I stared at the door, trying to figure out what was going on.
Then I realized I might only have moments so I twisted, grabbed the phone and put it on the bed.
Then I dialed Ralphie.
* * * * *
Ralphie was the closest thing I had to a friend.
He probably wouldn’t describe me as a friend, more an employer which was what I was.
Three years ago, I opened an art gallery. The Feds didn’t get that either as I’d opened it with my trust fund and my father didn’t launder money through it though they looked and looked to find some nefarious purpose for my gallery so they could seize it, like they did everything else, but they didn’t find anything because there was nothing to find, I made certain sure of that.
I opened it because I needed more to do with my time than just be Daddy’s Little Princess which was getting old and I had an art degree from Denver University so why not?
It turned out, I was good at it. I had an eye for art and I could put on a really good opening. I’d had years of practice at being a good hostess always standing next to my father’s side so you could imagine how pleased it made me that something he taught me eventually came in handy.
I hired Ralphie and in my gallery, which I named “Art” because I really don’t have much of an imagination and it kind of said it all, Ralphie and I had fun. He knew he was my employee and everything but he was good to be around, he was a bit crazy in a nice way and we’d have a laugh.
Ralphie was a tall, slim, blond-haired, blue-eyed, ultra-elegant, unbelievably beautiful gay man. Swear to God, he could be a male model. Not kidding.
We didn’t socialize outside of work.
Of course, every year, I did take him and his partner, Buddy, out for a fancy dinner at Christmas during which I gave Ralphie his Christmas bonus. I also took him and Buddy out for a fancy dinner for Ralphie’s birthday during which I gave him his birthday present, a beautiful, pink Armani dress shirt with matching pink and maroon tie (year one), a Royal Doulton figurine (year two) and the glass paperweight he had his eye on for ages at Art but couldn’t afford (year three). I also took them both out for drinks to celebrate after we made that sale of the beautiful, bronze sculpture of the female torso. We’d had that sculpture for months, it cost a fortune and it was our biggest sale ever.
Oh, and Ralphie and I would always do his performance evaluations over French martinis at the Oxford Hotel Cruise Room. The evaluations lasted ten minutes so Buddy always joined us because, well, why not?
Buddy was yin to Ralphie’s yang.
Buddy was black, bald (shaved), had a thick goatee and a well-maintained, very muscular body. He was Butch with a capital “B” and he dressed like Freddie Mercury (white wife beater tank top, super-tight jeans, black motorcycle boots and studded black belts) when he wasn’t dressed in scrubs (he was a nurse on the Neurosciences Ward at Swedish Medical Center) or dressed to go out with us to fancy dinners and the Cruise Room (Buddy looked good in his Queen Front Man getup but you didn’t wear a wife beater to the Cruise Room, no way).
Buddy was funny too and really sweet. Kind of a gentle, butch, Freddie Mercury on steroids look-alike except black and, well… bald.
Although Ralphie wasn’t my friend, technically, nor Buddy, for that matter, he was all I had.
And I needed someone.
* * * * *
“I’m at Denver Health,” I answered Ralphie.
“What?” Ralphie screeched and in my mind I could see his blond eyebrows hitting his hairline.
“It’s okay. I just had a little accident,” I lied.
“An accident that puts you in the hospital? Oh my God.”
“It’s nothing,” I assured him. “Just observation. They’re letting me go today.”
Ralphie instantly responded, “I’ll be right over.”
“No!” My voice was sharp and my eyes were glued to the door. Hector or Daisy and Marcus could walk back in at any moment.
I had enough to deal with I didn’t need Ralphie showing up. Ralphie could be a bit… dramatic.
“What do you mean, no?” Ralphie asked.
“I mean, actually, I’m calling because I need you to do me a favor. I’m sorry to ask but –”
Ralphie interrupted by saying, “Anything.”
