“Eight.”
Freddy looked at his watch. “My dear, I think you’ve been stood up.”
Marybeth burst into tears. “I feel like such a fool. I told everyone I had a date. I called my boys…” She wiped her eyes smearing her mascara even more. “I’m sorry, I’m bothering you. I’ll let you guys go …”
“No.” Grace stopped her. “We’re just getting home. We had dinner at the Dawson’s.”
“The Dawson’s?” Marybeth asked. “Oh, my. Did you.. Did you meet the children yet?”
At that instant, the second she finished her sentence, thunder blasted and lightening flashed.
Freddy looked up. “Oh, that was weird.”
Grace opened the door. “Let’s just get you inside.”
+++
How many times did Bobby flip open his phone, find Grace’s name in his contact list, and start to dial her?
Too many to count. But he never dialed and he flipped the phone closed. A process he repeated at least ten times.
He couldn’t call her. Not yet. She really hadn’t been gone that long.
Laying on his bed, he raised the remote control and turned on the television.
There was a knock on his door. “Come in.”
The door opened and Clyde walked in. Immediately he shut off the television that set on Bobby’s tall dresser. He moved items over on the dresser, keys, cologne, and brush, to make room for his arm when he leaned there. “Got a minute?” Clyde asked.
“Sure.” Bobby sat up.
“It’s Friday night. I thought …. I thought you told your mother you were taking Grace out for a drink tonight. Not beer.”
“I did tell her that. I’m not.” Bobby shook his head.
“Can I ask why?”
Bobby laughed.
“I thought you two clicked.”
Bobby laughed again. “Dad, she didn’t say a word all night. Not a word.”
“How the hell was she supposed to? Eight people around that table and that Freddy guy never shuts up.”
“It wasn’t the Freddy guy. Dad, I’m Thirty-six years old. I live at home with my parents and my three kids.”
“And she works at Bargain-Mart and lives in a trailer. Next.”
Bobby smiled. “Dad …”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Bobby. Don’t.”
“What about the kids?”
“What about them?”
Bobby sighed out.
“You think she can’t handle the fact that you have kids?” Clyde asked.
“No, I think she can’t handle my kids. I can’t handle my kids.”
“They’re easy. Just weird.” Clyde said. “She’s ... she’s weird, Bobby.”
“I know.”
“And did you notice. She isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
Bobby chuckled.
“She let Larson drive her around, without a second through mind you. Did you notice every time is was brought up that you’re a painter, she corrected you and said artist.”
Bobby nodded.
“When you were putting the baby to bed, she said she would love to see your work. Well, I thought, OK, here’s my opportunity to set her straight, since she wasn’t getting it. So I took her down to the office. Thought I’d show off the fresh yellow paint job you did. I opened the door and said, here is my son’s work. Flat out forgot that hanging above my desk was the Black velvet, paint by numbers, painting of the dogs, your mom did in 1983.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yeah. She raved about your work all right. Didn’t have the heart to tell her.”
Bobby laughed.
“You dated Betsy Ann since high school. You married her. She left you. Any other women you tried didn’t work out.”
“I know this.”
“You have odd children, Bobby. Ever stop to think the missing ingredient is an odd woman. You’ll never know unless you ask and try.” Clyde grabbed Bobby’s keys from the dresser and tossed them his way. “Go pick her up.” After a wink, Clyde walked out.
Bobby jingled his keys in his hand in thought.
+++
Grace knocked on Freddy’s bedroom door. “Guys, you’ve been in there for a while. I want to see.”
“In time.” Freddy called back. “I am in the middle of a creation, Art takes time, you know this.”
Grace folded her arms. “What exactly are you doing do her?”
“Giving her self esteem and making her gorgeous.”
Grace bobbed her head.
“Princess, why do you apply a fresh new layer of loveliness, change your clothes and join us?”
“I don’t know,” Grace said. “I really would like to try wings again but …”
“But what?” Freddy asked.
“Polly said about Bobby taking me out for a drink. He never asked or called. Do you think I blew it tonight?”
“Yes.” Freddy said.
Marybeth retorted. “That’s not nice, Freddy. How do you know she blew it?”
“She never spoke. If I was introducing my children to her and she didn’t interact, I’d not want anything to do with her either.”
“True. But, those kids …” Marybeth whistled. “Grace, why don’t you call him?”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can,” Marybeth said from the other side. “Tell him to meet us there or come here. Maybe he’s just afraid he scared you tonight.”
“You really think I should?” Grace asked.
“Yes, what’s the worse that can happen? He turns you down.” Marybeth chuckled. “It can’t be any worse than me. I got stood up.”
“True. Ok. You know what? I will. Thanks guys.” With each step she took to the living room for her phone, she drew up some courage and went over the words in her mind. Reaching for her phone on the table, she stopped when the doorbell rang.
She answered it. “Bobby,” she said brightly.
“Hey.”
“Hey, come on in, you’re getting all wet.” She opened the door wider.
“Thanks.” Bobby stepped inside, wiped his feet and flung some water off his hair.
“I was just getting ready to call you.”
“Really?” he asked with surprise.
