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Afraid of Her Shadow

Page 4

by Carol Maloney Scott


  He studies my glare and responds, “I didn’t think she would hear me.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You’re the CEO! If you have disparaging things to say about the employees, go home and tell your wife.”

  “I can’t do that. If I told my wife an employee was fat, she would smother me in my sleep. She’s no beanpole herself.”

  I picture smothering him. Sometimes I bite my tongue so hard blood could drip out of the corner of my mouth.

  “And look at most of the women in your office. Cecilia was your admin and she weighs about ninety pounds. Now you have Amanda, the little princess waif. You promoted Claire, too.”

  I catch Tim smiling while staring at my widening middle. Or is that just my own paranoia?

  I ball my hands into fists and say, “What are you looking at?” I exhale loudly and avoid the middle school behavior of huffing and stomping my foot. I get up and walk to the door. “I sent you a calendar invite to meet with the company’s lawyer.”

  Amanda pretends to be engrossed in a spreadsheet as I shoot past her. I reach the elevator and out pops Gina. “Hey, you look pissed. What’s wrong now?”

  I can’t tell her the full story, since it’s a confidential human resources matter, but I allude to nasty remarks and someone being in trouble.

  For the most part, she can figure it out. “I’m not surprised. Claire says Tim used to be the nicest guy. I don’t know what happened to him. I guess he’s happier when he’s managing a sinking ship. Now he actually has to lead. This place has gotten crazy since I first started. I’ve been considering throwing myself down the stairs to fake an injury so I can enjoy a restful hospital stay. That’s why I’ve been taking the elevator. Avoiding the temptation.”

  Temptation…Luke pops into my head. What was she saying? Oh, she wants to purposely injure herself on the job. “Your son would be motherless.”

  “He can microwave his own dinner.” She laughs. “Yeah, Tim is a bit overwhelmed. Bless his heart.”

  We both start laughing. “You love those sayings, don’t you?”

  “This ain’t my circus and those ain’t my monkeys.” I look at her quizzically and she adds, “That’s a new one I heard at country line dancing.”

  “You really embrace your inner southern belle.”

  “I’ve been here a long time. Eventually you give in. Although, you really haven’t.”

  “I am not country line dancing. I’m from Rhode Island. BUT you should join Meetup. Diane would probably love to host a night at a country bar. Why don’t you come to bowling tonight? Tony will be there.” I have been trying to lure Gina to Meetup with talk of Tony.

  “But didn’t you sleep with him?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  Gina waves her hand. “That’s bad. Wait, how many times? Never mind, I don’t even care. Maybe I’ll come. I can talk to Diane about line dancing. Actually, I think I might know her from The Midnight Cowgirl.”

  Gina’s haphazard train of thought indicates that she doesn’t need any more coffee today, but she has another steaming cup in her hand.

  I give her the bowling details and she promises to “try really hard” to come.

  “It depends on whether or not my son has any word problems in math. After a day of fun here, I get to go home and help Vinnie figure out how many frogs Joey has if the bus stops three times and an old lady sneezes twice.” Gina puts her hands on her hips. She must be a treat on parent-teacher conference night.

  Hours later, I arrive at Midtown Lanes. Bowling is every Tuesday night at this new, upscale bowling alley. It isn’t even fair to call it a “bowling alley.” The full bar area upstairs features live music and pool tables, along with the adult bowling area. Downstairs there’s a large family bowling area and a restaurant. Oh, and let’s not forget the arcade games. Steve loves those. I climb the stairs, and scan the room. There’s no band playing tonight, so the bar area is sparsely populated. This is not the case when a popular band like High Fidelity plays. Then you can’t slip a dollar bill between the bodies on the dance floor.

  We could bowl downstairs, but thank goodness Diane has the sense to reserve the upstairs lanes. It isn’t that I dislike children, but with the amount of drinking and adult conversation, our group belongs in the adults-only section.

  When I say “we” bowl upstairs, I don’t mean me. I come most Tuesdays to watch and hang out with Steve and our friends, but I don’t participate. It’s not my thing.

  “Hey, Rebecca! How are you?” Little dwarf-like Sherry comes running over to greet me, followed by Chris and Diane. Lately they’ve formed a trio.