I blinked in my tense surveillance of the door at Ralphie’s quick offer of assistance. What could I say? I hadn’t had a load of times in my life where anyone offered me assistance. Heck, I hadn’t had a load of times in my life where anyone offered me anything.
I shook off my surprise and said, “There are spare keys to my apartment in the drawer at the gallery.”
“I know where they are.”
“Could you go to my place, get me some clothes, shoes… um, underwear and bring them to the hospital?”
“I’ll do it right now.”
For some reason, his words made tears sting my eyes.
“I’m going to be in testing,” I lied again also blinking again this time for a different reason. “So, could you just leave them at the nurse’s station?”
“Sure, but I can –”
“No, no, I don’t want to waste any more of your time.”
“Sadie, it isn’t –”
I interrupted again. “No really, it’s okay. The testing could go on for awhile.”
Ralphie was quiet then he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, fine, just a small accident, banged my head a little. I might be out of work for a couple of days though.”
Or weeks, but I’d come up with other excuses later.
“Okay,” Ralphie agreed but he didn’t sound like he bought it.
I drew in a silent breath then on the exhale I thought of something else.
“Just so you know, my place is a bit of a mess –”
“Now, Sadie, that I don’t believe. You are Queen Clean.”
That sounded more like the Ralphie I knew.
“No, it’s just that –” I started but Ralphie cut in.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch because I’ll see a speck of dust. I promise, I won’t report you to the Tidy Patrol if you left a bowl in the sink.”
“Ralphie –”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“Ralphie –”
“Toodles.”
Disconnect.
Oh my.
Oh well, I’d figure out some excuse for why my apartment looked like…
I stopped thinking about what my apartment looked like and more importantly why and set it aside. I’d deal with that later too.
I put the phone back, pulled the cover up and then laid back, thinking of what to do next so I wouldn’t think of all the things I was trying not to think about.
Then the door opened. I immediately closed my eyes. I heard footfalls, footfalls that stopped by my bed.
“Sadie, sugar, you asleep?” Daisy’s country twang whispered.
I pretended to be asleep.
Now, Hector being there was bizarre beyond bizarre but Daisy and Marcus being there was bizarre on top of bizarre.
They hated me. Why were they there?
“I think she’s asleep.” Daisy was still whispering.
“Sleep is good.” I heard Marcus’s deep voice say.
Silence.
I waited for them to leave. Then I heard a feminine crying hiccough which was followed by a masculine, “Sh.”
It took all the Powers of the Ice Princess not to open my eyes and tell Daisy I was okay which I was not, but some lies were good, I’d learned that from loads of practice too.
I listened to Daisy cry and Marcus soothe her for awhile then he said, “You’ve been here all night. Let’s get you home.”
Thank God. Finally.
“No,” Daisy’s voice was clogged with tears, I could tell even on that one word. She kept talking. “I’ll just go down to the gift shop, get a magazine and stay with her. Hector said he won’t be back for awhile.”
At least that was so
mething.
“You sure, darling?” Marcus asked.
Daisy didn’t answer but I heard footfalls again, the door opened and closed.
I opened my eyes. I was alone. That was until whenever Daisy got back with her magazine.
I thought about how much energy it would take for me to understand what on earth was going on.
Then I realized, just before I fell asleep (for real this time) that I didn’t have enough energy to figure it out.
* * * * *
I opened my eyes and saw Daisy sitting in the chair where Hector slept.
She was wearing shoulder-to-toe dark denim, fawn-colored fringe falling from the shoulder pads of her blazer, more fringe down the sides of her skintight jeans. She had on fawn-colored, spike-heeled, platform, round-toed boots, her jeans tucked into the boots. There was more than a hint of rhinestones and rivets sprinkling her outfit everywhere.
She looked like she was going to get up and start singing, “Jolene”. Instead, she sat, legs crossed and read National Enquirer.
Darn. Now what?
I couldn’t feign sleep and avoid her forever. Or could I?
“Sadie?”