“Yeah, Marybeth got stood up. Freddy is giving her a makeover right now and they’re heading down to the Hubba.”
“Are you going?”
“Only if you would go,” Grace said. “I was calling to ask.”
Bobby smiled. “I was stopping by to ask you the same thing.”
“So I didn’t blow it tonight?” Grace asked.
“You blow it? I thought I blew it.”
“How?”
“By exposing you to too much too fast.”
“No, it was different. Your kids are different.” Grace smiled. “And since neither of us blew it, I’m gonna go get ready. Wanna have a seat?”
“Sure.” Bobby walked to the couch.
Grace lifted the phone. “I have to call Freddy and tell him we’re going.”
“Where is he?”
“In the bedroom.” Grace began to dial. “Oh Bobby before I forget. I loved your painting of the dogs. Clyde showed me. I was so impressed.”
Bobby’s mouth just dropped open. Grace turned and walked away. He could only laugh at her remark, and at her phone call to Freddy who was only a few feet away.
+++
When they finally left the house, it was close to eleven. Grace and Bobby followed Marybeth and Freddy to the bar. Bobby wanted to stop and check on the kids. Grace didn’t mind. They didn’t have to do much. Polly was awake and on the computer, the kids tucked in for the night.
They headed into Medina.
The Hubba Baloo Saloon looked packed, and Freddy paid two young men ten dollars each to give up their table. That was how they got the one where they did.
Marybeth kept looking at herself in the mirror, and Freddy kept reassuring her. They’d wait for Bobby and Grace to arrive, before getting anything to d
rink.
Finally they did.
The music was loud and so were the patrons, but they managed to finagle was further back from the dance floor. The only downfall to that was the fact that they had to walk quite a distance from the bar.
Marybeth and Freddy picked up the first round.
From the bar, they kept an eye out on Bobby and Grace. They didn’t seem to be speaking much, but then again, they did drive out to the bar together. Freddy and Marybeth made it a point that they would have to invoke conversation, possibly play some conversational games to get those two moving in the right direction.
They ordered the beverages and each carried two.
Marybeth set down the two drinks she had with a ‘whew’, “I feel so different tonight.”
Grace said, “You look different.”
“Wonderful’ Freddy added.
“Thank you, Freddy. Just a part of me feels naked without my hairspray.”
“But it works for you,” Freddy said. “Now a man can run his fingers through your hair without getting stuck.”
Marybeth giggled.
“Imagine, the passionate sexual moments now. And you’ll get out of bed without the wild woman look held in place, courtesy of Aqua net.”
Bobby groaned.
Craig Barnet approached the table. “Marybeth is that you? Wow.” He cased her. “You are looking hot.”
“Thank you, Craig.”
“Would you like to dance?”
Freddy extended his arm. “Not tonight gigolo, she’s my date.”
“I thought you were gay,” Craig said.
Freddy gasped. “Gay? Me? Please. If I weren’t such a gentleman, I’d slap you. But, not in front of my lady.”
“Sorry.” Craig lifted his hands. “I’ll let you two be.”
Marybeth’s eyes widened. “Craig Barnet just checked me out.”
“And once we get you in that playing hard to get phase,” Freddy waved out his hand. “You’ll be the bell of the Baloo.”
Marybeth giggled. “Did you all see who else was here?” She dropped her voice. “Theresa the cop.”
Freddy looked “Where?”
“Over there. Don’t look.” Marybeth shook her head. “I don’t know how she does it with all the scandal.”
Bobby, who had been silent, spoke up. “She’s probably used to it.”
“Scandal?” Freddy asked. “What scandal?”
Marybeth explained. “There’s always scandal about her and the Chief. She was his secretary and suddenly she’s his head deputy. Didn’t even go to police school or anything.”
“The latest one,” Bobby said. “Is she was having sex in the cell with the Chief.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “There are only two cells. Which one?”
Bobby shrugged. “They supposedly got it on video tape. Who knows? And I don’t know which cell.”
“I bet it was the one I was in,” Grace said and shuddered.
“Don’t forget about the one with the Chief and the Rite Aid girl,” Marybeth said.
“Or the teacher.” Bobby added.
“Wow,” Freddy commented. “The Chief is a sexual beast.”
Bobby laughed.
“This is so much fun,” Marybeth gushed. “It’s like a double date. Grace, can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.”
“Bobby, hold your ears.”
Bobby laughed.
Marybeth asked. “If this is too embarrassing, don’t answer. But with you being allergic to yeast and all, what happens if you get an infection.”
Bobby winced. “Guys.”
“Cover your ears.” Marybeth told him. “You don’t want to hear. Cover.”
Bobby took a drink of his beer.
“Infection?” Grace asked. “You mean like yeast infection.”
Loud, Bobby whined.
Freddy replied. “It’s her biggest fear. Can you imagine such a terror breading within her own body. If a little bear and bread made her nuts. Imagine…. That’s why Grace never changes up her laundry soap or has sex.”
Bobby hesitated before drinking. “Is that true?”
“A-ha!” Freddy pointed. “There goes your plan, huh?”
Bobby just looked at him.
“He’s lying,” Grace said.
