by Ann Roberts
“Sure. What’s up?”
He licked his lips and stepped closer so she could hear him as he said softly, “I think the way Pratul treats you is shitty. I heard what he did.”
She shook her head. “Well, thanks for that, Bump, but if you think it’s wrong, why do you go along with it? Why don’t you say something?”
His gaze dropped to the floor. “I know I should, but…”
“But what?” Addy asked sharply. She wasn’t in the mood for his pity.
“But nothing,” he finally said. “I don’t have an excuse. There’s just stuff going on that you don’t understand.”
She crossed her arms. “You know I just got suspended without pay, right? Just because I go a little off route each day to help someone, a woman who’s been sexually and verbally harassed by Pratul and doesn’t want to ride his bus. Why are you protecting him?” Her heart pounded. She wasn’t used to confrontation, but it felt like a rush.
He shuffled his feet. “Hey, I only go—”
“You only detour to your house twice a day to check on your cat.”
“She’s elderly. She has to have medication.” He looked at her suspiciously. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve heard you all talk. Half the time you guys don’t even notice I’m around when you’re telling your awful jokes, making your disgusting fart noises…or revealing your secrets. I know lots of things, but I’ve never told any of them to Jackie.”
They stared at each other until Bump looked away. He put his hand on his back and winced. “Can we sit for a minute? My back is killing me.” He motioned to a small table in the middle of the room. Once he’d lowered himself into a wooden chair that creaked under his weight, he said, “I’m gonna give you something you can use. You’ll never jam up Pratul on sexual harassment. He’s way too careful. But there is something else.” He leaned over the table and whispered, “Pratul deals oxy out of his bus.”
“What?”
“He’s selling drugs. I should know. Up until yesterday I was one of his customers.”
She couldn’t believe it. What Pratul was doing was so much worse than her simple policy violations. She thought to ask, “What changed yesterday?”
He mustered a slight smile. “I filed my retirement paperwork at the insistence of my neurosurgeon. My back has been trashed for the last five years. Had an accident out on my ranch. Doc has been watching my liver, and between the booze and the pills, the numbers aren’t good. He’s forcing me to retire. The only thing that’s going to get me some relief and help me kick the pills is surgery. And if I’m retired, I’ll have the time to recuperate. It’s a big surgery and I’ll need ten weeks of rest. No friggin’ way I could’ve taken ten weeks off work, so I just took the oxy to get by until I could retire.”
She couldn’t believe it. “What should I do? Tell Jackie?”
He shook his head. “No, don’t do that. She’ll have to follow company policy, and he’ll just stop selling for a while.” He tapped the table. “You need to think of something else.” He pointed at her. “But keep me out of this.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mazie felt like a parent leaving her child with the babysitter as she and Tango concluded a tour of the Bijou. They returned to the concessions stand and Mazie prepared the refreshments she’d take with her to Addy’s house. “You have the movie end times programmed into your phone, right?”
“Check,” Tango said.
“And you’re comfortable with the start and stop procedures for each film, right? Because Almondine really should stay out of the projection booth. She can’t figure out the digital projector, and she’s never understood how streaming works.”
“Got it. Don’t worry, Mazie. Just go enjoy your evening.”
Mazie took a breath. “Thanks. You know I appreciate you, right?”
Tango smiled and pointed at the licorice. “So you’re going on a date with Addy?”
Mazie looked away. “It’s not really a date…Well, maybe it’s kind of a date.”
“You two make a cute couple.”
Mazie stopped and faced her. “You think so?”
“Yeah.”
Tango looped her arm through Mazie’s and escorted her to the emergency door at the back. “Now, go. I’ve got this. I seriously doubt the Tuesday night crowd will be the downfall of the Bijou.”
“I know.” Mazie gazed up at the dark wooden crossbeams. “There’s just something special about this place.”
“There is. Now go.”
