Girlfriends

by Patrick Sanchez

  Gina was mortified, and she wasn’t about to beg him to stay. “Small breasts? Funny thing for a guy with a small dick to say.”

  “Oh, that was necessary. I’m outta here,” Karl snapped, pulling his shirt off the floor and heading for the door without bothering to put it on.

  “Don’t let the door hit ya in—” Gina couldn’t finish before the door shut behind Karl. She sat there, staring at the door, upset and confused. She was totally stunned, and all of a sudden her mind flashed to that fateful night with Griffin. She thought about how she had felt that night and how disgusted she was with Griffin and with herself. She had just wanted to kick him out before the sex was even over. God! Was that how Karl felt about her? Did he take her home and suddenly decide he was too repulsed to have sex with her? Was she that horrible that a guy had to run out on her right in the middle of a heated encounter? Dennis had just told her how beautiful she was a few hours earlier. How was she supposed to believe that? She felt like Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby. Of all the billions of people on the planet, why had the devil picked her to torture?

  As Gina sat upstairs, hopelessly trying to understand what had just happened, Karl slipped his shirt on in the elevator and walked out of the lobby. As soon as he was outside the building, a beat-up Ford Escort drove up next to him, and the driver rolled the window down.

  “Get in. How did it go?” called a short lesbian with a bad perm from inside the car.

  “Exactly according to plan,” Karl responded.

  “Move over, Silky,” Annie continued, picking up the cat and putting her in the backseat to make room for Karl.

  The Truth Comes Out

  Dennis had dropped Linda and Rosa off a few hours earlier. The couple were lying on the sofa, watching Saturday Night Live. Rosa was feeling much better.

  “Thanks for including me tonight. It meant a lot to me,” Rosa said.

  “I’m glad you went. I had a good time,” Linda said, glad to be home. She really had had no burning desire to go to the reunion in the first place, but she knew she’d catch hell from Gina if she didn’t go. Linda was generally content to stay at home and watch television or curl up with a good book.

  This is where she was happiest—lying on the sofa with Rosa, totally relaxed. It was nice to leave events like her reunion with someone—to have someone to talk about the event with on the way home, and someone to snuggle up with after it was all over. She and Gina used to talk about how you could always tell who was single at social events. The single people were always the last to leave. The married couples might show up and make an appearance, but they would only stay briefly because they had someone to go home with. Half the time the janitor had to sweep the single people out with the trash to get them to go home.

  Watching television with Rosa, Linda thought about how lucky she was. She didn’t have to stay late at parties anymore to avoid going home to an empty apartment. Things really seemed to be clicking with Rosa, and Linda was starting to think they might really have a future together.

  “I don’t think Gina likes me very much,” Rosa said.

  “Don’t be silly. She’s just lonely and worries that I won’t have time for her. She’d never admit it though.”

  “She must really hate me for prompting you to leave the party early.”

  “Actually, I don’t think so. You probably scored some points. It gave her the opportunity to get a ride home with Karl Mullins.”

  “Do you think there was something going on there?”

  “I’m sure if Gina had anything to say about it, there was. I’ll call her in the morning and get the dirt. Maybe we can meet her for brunch if you’re feeling up to it.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  “Have you been to the doctor? You’ve been under the weather for a while now.”

  “Yes, I’ve been to the doctor. I go once a month. That’s what we pregnant women do.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry to blurt it out like that, but I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you for a while.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “I found out just before I moved here.”

  “Well . . . care to splain, Lucy?”

  “God, where to begin? You know Renée and I were together for quite some time before we broke up.”

  “Well, unless Renée sprouted testicles, you’re losing me here.”

  “Last year we came to a decision together. We decided we wanted to start a family. Well, with nature’s limitations, we certainly couldn’t do it on our own, so we started to investigate the whole sperm bank thing. We decided that I would carry the baby. Needless to say, I went to the sperm bank numerous times but never got pregnant.”

  “Well, you obviously got pregnant at some point.”

  “Yes, I did. When it finally took, and I got the results, I was so excited I ran home in the middle of the day to tell Renée. That’s when I met Bianca. She was the cleaning lady I had hired a few months earlier. Even though I hired her and wrote the checks, I’d never met her. Renée was always there to let her in. Anyway, I walked in the door, eager to tell Renée the news, and found her in her Victoria’s Secret best. I saw Bianca’s cleaning basket on the floor and asked Renée what was going on. She said she forgot the cleaning lady was coming and hadn’t bothered to get dressed. ‘So, you changed from your nightshirt to a skimpy teddy instead?’ I asked. I heard some clunking in the bathroom and went to open the door. Bianca was scrubbing the bathtub. She was completely nude.”

  “Nude?”

  “ ‘Ah . . . may I help you,’ I asked her, and she said, ‘No, thank you, ma’am,’ and continued cleaning the tub as if the whole scene were perfectly normal. She tried to tell me that she didn’t want to get her clothes wet while she cleaned the tub, so she just took them off. She had a harder time explaining why she had taken them off in the living room and scattered them all over the place.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “Yes, the whole thing was so ridiculous. I told Renée she had a few days to find another place to live, and I went and stayed with my parents for a while. When I got back, she was gone, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

  “Don’t you think you should tell her about the baby?”