  “Hi, have you start playing yet?” I find a place for my purse at the big table we’ve grabbed for the night.

  “We just picked teams and the games are about to start. Here’s your nametag!” Diane cheerily plasters my “Hi, I’m Rebecca” Meetup nametag onto my chest. These stupid things never stay on, and then I forget I’m wearing it when some jerk at the bar thinks it’s funny to call me by name. Of course Steve wouldn’t even notice, since he is so engrossed in winning. I mean playing.

  Chris looks me up and down and says, “Steve is over there. He’s been here a while.” Chris loves to inform me of Steve’s whereabouts, and everything else Steve related. It’s as if they were married for ten years instead of being casual friends through Meetup who went on one date. She has come a long way since then. It was nice of Claire to help her with a makeover, but now she seems to think she’s Miss America. But with fangs.

  I wonder if Gina’s planning on showing up. While I scan the room for Steve, I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Hey there, Beautiful.” Tony swoops in for a hug and a peck on my cheek.

  “Hey, Tony. I think my friend from work may come tonight. The one I told you about.”

  Tony shifts his beer to his left hand and makes the Italian “fingers pinching together” gesture made famous by the Godfather movies and the Sopranos. He lifts his fingers to his lips to show his delight. “Looking forward to it. Those pictures you showed me were pretty hot, and I bet she makes a good Sunday gravy. Fuggedaboutit.” Tony laughs because as an art professor he is the opposite of an Italian mobster caricature, but he loves to ham it up and play the part. He also does a great Stallone.

  I smile and say, “You’re a nut. Listen, where’s Steve?” My eyes dart around the flurry of bowling activity. Everyone’s busy searching for the perfect ball.

  “Do you want me to find him? I think he’s on that lane. Hey, Steve-o—”

  “No, don’t whistle.” I swat his hand away from his mouth before he engages in another clichéd Jersey boy behavior. I grab his arm and lead him out of Steve’s potential view. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay, I’m all ears.”

  I take a deep breath and plunge in. “You and Steve are pretty good friends, right? You eat lunch together at school sometimes? You bike with him?”

  “Yeah?” Tony looks nervous in that way men do when they fear they may be asked to rat out a buddy or even worse, examine feelings:

  “No, I’ve never seen him at a strip club. He was at church.”

  “Sure, Bob is faithful. That was his hairdresser.”

  “No, he didn’t drink too much last night.”

  “Smoking? Nah, that was just the rest of us at the poker, I mean, the tennis match.”

  “Of course he loves you. That’s all we talk about.”

  Grrr…

  I hastily continue before I’m spotted. “Well, I need to ask you about Steve’s—”

  “TONY, IT’S YOUR TURN!” Chris is all wide eyed and frantic, with Diane grinning next to her. Don’t these people know I have shit to deal with?

  Tony puffs out his cheeks and slowly exhales. “I gotta go, Becca. Listen.” He lowers his voice, “Give me a call during the week. We’ll talk.” He nods curtly and retreats. “Coming, ladies!”

  As Tony saunters off and I regain my composure, Gina arrives. She’s breathless from taking the stairs and squinting to loca
te the group. I wave to her and she finally sees me and smiles, while my phone begins buzzing in my pocket. Who is this now? I reach in and glance at the screen. I don’t recognize the number and it’s long distance. Hmm…I paid all my credit card bills this month…

  “Wow, between those stairs and the trek from the parking lot, I’m exhausted.” Gina looks fabulous in a black V-neck t-shirt and tight curvy jeans with elaborate bling on the pockets. Her hair is always perfect, even after a long day at the office. However, she obviously went home to primp and change. Since she’s here I can only assume little Vinnie figured out how many frogs Joey had on his own.

  “I know. I had to park in Lower Schlombolia. The gang’s all here. Let me introduce you around.” I lead Gina to the lanes, where I introduce her to all the people she would want to meet. And some she probably wouldn’t, like Andy. He’s a nice guy, but dancing with him is like getting thrown around like a sack of flour and squeezed like melons in a grocery store. Claire experienced this the night Andy flung her into High Fidelity.