She got into her little Fiat, praying it started. It had conked out right after she arrived in Wilshire Hills, and she’d finally saved enough money to get the new belts it needed. When the engine rumbled, she smiled.
She managed to drive to Addy’s house—or rather, Addy’s landlord’s house—without spilling their drinks. Addy had told Mazie to text once she arrived, and Addy would come out the side gate, which was closest to the tiny home where she lived. Mazie sent the text and checked her makeup in the rearview mirror before heading across the lawn. She heard music and smelled the distinct odor of grilled fish.
The gate squeaked and Addy appeared, wearing a T-shirt and cargo shirts. She immediately took the bag of popcorn hooked between two of Mazie’s fingers. “Hey,” she said. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
“Oh, no. It was easy.”
Mazie followed Addy into a backyard oasis, across a trail of red brick pavers that cut through luscious green groundcover. Flags, signs, and nautical décor—oars and fishing nets—hung from the freshly painted wooden fence. Ahead was a tiny cute green house with white trim. A red rocking chair sat on the small front porch, inviting guests to have a seat. As they climbed the steps, Mazie looked over her shoulder toward a large redwood pergola bathed in soft light where two women enjoyed beers. One oversaw the grill while the other tossed a salad, her back to Mazie. The one at the grill, a dark-haired beauty with serious curves, turned and stared. Mazie offered a smile but didn’t think it was her place to call out a greeting. If Addy wanted to introduce her, she would do so.
Walking through the front door introduced Mazie to a completely different side of Addy. She’d known about the color “peculiarity” since the day they met but seeing how it played out in Addy’s home was sobering. The interior reminded her of an accessory store where every display was organized by color. Her living room was brown—sofa, drapes, carpet, and furniture. Her DVD collection covered an entire wall but was also grouped by label color. The small kitchen was white with orange accents—orange plates, orange teapot, and orange can opener. Mazie imagined if she journeyed up the ladder to Addy’s loft bedroom, she’d encounter a completely different color.
The walls, however, defied the color scheme. Old movie posters were tacked up everywhere, regardless of prominent colors. One theme connected all of them: lesbian cinema. She’d seen some of the movies at a theater, movies like Boys Don’t Cry and Claire of the Moon, but there were several posters advertising movies Mazie had never seen or heard of, and two of the posters displayed topless women. She studied one in which a woman with bare breasts stood in front of another, who was on her knees. The standing woman cradled the kneeling woman’s head, practically pushing her face into her crotch. The tagline at the bottom read, For Adults Only.
“Is this porn?” Mazie asked.
Addy looked up from the kitchen where she was emptying the bag of popcorn into the bucket Mazie had brought. “For that era, yes. By today’s standards, no. And ironically, it really wasn’t a lesbian film, although I like the poster because it projects that.”
Mazie strolled along the wall, reading the taglines and studying the various images, noting the posters of the sixties and seventies conveyed an overt tone of smuttiness while feelings of love and beauty emanated from the newer ones. Lesbian film had certainly come a long way.
“How did you get these?” Mazie asked.
Addy finished chewing a handful of popcorn. “I bought a few of them online and
others are from a theater. Back home we had one indie film place, and I knew the manager.”
“So where’s home?” Mazie asked.
“Everywhere,” Addy replied with a mysterious smile.
Mazie offered her own smile and said, “I’m originally from Kentucky, but I moved to New Jersey when I was older.”
Addy pushed the bucket toward Mazie. “How did you wind up out here?”
“Well,” Mazie said, grabbing a few kernels, “it turns out my vocal music coach knows a professor at Cammon. They might’ve been lovers. The prof at Cammon owed my coach a favor, so she asked the Cammon prof to become my advisor and help me finish my master’s.”
“That’s cool. I wonder what she owed her?”
Mazie laughed. “I don’t know, but I think vodka was involved.” She glanced at a picture in a silver frame on Addy’s beat up end table—an official army headshot of a young man who looked a lot like Addy. She held it up. “Who’s this?”
