by Craig Birk
Chapter Three
The Blair Project
1:53 p.m.
“Behind every good man there is a woman, and that woman was Martha Washington, man, and everyday George would come home, she would have a big fat bowl waiting for him, man, when he come in the door, man. She was a hip, hip, hip lady, man.”
– Slater, Dazed and Confused
When Alex called, Blair Williams was sitting at the kitchen table with her three-year-old daughter, Sarah. They were playing a Fisher Price game that helped kids learn European geography. Usually kid’s toys bored the hell out of Blair, but she found she was learning quite a bit with this one. Also, it allowed her to indulge her favorite fantasy about traveling to Paris with her husband Gary (usually she pictured Gary), driving through Bordeaux for a few days and then renting a villa high above the French Riviera. In these visions, her hair was a very dark brown (just like Penelope Cruz) and her body looked like it did before Sarah was born (sort of like Penelope Cruz).
Her real house was not a French villa but instead a perfectly nice three-bedroom, two-and-a-half bath home located in University City, about ten minutes northeast of downtown La Jolla. Though a stereotypical, peaceful, middle-class suburban neighborhood, it maintained a vibrant, young feel to it. Gary had lived in a similar house just around the corner when he was in college. In fact, a few of their current neighbors were college students renting houses. Blair usually thought this was cool, but was less happy about it when the girls renting across the street would wash their cars or water the lawn in outfits she thought more appropriate for a Britney Spears video. She had noticed the girls’ outdoor household chores often seemed to coincide with a rare decision by Gary to do some lawn maintenance.
Still, it was a nice neighborhood and she felt secure. The two hundred thousand dollars or so the house had appreciated in the few years since they purchased it didn’t bother her either. At twenty-eight years old, Blair considered her life a success so far. She had a good marriage, a beautiful daughter, and owned a nice home. What more could a woman ask for? Well, maybe the Gucci bag she had her eye on. And that trip to France.
Blair put down a piece of the geography game identifying Ljubljana as the capital of Slovenia and moved to pick up the cordless phone. “Hold on one minute, sweetie,” she said to Sarah cheerfully before answering. She wouldn’t be in as good of a mood in five minutes.
Alex was now sitting on a bus stop bench a half a block from the Jack in the Box. The bench was enclosed by two large advertisements and a small plastic roof. On his right side was a beautiful blonde girl photographed in black and white advertising Guess jeans. On the left was an unhappy-looking woman who was also photographed in black and white. This second display appeared to be advocating against domestic violence but Alex was not immediately sure because it was in Spanish and he was focusing on making a phone call rather than studying bus stop advertisements. His call was answered on the fourth ring.
Alex: “Hey Blair, this is Alex. How are you?”
Blair’s eyes instinctively narrowed at the sound of his voice: “Hi Alex. Gary is still at work.”
Alex: “Yeah, I know. Actually I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Blair: “Really? What is it?”
Alex: “Well, I want to ask a favor, but it isn’t for me. I’ll spare you the details, but the bottom line is that Mike met a girl and yada, yada . . . something crazy happened, and they are getting married next month. It is totally nuts. Really wacky stuff. I can barely believe it. Anyway, we want to give him a bachelor party and there are conflicts for the other weekends left, so this is the only possible time. A few of us are taking him out to Vegas tonight for a real quick weekend trip and I know it would mean a lot of Gary could come.”
“Mike is getting married?” Blair asked incredulously. Somehow in her mind this cheapened the whole institution of marriage.
Alex: “Yeah, it’s unreal. I can’t believe it either.”
Blair: “Why doesn’t Gary ask me himself if he wants to go to Vegas?”
Alex: “Well, Gary doesn’t even know yet. The whole thing just happened in the last few days. My guess is the booze outsmarted Mike and he just proposed in a moment of drunken inspiration, but really I don’t even know all the details myself. But I do know it would mean the world if G-Ball, I mean if Gary, could be there for this weekend. Since its so last minute I wanted to be in touch with you first, because I am sure you guys have plans already.”
Blair: “Yes, we are supposed to buy a new table for the dining room. Also new plates and steak knives for the kitchen.”
Alex: “Well there you go. See, I knew it. But the thing is you only get married once (laughs), though in Mike’s case the over/under is at two and a half. But seriously, it would mean a lot. Anyway, I will let Gary talk about it with you, but I just wanted to let you know the situation first so you know it isn’t his fault for the late notice.”
Blair: “Gee, that is sweet Alex. Okay listen, Gary can go, but make sure he stops by here first.”
Alex: “You’re the best Blair. Mike will really appreciate it.”
Blair: “Bye, Alex.”
Alex: “Thanks Blair. Say hello to Sarah for me. Talk at you later. Bye.”