  “Hell no! She sealed her fate the moment she banged the cleaning lady. She has no claim to this baby. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Linda. It just isn’t a comfortable thing to talk about.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  “So, what do you think?”

  “Gosh, I don’t know what to say. It’s quite a surprise.”

  “Do you still want to see me?”

  “Of course I still want to see you,” Linda said, not really knowing if she did or not.

  “Oh, thank God. I really like you, Linda, and don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t. Unless, of course, you hire me a sexy lesbian cleaning lady,” Linda joked, trying to sound like she wasn’t bothered by Rosa’s news. Couldn’t Rosa have prepared her a little? She just blurted out the news of her pregnancy like she was announcing the weather forecast.

  I should have known it was too good to be true, Linda thought about her relationship with Rosa. Something had to come along and complicate it. What was she going to do with a pregnant girlfriend? If she had known Rosa was pregnant from the beginning, she never would have agreed to go out with her. After all the craziness with Karen and Julie, she didn’t need to take on something like this. But it was too late now. She couldn’t just walk away.

  Another Morning After

  Gina was still in bed. She was awake but had no intention of getting up anytime in the near future—if ever. The evening before—an evening she had anticipated for months—was a complete nightmare. Her whole class probably knew she couldn’t get a real date to the reunion. She thought the evening was salvaged when things began to click with Karl Mullins, but that whole scene ended up rivaling the Hindenburg disaster. Her phone had been r
inging since ten A.M. It was probably Linda, but Gina did not know for sure. After the phone rang for the fourth time that morning, Gina made a mental note to herself to get caller ID, and picked up the receiver.

  “Hello.”

  “So, is he still there?” cackled Dennis from the other end of the line.

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “Linda said some hot guy who used to play football at your school agreed to take you home.”

  “Oh, Karl. Why would he still be here? Last night was the first time I’d seen him in ten years,” Gina said as if the idea of her letting a guy she’d just met stay over was ridiculous.

  “Karl? Not Karl Mullins? The guy I saw you dancing with before Rosa got sick? I had no idea that was who Linda was talking about.”

  “Yeah, he said he’d take me home while you played nursemaid to Rosa.”

  “Well, I guess he’s not there, huh? Not much chance of getting lucky with him.”

  “What do you mean?” Gina asked.

  “What do I mean about what?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Dennis. Why isn’t there much chance of getting lucky with him?”

  “Ah . . . perhaps because he’s queer as a three-dollar bill.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t know? You danced with him, Gina. He’s good-looking, buff, and has rhythm. How could you not know?”

  “You know for sure he’s gay?”

  “Unless straight guys started rowing on my gay rowing team, yes, I know for sure he’s gay.”

  “Thank God!” Gina sighed with relief.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Why didn’t you tell me he was gay?”

  “I didn’t get a chance. Besides, I thought you knew. Gina, you know more gay people than I do. I figured he was just one more of your many homosexual friends.”

  “So, I’m the ultimate fag hag eh?”

  “Fag hag, maybe. The ultimate fag hag, certainly not. You’d have to gain at least a hundred pounds and wear black everywhere to qualify for that title. I’ve been rowing with Karl for more than a year now. I didn’t realize he went to the same high school as you—until last night anyway.”

  “You seem to know a lot of people who went to my school—Karl, Jennie Parks.”

  “Actually, I must know another one. At least I think she and Karl went to the same school. I’ve heard them reminiscing about it here and there. I didn’t see her at the party last night though.”

  “Who?”

  “I forget her name. She’s the coxswain for our rowing team.”

  “What the hell is a coxswain?”

  “She basically sits at the front of the boat and shouts orders at us to keep us rowing in unison. It’s a great job for a pushy lesbian. I’m surprised she and Karl didn’t go to the reunion together. They’re very tight. God, what is her name? Annie something-or-other, I think.”

  “Oh, my God! Not Annie Harrison?”

  “Yes, that’s it. Annie Harrison. She and Karl are really good friends. They drive down to the river together every morning.”

  “You are fucking kidding me?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Listen, Dennis, I’ve got to go. Let me give you a buzz later,” Gina said, hanging up the phone and shaking her head. She wanted to be angry with Annie—the little bitch had engineered the whole embarrassing evening with Karl—but Gina just sat in bed next to the phone and couldn’t help smiling. First of all, she was relieved that Annie had put Karl up to humiliating her the night before. At least she really didn’t have bad breath, and he had no intention of sleeping with her from the very beginning. But beyond that, Gina was impressed with Annie’s ingenuity.

  Gina called information and asked for Annie’s number.

  “Hello.”

  “Annie?”

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “Gina Perry. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” Annie said after hesitating for a moment.

  “Yes, I bet you are.”

  “Is there something I can do for you, Gina?”

  “Beyond last night? No, I don’t think so.”

  “Last night? What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t worry, Annie. I’m not mad. I had it coming.”

  “Worry. Why should I worry?”