  Tony takes Gina’s hand and tells her how happy he is to meet her, and he would love to buy her a drink and sit out the next game to get to know her. He’s smooth, my Tony. I mean Tony. My damn pocket is vibrating again and I still haven’t talked to Steve.

  “Hi, Love. Have you been here long?” Steve sneaks up behind me, pulling me close and kissing me sweetly. “I’ve been busy beating the pants off Tony’s team.” I wait out their witty, caveman exchange about winning and competition, as if bowling were as vital to survival as hunting the water buffalo to feed the village before the great frost.

  Steve turns back to me expectantly. I reply, “I’ve been here a few minutes. This is Gina.”

  Gina shakes Steve’s hand and gives him the once over. “Very nice. I’ve heard a lot about you. So you’re going to have a new furry friend?”

  “Oh look, it’s your turn, Honey. Gina, let’s go get a drink until the guys are done playing.” I drag her away to the bar, and Steve smiles at me. He always smiles at me, and probably doesn’t even care that I tell my friends everything. Still, Gina has such a big mouth, but that will help her with Tony because he has a big…

  “Hey, you’re coming over tomorrow night, right? To my place?” Steve wrinkles his brow to hold me accountable for my promise.

  “Absolutely, Honey.” I respond a little too brightly. “But I’ll see you before I leave tonight.” He returns to his soon-to-be victorious team.

  Gina and I grab a couple of barstools and order girly, fruity drinks.

  “He’s cute, Rebecca. You can’t fuck things up with him over a dog and some pictures.” She pauses and cringes. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a touchy subject.”

  “I’m going to try my very best, but fucking up has been my best skill for many years, at least in the men department. Anyway, let me give you the rundown on the Meetup people.”

  I go on to reiterate that I used to date Tony. Diane dated Andy, and Andy wanted to date Sherry, but he wasn’t tall or rich enough for her, even though she’s short and poor.

  Gina holds up her hand to stop me, wiping her mouth with her cocktail napkin. “Hold on. Jeez. This really is musical chairs. Actually, musical beds. Too bad Andrew turned out to be a lying bastard. I don’t know if I want to throw my hat in this ring.”

  I shift on my barstool and catch Steve looking at me from across the room. He mouths, “I love you.” I smile and turn back to Gina. “What? Oh, yeah. Well, that’s middle-aged single life in a small town, but I think Tony is going to be very into you.”

  “Tony and Gina. It sounds like a long running Broadway musical spoofing the mob. Or a Bon Jovi song. Wait, that’s Tommy and Gina. You know what I mean.” She waves her hands and almost knocks over her glass, which is empty. She orders another drink, and my phone buzzes again. This time I glance at the message.

  “Hey, is this still the number of the hottest lady in Richmond?”

  My breath catches in my throat and my mouth is instantly dry. I reach for my drink and I down it in one gulp.

  Gina notices my abrupt mood switch. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  I stare at my phone and say, “No, that’s tomorrow night. This is scary in an entirely different way.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Gina watches me as I stare at the phone like a mental patient. I glance over at Steve, who is busy high-fiving people, and grab Gina’s arm. “Bathroom. Now.”

  She trails along as I drag her. “Okay, Jeez. How bad do you have to pee?”

  We reach the ladies’ room door and I push it in, with Gina trailing. “I don’t have to pee! I need a ladies’ room conference.”

  “Ohhhh. I get it now.” She nods her head and purses her lips. “So what the hell is going on?”

  I proceed to tell her all about Luke, and how Violet saw him on the news. And how hot he is. Heavy sigh.

  “So you really were a cougar? I have heard rumors. Why is this such a bad thing? He’s just texting you. Why don’t you respond?”

  “I will, but I need moral support. Mostly to uphold my morals with my boyfriend right outside this door. Oh, shit. Actually he could be going into the mens’ room, and if they’re not playing another game, he’ll be looking for me.” My phone buzzes again. “Oh, dear God.” I check it and exhale. “It’s not him. It’s Steve. He says he didn’t see me at the bar, but they’re playing another game.” I clutch the counter for support.

  “You need to calm the hell down. This is not a big deal. You dated this guy a long time ago. He has probably aged, too, and you’re in love with Steve. Show some self-control.”

  “You just have no idea. I adore Steve, but with the problems I see looming for us, I fear my weakness.”

