had started to drive again. I still didn’t drive to work, but I did drive to the Metro Park and Ride lot to get on a commuter bus that took dozens of professionals into downtown Houston.

  For a change, I decided to do something I had avoided for far too long. I picked up my cell phone, dialed a number and waited.

  “Heeeey, stranger!”

  “Hey, Felicia, girl, I’m so sorry about the last time we were talking. I looked up and saw Geneva’s butt standing there listening to my doggone conversation,” I confessed.

  “Uh-oh,” Felicia said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Has she struck yet?”

  “No, and you know that’s what’s killing me the most. The wait for the other shoe to drop ain’t no joke when it’s one of Geneva’s spiked heels. Well, I don’t have to tell you. You know exactly what she’s like.”