  “Okay, Annie, let’s cut the crap. You got me back, and I must say you’re a real pro. I could learn a lot from you.”

  Annie laughed. “Yeah, I am pretty good, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, you definitely have an evil mind. Are you an Aquarian by chance?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. How did you find out I was behind the whole thing?”

  “Let’s just say Karl and I have a friend in common.”

  “Well, women are always hitting on Karl, and I figured you’d fall victim to his charms like every other girl. Besides, I had backup plans if that one failed.”

  “Like I said, I deserved it. It was a pretty awful thing I did to you. If it makes any difference, I was unbelievably drunk, and I’m really sorry.”

  “Apology accepted. But why? Are you some kind of homophobe? Do you regularly hang out at gay clubs and lure away poor, unsuspecting women just to dick them over?”

  “Homophobe? Hardly. Like I said, Annie, I was really drunk and, I’ll be honest here, I was unbelievably jealous of you in high school. I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought it would make me feel better about my high school experience if I did something mean to you. It was really stupid, and I was wrong.”

  “Yes, you were, but what’s done is done. High school seems a world away now. Funny how things turn out.”

  “Yes, they never work out as you’d expect them to.”

  “Or would like them to.”

  “Right again,” Gina said, realizing how easily she was chatting with Annie.

  “Well, I appreciate the apology, Gina, and let’s just call it even. Maybe our paths will cross again sometime.”

  “Maybe,” Gina replied, realizing the conversation was wrapping up. “Annie, would you like to go to lunch or something sometime?”

  “Sure. You have my number. And, Gina, just in case this is some warped plan to get back at me for the Karl incident—don’t even think about it.”

  “Annie, I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t mess with the master,” Gina said. And she really meant it.

  Strictly Business

  Peter had gotten into work early that morning. He needed to be there before anyone else to take care of the stinky flowers that Plant Lady in the cube next to him insisted on displaying on her desk. Peter wasn’t thrilled to sit next to a jungle of potted plants, but he was never really bothered by it until Plant Lady brought in some scented geraniums a few days earlier. Peter was very sensitive to smells, and the geraniums had a pungently sweet aroma. Many in the office enjoyed the scent and asked Plant Lady what smelled so wonderful; however, Peter was convinced such a strong odor was making his nose run and might eventually lead to one of his dreaded sinus infections.

  He considered asking Plant Lady to take the geraniums home after explaining his allergies to her but figured she might take offense to such a request and decided to take care of it on the sly. He pulled a small container of bleach out of his briefcase and stepped into Plant Lady’s cube. He felt a little sleazy doing it, but nonetheless, he proceeded to pour a few ounces into a cup so he could more easily drain it into the pot. The bleach had a strong smell of its own, and, after catching a whiff of it, Peter wished he had used some other mechanism. Maybe saltwater or weed killer would have been a better choice. Oh, well, at least it would be done.

  Peter felt a tinge of remorse as he lifted the cup, but he decided this way was best. The plant would drop dead in a few days. Plant Lady would have to get rid of it. The stench would be gone, and no one would be the wiser. He tipped the cup over the pot, and just as the bleach was about to flow, he tilted it back the other way.

  Damn, he thought to himself. He just couldn’t
do it. He could freak out in the middle of a crowded restaurant and beat up a bigot, but he couldn’t kill a stupid plant. If Plant Lady was a normal person, it probably wouldn’t have been a problem. But her plants were her babies, and he didn’t have it in him to kill her pride and joy.

  After the whole plant fiasco, it was time for Peter’s vitamins, so he went to the kitchen to get some water. On the way, he stopped by his mailbox and removed a letter marked “Confidential: To Be Opened by Addressee Only.” The envelope piqued his curiosity, and he opened it immediately. It was a letter from the director of Human Resources. As he scanned the letter, his face began to flush. He recently applied for a promotion to the position of departmental supervisor. He’d been with the company for years and was virtually functioning as a supervisor anyway. He trained all the newly hired staff and monitored their work. He also handled all the major research projects. It was his job for the taking. It would have meant a nice raise and, more important, an end to cubedum—he would finally have an office.

  The letter informed him that due to the recent written warning placed in his personnel file regarding abuse of his Internet privileges, he was not eligible for the promotion. He also would be unable to apply for any promotions or position changes for one year from the date of the warning.

  Peter was livid.

  That bitch! That fucking bitch! That fucking Cameron Hartman! With Gina’s help, Peter had put a few benign things in place to aggravate Cameron for having him written up, but now he was beyond mad. He was ready to bring out the big guns and really get back at her. It was just a matter of figuring out how.

  As Peter tried to sort things out, Cameron Hartman arrived at her cube a few floors below. She was usually in early but was delayed by three different moving companies coming to her front door, wanting to load up her furniture and take it to her new house in Indiana. Cameron had no intention of moving and had never been to Indiana. She thought they might have had her confused with one of the neighbors, but all the orders had her full name and correct address. Someone was obviously playing a joke on her. Between the movers and the person who had repeatedly been calling her house and breathing into the phone, she was beginning to get a little paranoid. Just as she was sitting down to her desk the phone rang.