A Woman Lost (8 page)

“So there I am, trying to wrap the meeting up as soon as possible. But the husband kept going on and on about how he doesn’t want a really feminine room. The entire time, I’m trying to hold it in.

“Then, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I had to ask them if I could use their bathroom. I walked as fast as I could down the hallway‌—‌without looking like I was about to shit myself. When I sat on the toilet, I exploded. Seriously, I couldn’t believe how fast it shot out of my ass. And I’m sitting there hoping they couldn’t hear me. But I could feel I wasn’t done, so I flushed the toilet, so I wouldn’t clog it. And then I braced myself for round two.

“That’s when I noticed the toilet didn’t flush completely. I started to panic.
How in the world can I go out there and tell them that I had the shits and I clogged their toilet?
I thought
.
So, I jumped up and saw that there was a plunger. Picture this: I’m standing there with my pants around my ankles, plunging like a mad woman, squeezing my ass cheeks so I wouldn’t shit myself.

“And then I sensed I wasn’t alone. I looked over my shoulder and saw that the blind was up and the window was open. Their neighbor was watching me with his mouth open. You better order a coffin.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna die from embarrassment.”

I smiled, “Could he hear you?”

“Oh, Lizzie, I don’t even want to think about that.” She shook her head and laughed. “I was completely mortified.”

She laughed so hard she squeezed out a fart.

“Did you just break wind?” I asked, floored.

“Break wind!” She roared with laughter.

Trying to recover my composure, I said, “Careful. You might do it again.”

Maddie had started to pop in more and more at my office. I was only too eager to set aside my work to be entertained by her. Afterward, we wandered over to the Lory Student Center and grabbed a bite to eat.

I couldn’t help but think that she was coming up with reasons to see me. I would never tell that story to anyone. Maybe I would tell Ethan. Maddie’s carefree attitude drew me in. No one in my family would admit to that story. I was learning how much she trusted me with her secrets.

* * *

I let out a sigh when I heard the phone ring. There was only one person I knew who would call at this hour. I rolled over in bed and picked up the phone. “You are aware of the time?”

“Good morning to you, little sis.” He sounded cheerful, but in a condescending way. “It must be nice to be a student. I’ve been up for hours working.”

I looked at the clock. It was six in the morning. Peter had always been a liar.

“To what do I owe this wake-up call?”

“Maddie and I would like to invite you and‌—‌I’m sorry, I don’t know your girlfriend’s name‌—‌to dinner tonight. What do you say, can you make it?”

“Well, I can. I’ll have to ask Sarah.”

“Put her on the phone. I know I can convince her.”

I could almost see his sleazy smile. “She’s in the shower. Don’t worry, I’ll ask her.”

“All right, my address is 1648 Quentin Road. Mapquest it. Be here at 7 p.m., Elizabeth. I gotta go. I’m getting another call.”

I didn’t bother saying goodbye, since I knew he had already hung up. I stared at the bathroom door. Should I invite Sarah? The last two times I hadn’t, she’d flipped out. If I got caught again, it would be over for sure. But did I want her to go?

She walked into the bedroom, drying her hair with a towel. “Did I hear the phone?”

I laughed. Sometimes I thought she had special powers. “Yes, you did. Peter called to invite us to dinner tonight. Would you like to go?”

“What?” She stopped in her tracks and dropped her towel on the floor.

“Do you want to go to Peter’s for dinner tonight? You know, my brother,” I teased.

She ran over to the bed, straddled me, and leaned down, holding my arms above my head.

“Are you asking me to a family function?”

I smiled. “Well, he invited you, and it would be rude if I didn’t extend the invitation. And I remember you telling me that you wanted me to let you in more. I’m warning you, though, it’s like stepping into a viper’s den.”

“Don’t be a jerk right now. This is groundbreaking for you. The mysterious Lizzie is letting me into a part of her secret world.” She leaned down and kissed me.

I brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s not a secret world. I don’t like them much, and I’m surprised that anyone would want to subject themselves to my family.” I shrugged to the best of my ability, since she was still holding down one of my arms.

A puzzled look crossed her face. “Why did you laugh when I asked if I heard the phone?”

“What?” I ran my free hand over her breasts and down her torso.

“You laughed when I asked the question. Why?”