Addy glanced up from her preparations, but only for a second. “That was my brother,” she mumbled.
Addy’s expression conveyed conflicted feelings, and Mazie thought better than to ask more questions about him. She set the photo down, cleared her throat and asked, “How long have you been a bus driver?”
Addy’s face paled at the question. “Well, eighteen months.” She looked down and added, “But I might not be for much longer.”
“What are you talking about? The passengers love you. Why would you quit?”
“Oh, I’m not quitting. Right now I’m on leave. There’s this other driver who hates my guts.”
Addy summarized the issues with Pratul, which Mazie knew from talking with Bianca, but Addy also mentioned that Pratul was dealing drugs. “My friend Squeegee is a PI, and she’s going to help me. It would be great if I got to keep my job and Pratul lost his.”
“You have a friend named Squeegee. Is she a professional window washer?”
“No, that’s her roller derby name.”
“Oh. I’ve always wanted to see roller derby.”
“Well, we should go some time and you can meet her.”
“Are you asking me out on second date?” Addy froze and Mazie worried she’d pushed her anxiety over the edge, so she quickly revised her question. “Come to think of it, I’m asking you out. Addy will you escort me to the roller derby?” She hefted the enormous bucket of popcorn. “I promise I will at least feed you a meal as good as tonight’s offering.”
They both laughed and Addy said, “I accept. As long as there’s licorice.”
“Of course.”
They carried the refreshments to the coffee table, and when everything was situated—by color—Addy picked up an old VHS tape. “This is my copy of Therese and Isabelle.” She cocked her head to one side. “I think the story…I mean…” She shook her head and sprang off the couch. She popped the video into the machine, and as it started she said, “I’ll let you decide for yourself.”
Once the video began, Addy scooted next to Mazie on the couch. Mazie soon lost herself in a beautiful story of sexual awakening. It reminded her of the moment she realized she was gay—when her high school bestie Laura Smith planted a smooch on her lips at the frosh mixer. They had been friends and lovers throughout high school. Unlike so many other young people, Mazie’s coming out wasn’t difficult, and her supportive family included Laura in many get-togethers. When graduation came, she and Laura parted friends and still maintained a Facebook connection.
She glanced at Addy who seemed equally immersed in the story. She wondered what Addy’s coming out had been like. She obviously didn’t want to talk about her past, and Mazie doubted her need for color organization just popped up—literally out of the blue—or red or green. Something must have happened to her. Since meeting her, Mazie had studied up on OCD and learned people were often misdiagnosed and their “peculiarities” were labeled as OCD, when in fact, they were not. Addy claimed not to suffer from OCD and Mazie was going to leave it alone. Besides, everyone had little peccadillos. Addy’s seemed rather harmless.
Addy reached for the remote and paused the film. “You’re staring at me and not watching the film. You don’t like it?” She turned to Mazie with a worried look.
“I like the movie very much. It reminded me of my coming out experience. What was yours like?”
Addy winced. “Not good. Horrible in fact.” She leaned back on the couch. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just watch the movie?”
“Of course,” Mazie replied gently. “I didn’t mean to pry, Addy. I’d just like to know you better, but I certainly don’t want to pressure you into sharing anything that’s too personal.”
She automatically squeezed Addy’s hand. Addy looked down and laced their fingers. When their gazes met, they both smiled. “I like this,” Addy said. “I like you.”
“And I like you.” Mazie brought their joined hands to her lips.
Addy’s sudden intake of breath worried Mazie, but she didn’t let go. She leaned back on the couch, and Addy followed her lead. She put her head on Addy’s shoulder. She sat completely still, waiting for any fallout. When Addy started the movie again, Mazie finally took a breath.
Their hands remained interlocked for the rest of the movie, and Mazie found herself listening to the steady rhythm of Addy’s breathing as often as the dialogue. “That was a beautiful movie,” she said when Addy ejected the tape.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Addy said. “Would you like to see the movie poster?”