My eyes moved to Daisy’s and she was looking at me.
There was the answer, I couldn’t feign sleep and avoid her forever.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I sat up and lifted my good hand to pull my hair away from my face. When I dropped my hand, my hair tumbled back in my face again.
I sighed.
“Let me get that,” Daisy said softly and I looked at her again.
Her Enquirer was on the chair; she was up and digging through her purse. She yanked something out and dumped her purse on the night table.
She showed me a big, pale pink clip.
“Voila!” she said as if she’d pulled a rabbit from a hat not a hair clip from a handbag.
“Turn your back to me,” she ordered and even I wasn’t Ice Princess enough to tell her to go jump in a lake.
I turned my back. Her hands went through my hair, her long fingernails gently scraping my scalp.
It felt nice. It reminded me of when I was little and my Mom used to brush my hair at night before I went to bed. Sometimes when my Mom would brush my hair, she would tell me stories. Sometimes they were funny stories, sometimes romantic, sometimes adventurous. I used to love when my Mom brushed my hair and told me stories.
Daisy carefully pulled and scraped my hair for longer than was needed then she twisted it and I felt the clip go in.
Her hands went to my shoulders and she gently turned me around to face her. When I did, her eyes were on my hair. Then her gaze dropped to mine.
“All better,” she said.
“Not even close,” I replied.
There she was, bitchy Ms. Townsend rearing her ugly head.
Daisy’s teeth bit her lip and her eyes sparkled with tears.
“Sadie, sugar –” she started but before she could say more the door opened and Hector walked in.
Really, no more, I got it. I was the daughter of a Drug King, a bad man who probably destroyed many lives. But seriously, how much penance could a daughter do for her father’s sins? I mean, I didn’t sell heroin to school kids for goodness sakes!
I’d had enough.
I picked up the call button thingamabob and stared at it, found the button for the nurse and pressed it.
Then I saw Hector’s belt buckle and abs by the bed.
Darn.
“Sadie,” Hector called.
I kept my head down and hit the nurse call button again.
“Sadie,” Hector repeated.
My head came up and I looked at him.
“Why are you here?” I snapped.
He opened his mouth to speak but before he could I turned my head and looked at Daisy.
“And why are you here?” I asked her.
“I thought I’d –” Daisy started.
“No, actually, I don’t want to know,” I interrupted, reached out and grabbed my IV stand thingie. Then I threw back the covers and scooted to the side of the bed, rolling my IV with me. It hurt but I did it anyway and I didn’t even wince.
“Sadie, get back in bed,” Hector ordered but I had my legs over the side and I stood up.
I walked two steps, wheeling my IV stand thingie with me (the IV stand thingie kind of bit into my bid for Queen Ice but I’d just have to work it).
I turned to them, hand on my IV stand and stood my ground.
“Both of you, leave,” I demanded.
Daisy’s eyes slid to the opposite side of the bed where Hector was standing. My eyes went there too. He didn’t look happy.
“I’ll ask you again, mamita, get back in bed,” he said.
“That isn’t asking, that’s telling,” I retorted.
“Then I’ll tell you again, back in bed,” he shot back.
“No,” I replied.
He started walking around the bed… toward me.
I wondered, in the nanosecond before I started retreating, why he seemed completely unaffected by my Chill Factor. Everyone else went into deep freeze.
Not Hector.
I had, of course, noticed that his body was preternaturally hot. Maybe that was it.
“Hector,” Daisy said softly as Hector advanced.
Something in her tone must have reached him because all of a sudden he stopped. So I stopped too.
Hector and I squared off and went into stare down mode. While we were doing this, Daisy came forward cautiously but didn’t get too close to Hector or to me.
“Sadie, we’re here –” Daisy started.
Again I didn’t let her finish, my eyes broke from Hector’s dark ones and cut to her.
“I know why you’re here.” I motioned to Hector. “And I know why he’s here. You wanted to get a good look at how the mighty have fallen.”