“I don’t know. I just did.” I laughed again. “Come here.” I pulled her closer and kissed her. Then I asked, “Can you be ready by five? I know you’ll have to leave practice early, but we have to be there early.” Volleyball season had started, and Sarah was the girl’s JV coach.

“What time is dinner?”

“Seven.”

“We’ll be really early.” She looked perplexed.

“Trust me.”

She smiled. “Of course, I trust you, and I’ll be ready at five.”

Chapter Ten

We arrived at Peter’s house a little after 6 p.m. Part of me was surprised when I saw his house. The other part thought,
Typical Peter
. Simply put, it was ostentatious. He had a four-car garage. Floodlights pierced the sky near every tree. And from the looks of the neighborhood, it was newly built. The house was reminiscent of a plantation home.

“What does your brother do?” Sarah gasped.

“Investments of some sort. And he kisses Dad’s ass.”

“It seems to work for him.” Sarah leaned closer to the windshield to get a better view.

I parked the car on the street and we trekked to the front door. We had to climb a winding stone staircase to ring the bell. Where in the hell did my brother think he lived, the old south?

Before I rang the bell, I gave Sarah my are-you-sure-you-are-ready-for-this smile. She smiled back at me, but her expression lacked confidence. For a brief moment, I felt bad for her. Then again, she had been asking for this, so here she was. I turned to the door and pressed the bell. I could hear church bells chiming.
Oh God, Peter. Do you think you’re Jesus?

Maddie opened the door and immediately threw her arms around me. “I’m so glad you are here.” She let me go, and then threw her arms around Sarah just as enthusiastically. “Sarah, I’m glad you could make it.”

She whisked us past the foyer and into the kitchen. Peter was standing at the bar, preparing a scotch. That was when I knew my parents were in attendance.
Nice, Peter. Real nice not to give me all of the information
. I should have suspected. His nose was so far up their asses it would require surgery, and massive amounts of therapy, for Peter to stand on his own two feet.

“Hey sis, you made it. And you must be Sarah. Maddie told me you were quite lovely. Well, that figures. Elizabeth is of the same stock, and boy do we catch fine-looking women in our family.” He nudged me with his elbow, winked, and lifted his glass to toast Maddie.

Sarah obviously didn’t know what to do after this little performance. She chose to go with a deer-in-headlights look. It was the best choice, considering.

“Don’t mind him, Sarah. He just pretends to be crude. Deep down somewhere, there’s a nice guy … or I keep hoping there is.” Maddie patted Sarah’s arm.

“
Touché,
Maddie.” Peter took a swig of bourbon and then left the kitchen, carrying the drinks. I turned to Maddie and asked if my parents were present.

“Your mother is. Your father hasn’t arrived yet. Something at the office held him up.” She fluttered to the other side of the kitchen. “Really, Lizzie, what does he do? There is always some emergency. And now Peter is always held up as well. This is the first night in weeks that I’ve seen him before ten.” Anger flashed in her eyes.

“You got me. We don’t talk much.” I shrugged.

“Yes, that’s right, the mysterious family. Sarah, have you noticed that about Lizzie? Like she tells you just enough about herself, but deep down there’s so much more.” Maddie laughed and continued preparing a salad.

To my surprise, Sarah came to my defense. “She does have a mysterious side, but when she comes home late, I know what she has been up to. It’s usually because she’s had her nose buried in some book and has lost track of time.” She leaned over to kiss my cheek. Right then, both my mother and brother entered the kitchen. It took a trained eye, but I could see my mother flinch when she saw the kiss.

Peter smiled. I could practically see him counting the extra money he would inherit.

“Look, Mother, for once Elizabeth is on time for dinner.” Peter helped Mom to a barstool.

Sarah glanced at her watch. I looked at the clock on the microwave. It was six-thirty. Sarah looked at me and chuckled. I think she was starting to see why I did certain things, like show up so early for everything.

“Maddie, is there anything I can do to help with dinner?” asked Sarah.

“You are a dear, but to be honest, most of it is done. I picked up dinner from this darling restaurant down the street.” She smiled at Sarah. “I hope neither one of you is vegetarian or I’m afraid all you will be eating is this salad.” She tossed it some more and then set it aside.