  Gina studies my troubled expression and folds her arms across her chest. “You’re right. I don’t know. Do you have a picture of Mr. Perfect Hot Guy?”

  I quickly sign into my Facebook account and find an old picture of Luke and me, right before we broke up. I flash it in Gina’s face.

  “Oh, my.” She’s blinking fast. “That’s really him? Jesus, Mary and Joseph on a stick. Wait, that’s an old picture. Google him and see what he looks like now.”

  I tap away on my phone and produce a Googled image from his recent TV appearances.

  Now Gina is leaning on the counter. “Wow, so this guy is here in town? Right now? Out there?” She points to the bathroom door, but she means the Richmond metropolitan area. “And he likes older women? Heck, I’ll let my hair go grey for him. Why don’t you tell him where you are and ask him to meet you here?”

  “WHAT? Shh…” I shush her, but really I am shushing myself. “I can’t do that. Steve is here. And what about Tony? Do you really want to date all the men I’ve slept with?”

  “If they look like that, then absolutely. I’m not picky. Tony can wait until I’m done with this guy.” She blinks hard as she dabs her forehead with a paper towel.

  “Don’t you understand? I am worried about my reaction to seeing Luke!”

  “Who’s Luke?” Sherry is standing in the bathroom with Diane and Chris right behind her. Fuck a monkey.

  “Nobody,” Gina begins.

  “Oh, I was hoping he might be a new Meetup guy. We really need some fresh meat around here.” She laughs and they all join in, except Chris.

  “So who’s Luke, Rebecca? And why would you worry about your reaction to him?” Chris smiles, but there’s malice beneath those purple shadowed eyes. She walks to the sink and the mirror distracts her momentarily. “What do you all think of this new lipstick?” As she admires herself, the other two are staring at me.

  “No, you guys misunderstood. We were talking about…the Bible.” Gina’s face is sweating more. I wish she were old enough to blame it on hot flashes, instead of her absurd lies.

  “The Bible? Do you go to church, Gina? I had you pegged for a Catholic. What with you being Italian and all.” Diane says Catholic as if she means Martian. “I didn’
t think Catholics read the Bible. My last boyfriend was—”

  “We were just talking about the Gospels and how Luke’s Gospel is very popular right now.” Gina stands up straighter. What in the hell is she babbling about?

  “Rebecca, you think you’re going to ‘see’ one of the Gospel writers?” Chris has forgotten about her lipstick to focus on grilling me.

  I laugh nervously. “No, of course not. I just meant that…did I say ‘see’? That’s weird.”

  Chris opens her mouth to reply, but Diane interjects. “Never mind all of that. I think it’s great you guys are going to church. Now that I have you all together—did you see they offer country line dancing here, too? We need to plan another Meetup event. Or maybe just a girls’ night out. I agree the men in our group are slim pickin’s lately.” Thank God for Diane’s overzealous organizer ways.

  “You know, Diane, I think I recognize you from The Midnight Cowgirl. Wednesday night line dancing?” Gina takes Diane’s arm and walks her towards the door. Sherry follows. Chris reluctantly tags along, only after giving me a look that says “I’m watching you.”

  No one even used the bathroom. I see why men think women are strange. “I’ll catch up in a minute,” I say to the closed door. I splash cold water on my face, but some of it gets in my eye. Son of a bitch, now my mascara is running and screwing up my contact lens. I regard my phone on the counter, mocking me. Daring me. Oh, what the hell. Gina’s right. This is no big deal. I can text him back. Maybe it isn’t him after all, and it’s some asshole I dated when I went through my “weirdos on the Internet” phase.

  I text back, “I wouldn’t say the hottest, but I’m holding up rather nicely. Who’s this?”

  “Luke. Surprise!”

  I drop the phone, inches from the sink. Thank God I’m not near the toilet. That’s all I need is my phone destroyed at this critical moment. I breathe super deep, as if I am attempting to inhale the entire ladies’ room, and write back.

  “So I hear you’re back in town. Evening news? Good for you.”

  “I joined your little singles’ group. Looks like fun. Are you at the bowling alley now? I just got done taping for tonight. Meet for a drink?”

 

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