Daisy’s body jerked like I hit her at the same time I saw her flinch.
Hector didn’t flinch. His eyes narrowed, his face went dark and let me just say, it was scary.
Nevertheless, I was on a roll. I was beyond Ice Princess. I was Sorceress of the Antarctic and a bitchy one at that.
It hurt me to do it. It hurt more than my body hurt. But I had to.
I didn’t know why they were there and I didn’t care. It started like this, people being nice, doing nice things maybe trying to be kind.
It never ended like that. Never.
I went on, “Well, you had your look. Now you can go.”
Totally ignoring my order to go, Hector took a step forward. I took a step back.
He stopped. So did I.
We went into stare down again.
Finally he said, “The police are here.”
That surprised me but I covered before it could show.
“Why?” I asked.
Then Hector answered, “So you can swear out a warrant so they can go after –”
At his words, Sorceress of the Antarctic disintegrated, melted in an instant and I lost it.
Utterly.
“No!” I shrieked so loud and shrill I was surprised the TV screen didn’t burst.
He couldn’t say it. Not out loud. Not to me.
I retreated again.
“Oh sugar,” I heard Daisy say, her voice trembling but Hector was coming at me and I kept my eyes on him.
His face wasn’t dark anymore, there was something else there, something I didn’t want to see.
I closed my eyes to block it out, lifted my hand to ward him off, all the while wheeling my IV stand thingie and walking backwards. My back hit the wall.
“Mamita,” Hector murmured gently when I stopped. He didn’t touch me but he was close enough I could feel his heat.
With nowhere else to go, I turned my head away.
“Sadie?” another voice called.
I opened my eyes and peered around Hector’s body. I could see both Ralphie and Buddy standing just inside the door.
Hector stepped to the side and I saw them ful
ly.
Ralphie was carrying an overnight bag. Buddy was carrying a huge vase of exquisite white calla lilies, my favorites.
They were staring at me and they looked pale (yes, even Buddy, I didn’t know black people could go pale but he did).
“Sweetie?” Ralphie said hesitantly.
Even though he called me “sweetie” (and he’d never called me “sweetie”), Ice Princess clicked into place.
“I’m okay,” I said immediately.
One second Ralphie was across the room. The next second I was in his arms.
“Oh Sadie, sweet ‘ums. You didn’t have an accident, did you?” he asked, his voice whisper-soft, one arm around my waist, the other hand stroking my back.
“Ralphie, I’m fine.” I held my body rigid and spoke to his throat.
He leaned back and looked down at me. “Sweetie, you are not fine. I can see, can’t I? I didn’t go blind in the night like a bad Jodie Foster movie. And I just got back from your apartment. It’s a disaster. What on earth happened? Who did this to you?”
This was not working well for me. It was all coming at me. Everyone was talking about it. How could I set it aside to deal with it later when people were talking about it?
“I’m gonna break his fuckin’ neck.” Buddy was now at our side.
I turned my head and looked up at Buddy, he got a close look at my face and I saw his teeth clench.
Then he repeated between his teeth, “I’m gonna break his fuckin’ neck. Who did it?”
“I’m fine,” I said again.
“You have a cast on your wrist,” Ralphie pointed out and I looked back at Ralphie.
“I’m fine,” I repeated.
“You have a bandage on your face,” Ralphie went on.
I could take no more and really, could you blame me?
So I screamed, “I’m fine!”
Ralphie had never seen me lose my cool, never, therefore at my scream he winced. Then for some reason, he ignored my Chill Factor. His arms got tight and he pulled me close.
And no one had held me like that for as long as I could remember.
And I couldn’t bear it anymore.
I shoved my face in his ultra-elegant shirt and clenched his uber-stylish suit jacket in my good hand and I cried.
I didn’t care who saw me. Not even Hector.
Fuck it. I could take no more.
Rock Chick Regret Page 5
