by Leslie Pike
“I’ve been working with her. Bing too. She’s a little better with the jumping.”
“You’re a good girlfriend,” I say, undoing my seatbelt.
Oh shit. Did I just say that? The look on Dominique’s face and the open-mouthed shock makes us both crack-up.
“Shit,” I say. “It just popped out.”
She reaches over and kisses the tip of my nose. “I’m glad it did. I like the idea.”
“What I’m about to say, I mean in the most romantic way,” I tease.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to eat your pussy tonight extra good.”
She starts laughing. “Oh, really?”
“It’s only right. I’m your boyfriend, after all.”
Her smile is response enough. As we exit the car, and I grab ahold of an excited Cali, Dominique is smoothing her skirt. She’s so fucking cute. I like that she’s nervous. It’s the new “girlfriend of the brother” role that’s throwing her. She doesn’t realize Kim and I never interfere with our romantic choices unless absolutely necessary. Like with Donna. My sister made her opinion known that time.
But this is worlds different. When I told Kim about Dominique and me, she was not that surprised. Said we made a great couple and wanted her to come visit. That alone shocked me because she looks and mostly feels like shit. I don’t understand women. And really, there is only one I care about, and she’s walking beside me now. Cali is going ape shit, straining to get inside.
I give a few raps on the door, and when I hear Kim’s voice calling us inside, I swing the door open. Letting Dominique pass first, I bring Cali inside.
“Hi, people. We finally made it.”
Kim is sitting in the recliner I bought for her recovery. I know it’s not her kind of furniture, but at least I tried to get it as close to stylish as possible.
“Dominique! Hi!” she calls to her old veterinarian slash new friend.
“Oh! I’m so happy to see your face.”
They exchange cheek kisses. Dominique takes her hand and sits on the chair beside her. Bringing Cali to Kim, they greet each other like the old friends they are. Cali does a gentle sniff and doesn’t attempt to jump. Kim offers a bone that sits on the table.
“Let her loose, Maxen. She’s fine.”
I do, and Cali trots swiftly to the corner of the room with her treat. Food always trumps people in Cali’s universe.
“My God, what you’ve been through, Kim. How are you doing?” Dominique asks.
“Better every day. Well, maybe not every day. It took us about a week to get in our groove. But now we have a routine.”
“The Warden lays out the schedule,” I say, peeking around the corner to see where Arlene is lurking.
Kim shoots me her shut the fuck up look by way of pursed lips and flared nostrils. It only encourages me.
“We are allowed one trip a day around the yard, and it’s lights out by ten.”
“Shut up. We are not! He’s exaggerating, Dominique. So you and Maxen, huh? You know he can be a big pain in the ass, right?”
The sudden turn in conversation takes both Dominique and me by surprise. But I’m interested in what her answer will be.
“I haven’t experienced that yet. But we’ve just arrived at the ‘I sure do like your ass’ stage.”
This tickles my sister to no end.
“I hear ya. He is kinda cute, and I may be slightly exaggerating about how annoying he can be. He’s a pretty good guy. A woman would be lucky to have him.”
“Okay. Let’s stop with the discussion of me as if I’m not here. I’m gonna make some lunch, and we can have it out back.”
I am getting better at this cooking thing. If you can call assembling sourdough bread, cheese, and turkey cooking. I included some potato salad from the deli, which I doctored with a little Parmesan, so that might qualify. Oh, and we have pickles too. I’m practically Julia Childs. If I could come up with a famous male chef’s name, I would, but for now, I’ll be Julia.
Kim sits on her favorite chaise while Dominique and I take the table under the yellow umbrella.
“Your garden is beautiful, Kim,” Dominique says, looking around at the well thought out plantings.
It’s a small garden, but there are lots of colorful plants, and the way she designed the walkway and patio looks good. When she told me she would tackle making a pond feature, I thought she was way over her head. But when I saw what had been created, it was impressive. Kim has never been afraid of getting her hands dirty.
“It’s my thing. Hunter had to be bribed to help do the plantings this Spring, but that’s to be expected. My child is becoming less interested in the things that interest me and more interested in things teenage boys have on their radar.”
“Bing is the same. We used to watch this cooking show that he loved. We would try to recreate whatever they made that day. But it’s all fallen to the wayside. It kind of makes me sad.”
I look at the sad faces. “You two are funny. Do you really think you’re going to hold a candle to girls?”
Shots fired! The expressions change. Now they are ready for a fight.
“Girls? They aren’t there yet. They don’t even have hair on their balls,” Kim says firmly.
“Denial is not a river in Egypt.” I smirk.
Dominique laughs. “As much as I hate to admit it, Maxen has a point.”
“Thank you.”
“A few days ago, when Bing came home from band practice, he was practically upbeat.”
“About what?” Kim asks.
“Apparently, there were girls at Trevor’s house. You know, the groupies watching while the boys played their music.”
“Thirteen-year-old groupies? Where are their mothers and fathers?”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. These girls are as innocent as the boys are. They can hardly look directly in the boys’ eyes.”
I listen as the women comfort each other by believing the lie that their kids are still children.
“Oh hell, you’re both screwed now,” I add.