“Sure.”
“Uh, well, you’ll have to climb a ladder. It’s in the loft.”
Mazie stood and looked at the ladder behind them. “I’m okay with a little exercise.” She noticed Addy didn’t call the loft “my bedroom.”
She followed Addy up the rungs, staring at her buttocks, imagining what it would be like to caress them, kiss them, spank them. She was getting hot, and it wasn’t because Addy didn’t have air-conditioning.
The pitch of the roof made it impossible for Mazie to gracefully step off the ladder, and since Addy’s mattress covered almost every inch of the loft, landing on Addy’s bed was inevitable. She took a breath to quash her libido, tumbled into the loft and quickly sat up.
“It’s a little tricky,” Addy said. “I have to be extra careful going down first thing in the morning before my coffee.”
“I imagine so.”
Mazie scanned the small space—painted in purple. The mattress was covered in purple sheets, and even Addy’s alarm clock was purple. There wasn’t room for much else except a stack of clothes in the corner. Right above the mattress was the movie poster for Therese and Isabella.
Addy stretched out on the bed and pointed at the ceiling. “Did you enjoy the movie?”
Mazie leaned back next to her. “I really did.”
“I think it’s timeless like Tipping the Velvet or When Night is Falling.”
“What was your favorite foreign film?” Mazie asked. “Other than Therese and Isabelle?”
Addy rubbed her chin. “Maybe La Femme de Amore.”
“I’m not sure I saw that one.”
“I guess we’ll have to add it to the list to watch,” Addy said.
“I guess so.”
Addy propped herself up on an elbow. “What movie could you watch over and over?”
Mazie shook her head. “Too many to name. Desert Hearts, of course, A Happy Ending, Imagine Me and You.”
Addy nodded. “I liked those too.”
Mazie sat up and faced her. “I’d like to see more movies with you and hear your thoughts. It seems to me we think alike when it comes to cinema.”
“I’ve noticed that. I think it’s really cool that you work at the Bijou.”
“I love that place. It’s historic and relevant.”
“Relevant. I like that.” She sighed and asked, “Do you think you’ll be able to save it? Make enough people think it’s relevant?”
“I hope so. I’m planning an eve
nt.”
“What kind of event?”
“Well, can you keep a secret?”
“Of course.”
“Do you know Tarina Hudson?”
Addy pointed to one of the posters on her ceiling, which advertised a sci-fi adventure titled Galaxy Warriors and starring Tarina Hudson. “She’s one of my faves. What does she have to do with the Bijou?”
“She’s finishing a movie now—”
“Yeah, a movie version of the old S.W.A.T. TV show with an all-female team. I can’t wait!”
Mazie clasped her wrist. “Then you’re gonna love this. Almondine knows her and I’m pretty sure she and Almondine were lovers.”
Addy shot up. “What?”
“It’s true. I’ve been going through a bunch of stuff and I found Almondine’s address book. She knows a lot of people.” Mazie recounted finding Almondine’s drawing of Tarina.
Addy just shook her head. “Wow.” She smiled and stretched out next to Mazie. “Thank you for saving the Bijou.”
“Well, it’s not done yet.”
“But it will be.”
She stroked Mazie’s cheek and Mazie automatically closed her eyes, offering Addy permission to kiss her, touch her, fondle her, whatever she wanted. Just don’t stop.
She felt Addy’s nearness before their lips connected. One kiss turned into two. She desperately wanted to touch Addy everywhere, but she wasn’t going to push it. Addy broke the kiss and looked at her seriously. “Remember when you asked me where I go sometimes?”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s like daydreams,” Addy whispered into Mazie’s neck.
“About what?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
Mazie knew she needed to proceed cautiously. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But I promise whatever you share, I’ll take it seriously. I won’t laugh or dismiss your feelings.”
Addy snorted.
“What?”
“You’re not the first woman who’s said that.”