I could tell she was nervous. Why? Because of Sarah, perhaps?

“Fear not, we are both carnivores.” I smiled at Maddie and she reciprocated.

As she reached for a serving platter on top of the fridge, I saw a large hole in her sweater. It looked like it had been well worn and the hole was testimony to that.

“Maddie, why do you insist on wearing that sweater? That hole is the size of the Grand Canyon. We are not paupers, my dear.” Peter waved his arm to point out the luxury of their lifestyle.

“I love this sweater. It’s the most comfortable one I own, so I’m sorry but you’ll just have to endure seeing me in it.” She flashed a stubborn smile at Peter, who turned away to say something to our mother.

The Scotch-lady did not look impressed by Maddie’s determination to be comfortable. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw Mom in a pair of jeans or shorts. She would always tell me, “It is better to always dress nice, because that one time you wear sweats, the whole world will stop by to see you.”

Of course, I never lived by that mantra, but Peter did. On the rare occasion he wore jeans, they were guaranteed to be of the nicest quality and the most expensive. Even then, they looked starched. What was the point of wearing formal jeans? Especially when they resembled “mom jeans.”

“How’s your job going, Maddie?” Sarah asked, an obvious attempt to divert attention from the sweater.

I looked at Sarah. Usually, she was so quiet she would hardly ever engage in conversation with a group of people she did not know. I stopped to wonder whether she was trying to impress me or support me, or whether she just felt comfortable with Maddie’s southern, carefree attitude. It was like they were old friends.

“Well, should we sit down and start dinner?” said The Scotch-lady before Maddie could even answer Sarah’s question.

“It’s all ready. I was waiting for Charles,” Maddie explained.

“Oh, he can eat the leftovers.” Mom looked at her watch. “Serves him right for being late again.”

“Mom, I’m sure something important held him up at the office.” Peter looked troubled.

Was he upset that he would have to choose a side? He was never good at that when it came to our parents.

“How ‘bout I get you another drink?” he told her.

“I would never turn that down, but I’m famished. And I have to leave soon.”

I was sure that was a lie. I examined her thin, persnickety face. Yes, she was fibbing.

Peter’s face was priceless. He looked as if he might cry. I reveled in the moment, wondering whose side he would take: Mother’s or Father’s.
Come on, Peter. Make a choice for once in your life.

“Hello all.”

Goddamnit!
Why did he have to show up right then? I turned to find my father standing there, his expertly tailored three-piece suit hiding his belly.

“Dad, you made it!”

For a second, I thought Peter was going to wet himself with excitement. He reminded me of my neighbor’s cocker spaniel, who peed whenever he was excited.

The Scotch-lady took another sip of her drink, but she didn’t even look in her husband’s direction. Was this why I was so screwed up about relationships? I glanced over at Sarah. To my astonishment, she showed no reaction to the scene at all. Was she just overwhelmed by it all?

“Sorry I’m late … got held up, you know,” he said in a deep voice.

Maddie’s jaw almost hit the floor. She looked at me, and I could tell she wanted to shout, “Oh my God! That’s the most your father has ever said.”

Peter must have seen the expression on her face too, because he said, “Maddie, do you think we can get some food on the table and feed all these hungry people?”

I wanted to hit him.

She retorted, “I could if you would get your lazy buttocks out of my way.”

To his credit, he didn’t rebuff her. Did he know he would lose the battle? Her southern charm didn’t quite take the sting out of it, but gave her words the illusion of being heartfelt.

I could tell my father was impressed. He loved a woman with a spark. That explained why he hated my mother: her spark went out years ago.

“If you’ll take a seat, I’ll bring out the salads?”

I followed my father into the dining room. He was the man to follow. His girth announced that he never missed a meal.

The dining room, considering the size of the house, was quite modest. The table could seat eight comfortably. In the middle was a beautiful yellow rose centerpiece in what I assumed was a Waterford vase. No paintings graced the wall; instead, an elegant candelabrum hung on the wall behind the table. And, of course, all of the votives were lit.

Sarah and I took a seat together on one side, and my parents sat at the ends of the table. I found that surprising, but maybe they figured they paid for the house so they might as well have that honor. I was pleased. At least I didn’t have to stare at them across from me all night.