My sister looks stunned.
“You’re not surprised, are you?” I say. “This is the way it should happen. They are in puberty. Lots of sensations ‘down there’.”
“I’m going to cry!” Kim teases.
“It’s all happening too fast. Are you sure? Just a minute ago, Bing was only interested in skateboards and video games.”
I take a bite of my sandwich and dip my chin toward her. “This new game’s more fun.”
Chapter Eleven
Dominique
Community theater has been my thing since I was a kid. But only as an audience member. There are zero acting chops in my DNA. I prefer to be entertained than to entertain. My mouth goes dry whenever I have to speak publicly, and I can only imagine what would happen if I was on a stage, a spotlight illuminating my crippling fear.
Finding out Maxen has only seen professional touring productions, and those could be counted on one hand, gave me a great idea. Let’s have a night at the theater. And we’ll bring Hunter and Bing. I really want to show them how accessible and professional community theater can be.
Finding a play we could take the boys to was the hard part. Not so much because of content. But because picking something thirteen-year-old boys would be interested in took some digging.
They’re too old for the children’s theater choices and too young for Virginia Wolfe. Not that they would not love the swearing. So, we settled on something that would shock them enough to hold their interest, but not so adult that they’d be scarred for life.
Smyrna Community Theater’s offering for August was limited but doable. We decided on Victor/Victoria. I’m the only one who has seen it, so it falls to me to be the judge. Yes, there are adult themes. Yes, there is naughty behavior. But this will be the perfect opportunity to address those issues as they pertain to real life. I’m hoping it will open conversations.
I need to talk to Bing about those issues. A funny musical
is an ideal vehicle. Maxen suggested we take the boys for an after-theater dessert. That’s where we can get their take on what they saw and guide them to a mature response. I can hardly wait to hear what the boys have to say.
We considered inviting July’s oldest boy, but it was quickly rejected. First of all, I don’t want to talk to someone else’s child about cross-dressing or any other hot button topic. That’s a parent’s prerogative and job. Secondly, too many boys in one place could ruin the experience. They would be laughing through the entire thing. A man in women’s clothes? A cockroach planted in a lady’s salad? Oh God, it would be a shitshow. We will have enough to handle with Bing and Hunter.
“All right, you two, make sure you’ve used the bathroom before we sit down. There won’t be any chances to leave your seats after the play begins. Not till the break.”
They look like lambs before the slaughter. Uncomfortable in their clothes and dress shoes for sure. It’s been a summer of bare feet and swim trunks. That has been the norm. Tonight, as we stand in the theater lobby, Hunter and Bing want the time to fly.
I catch them checking out the huge poster of Victor/Victoria in drag. Something is said under Bing’s breath, and it makes Hunter push him away. Then they laugh. Lord. I don’t even want to know. The tinkling sound of bells tells us it’s time.
“Come on, boys, let's get our seats,” Maxen says.
Once inside, it is obvious the magic of the theater is already making an impression. There’s a buzz of anticipation and conversations in the audience as everyone finds their place. Both boys are looking over the playbills and reading about the actors. I am too.
“Oh, look! The lead is one of my clients. Brittney Baker. She’s a pistol,” I say, showing the smiling photo to the boys and then to Maxen.
The lights dim.
Two and a half hours are eaten up in minutes. At least that’s what it has seemed like. I feel a notch in the win column because the boys love every minute of the musical. Of course, they are. Maxen and I are too.
I’ve got to hand it to Brittney. She can sing and dance, and she has comedic timing. She can even portray a humble character. That’s acting. When the curtain closes on the final scene, the applause rises. It’s heartwarming to see the boys respond so enthusiastically. They will not forget this.
“The actors are going to be in the lobby, mingling with the audience. You guys want to say hello to Victor/Victoria?” Maxen asks.
“Yeah!” Hunter says with more energy than I have ever seen him have.
“Let’s go get a drink, and we’ll wait for her. You can see how different her personality is from the character she portrayed.”
That was about the kindest way I could say that.
Walking out of the theater into the lobby shows we aren’t the only ones who have chosen to wait for the meet and greet. I’m not sure anyone has left the building.
“I’m going to get us drinks. Hunter, come with me.”
They leave, and Bing and I find a good spot to hang out by the cast and crew entry. I motion to Maxen so that he sees where we are sitting. It takes at least ten minutes for them to return. I’m handed a white wine, and Bing gets his Coke with a cherry floating inside.
“Here they come,” I say, eyeing the actors entering the room. “There she is.”
She starts to pass by us when I say, “Hello, Brittney.”
She turns, and for one second, before she settles on my gaze, she looks at Maxen and smiles.
Oh, hell no.
“Dr. Grant! Hi! I’m so happy you came to see me!”
I don’t want to burst her bubble, so I ignore the misconception.
“You were wonderful. We thoroughly enjoyed the performance. This is Maxen.”
“Hi. You were great. We all loved the play.”
“Well, hello there.”
Her words somehow sound sexual. I’m pissed but must stay calm as if it isn’t bothering me.
“And who are these handsome guys?” she says, looking at the boys.
Her list of admirers has just grown by two. Maybe it’s the low-cut top and the pushup bra she must be wearing.