Marybeth asked. “Which part? The infection fear? No sex?”
“I don’t fear getting an infection; it’s a different type of yeast.”
Bobby cringed.
Freddy spoke up, “But she doesn’t have sex. Not by choice.”
“I have another question,” Marybeth said. “You don’t need to cover your ears on this one, Bobby.”
“Go on,” Grace said.
“If Bobby is drinking beer and it has yeast, and you’re drinking alcohol which works badly with yeast. What happens when he kisses you? Will you get a bad reaction?”
Grace titled her head. “I don’t know.”
“You all should experiment just for future references.”
“I’ll remember that for when we kiss.” Grace smiled.
“You all haven’t kissed yet?” Marybeth asked.
Both of them shook their heads.
“Oh. You have to kiss. Kiss her, Bobby. Why don’t you get that awkward first kiss moment over with?”
Freddy added. “Yes, I’d like to see Grace’s lips on a man or even a woman. It would prove to me she’s not asexual.”
Grace’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“No, no, princess,” Freddy said, pushing her mouth close. “You have to wait for him to approach you with his mouth before you open up.”
Grace huffed.
Bobby stared at Grace, smiling. “Ok, why not.” He leaned to her.
“Wait!” Freddy called out. He slid from his stool with a beverage napkin and walked to Grace. He proceeded to wipe off her lipstick. “Don’t want you two looking like something out of Texas Chain Saw Massacre.” He stepped back. ‘Go on.”
Bobby slowly leaned to Grace. He caught fro the corner of his eyes, both Freddy and Marybeth staring. “You know what?” He grabbed Grace’s hand. “Let’s dance.”
Grace listened, a slow song played,and without reluctance, she agreed, following Bobby to the dance floor.
“God, the pressure,” Bobby took Grace in his arm, keeping a semi safe distance, as he cupped her hand.
“Sorry about that.”
“No, I’d like to kiss you. But not... like that.” He moved with Grace to the music. “So I think Marybeth likes Freddy.”
“I do, too. I don’t think she gets the gay thing.”
“Me either,” Bobby said. “It’s her naivety.”
“Speaking of which. Is it true, you married your high school sweetheart?”
“Yes. Bobby said. “Kind of geeky, I know.”
“What? No. God. I find that a very attractive quality about you.”
“Does it offset the unattractiveness of my girls?”
“Bobby, that’s wrong,” Grace said. “They aren’t that bad.”
Bobby stared at her.
“Seriously, they’re just ... different.”
“And I’m glad they aren’t different enough to keep you away.”
Grace shook her head. “It’s a way of life that I find interesting.”
“In all seriousness, Grace …. They’re my life. I want to have someone in my life, but I want to have them in my life with my kids without a problem.”
“You don’t think I know this?” Grace asked. “Bobby, my dad was a widower. He raised me by himself. I know how it is, from both ends.”
“But my girls …”
“Your girls are who they are,” Grace said. “Whoever you choose to be in your life will know that. And it will all work out.”
Bobby smiled. “You’re pretty special, Grace.”
“So are you, Bobby.”
“And …” Bobby nodded. “You liked the velvet painting.”
“Oh, Bobby, you have so much talent.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing at all.” He kissed the top of Grace’s head, and brought her into him closer.
He wanted to tell her she was wrong. That she was the one with the talent. Not writing, not dancing, but a talent for seeing a different side to things and people. Maybe, just maybe Clyde was right. Maybe Bobby did need someone different to fit into his life. Someone like Grace. Thinking that, he danced more relaxed and with Grace a bit tighter to him.
CHAPTER NINE
Frustration was an understatement. Despite the fact that Chip tried to have an informal meeting, people still mumbled between themselves and he couldn’t get silence.
“Bill,” Chip said. “You’re moving to hardware today. Freddy, you’ll be going to sporting goods.”
Freddy choked. “Please say that once more.”
“We’re moving you to sporting goods.”
Freddy stood. “You can’t move me to sporting goods. I know nothing about sports. I want to stay in men’s. Women’s, OK, I’ll go there. Children’s, doable, housewares a stretch. But not sporting goods.”
“Why are you so against that?” Chip asked.
“Hello! I’m gay!” he sang out.
Finally, silence hit the room.
Freddy looked around the room. Everyone stared at him. “None of you knew that?”
Nobody answered they just stared in shock. As if he were some sort of anomaly.
Freddy blinked. “You people act as you’ve never seen a gay man.”
Bill spoke up, a burly guy, with a beard and pot belly. “Actually, Fred, I don’t think there’s a gay man in Ohio. Not Medina County.”
People mumbled in agreement.
Freddy laughed. “Please. Hello. He’s gay.” Freddy pointed to a man, then to another. “And he … he wants to be gay, but just doesn’t know how to go about it...”
The second man nodded. “That's true. I was looking for instructions on the net.”
Chip cleared his throat. “Fine, Freddy, I’ll leave you in men’s clothing.”
“Thank you,” Freddy sat down.
“Good news for you, Grace, We got a division that will work.” Chip said. “I wanna try women’s underwear.”
Silence.
Freddy laughed.
“What?” Chip asked.
Charmed Life Page 14