“This is my son, Bing. And his friend, Hunter.”
A few beats pass where they do not respond. I’m pretty certain Brittney’s boobage is temporarily freezing their brain cells. I place a hand on Bing’s shoulder to prompt his response.
“Hi,” he says with a naughty smile.
“Aren’t you just the cutest?” Brittney says.
Oh, Lord.
“I know who you are, honey,” she says to Maxen.
He’s obviously surprised. “You do?”
“Oh, yes. Wait, let me see if I can find her … oh! Donna! Over here!”
What is that expression on Maxen’s face? Annoyance? Some sort of panic?
Walking toward us is one of the dancers. I recognize the costume, but the mask she wore onstage is gone. Damn, she’s a beauty.
“Hello, Maxen,” she says, coming to his side. “This is a surprise.”
She leans in for a cheek kiss.
“Hi, Donna. Yeah, I’m shocked.”
Brittney looks like she is enjoying the uncomfortable moment. “I saw you in the audience, Dr. Grant, and I pointed you out to my friend here. When she said she knew your date, I practically fainted!”
“It’s a very small world, isn’t it?” I say, holding back my own annoyance.
Maxen places his arm around my waist.
“This is my girlfriend, Dominique. And this is Bing, her son, and Hunter, my nephew.”
I have no right to be pissed, but I am. Donna completely ignores the introductions. So, I do too. Bing knows his mother’s face and is watching me like a hawk.
“When did you move back to Tennessee?” Donna says.
“I haven’t. I’m here to help Kim. She was in an accident.”
“How awful. Give her my love, please.”
You can take your love and drop-kick it into Georgia, you asshole.
“I will.”
An awkward pause hangs in the air, and I’m not about to fill it.
“So, I’m still at the same number. Call if you’d like to have lunch and catch up,” Donna offers.
Son of a fucking bitch. I look at Maxen and wait for him to respond. He looks uncomfortable. Too bad. Handle it.
“I’m only here for a short time.”
Why didn’t he say no? It is very simple. I would have handled it differently. I’d have said to an ex who was trying to hone in my date, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. But hope you are doing well.’ Cut and dry. No room for misinterpretation. I want to kick him in the balls.
She lays a hand gently on his forearm, and my blood pressure rises. Brittney looks like this is going exactly as planned. Donna lays one more cheek kiss on Maxen.
“Well, if you change your mind, give me a call. It was nice meeting you all.”
She makes eye contact with us for the first time. Then she walks. Was that a smug look I got, or am I reading too much into the scene?
Our first fight will have to be scheduled for another time. I can’t address the situation here in front of my child or anyone other than Maxen. But my blood is boiling. I feel his eyes on me, but he can go kick a can. I put on a fake smile and continue as if nothing has occurred.
“Well, Brittney, as I said, it was a special evening for us. I expect wonderful reviews. We’re going to head out. These two boys are hungry.”
I lean over and air-kiss her disappointed face. I believe she was looking for my negative reaction. The girl is a drama queen, and her after play performance didn’t have the response she was looking for. If she knew how angry I am, she would be ecstatic.
By the time Bing and I get back home, my annoyance has built from a rock pile to a mountain. Maxen’s last words to me were, ‘I’ll call you.’
“Mom, are you mad at Maxen?”
I’m a fool to think my child was going to let this slide or miss what happened.
“A
little mad.”
The truth is usually the best. Bing and I rarely keep secrets that don’t need to be kept.
He kicks off his shoes, then picks them up.
“Cause of that lady that kissed him?”
“Because I didn’t think he handled that right. He wasn’t clear enough in his response. But this is just the kind of thing men and women have to work out. I need to make sure Maxen knows what kind of behavior I expect.”
He gives me the side-eye.
“What? You think I’m overreacting?” I’d like to add, ‘what do you know about adult relationships?’, but that’s my pride talking.
Bing looks me directly in the eye and lays out his take.
“I think he was polite, but he sounded like he wasn’t going to meet her. He looked kinda pissed when she wanted to. Besides, he likes you, Mom.”
Once again, it isn’t the time to get picky on the language. I want Bing to always be able to talk with me about these kinds of personal topics. My son factors in every decision I make. Choosing a mate being the most important.
“Okay, smarty pants. I’m going to go call him and have the uncomfortable conversation.”
He looks pleased and turns to head for his room.
“Hey!” I call to the retreating figure. “Thanks. You helped me.”
I walk into my room and toss my purse on the bed. When I’m halfway undressed, the cell sounds. Maxen’s calling.
“Hi,” I say, sitting on the bed.
“So, let’s talk this out. I know you’re mad. You completely changed after that happened.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Hopefully, you’re going to give me more than one syllable answers. I understand that took you by surprise, but it did me too. How was I supposed to know she was there? It’s not like I arranged it.”
“I don’t like that you didn’t make it crystal clear that you were not interested. You just told her you couldn’t because you didn’t have the time.”
His chuckle pisses me off. Royally. “Do not laugh.”
“I’m not laughing at you, Dominique. That isn’t who I am. I am laughing at the crazy idea I would want to be with any other woman but you. Don’t you know that?”
