Common Sense Doesn't Become Me (2 page)

Marion stood at the bar looking ever the
perfectly beautiful best friend she is. Her perfectly done long
brown hair hung in glorious curls down her back. Her simple elegant
black dress with lace shawl made her look glamorous at any age. She
turned to me with her brown eyes sparkling and her makeup perfect.
Even though she left me at the plant six years ago to marry Carl
and become the perfect quintessential housewife slash trophy wife;
I loved her every day for the person she still is on the
inside.

I watched Carl's arm slip protectively behind
Marion as he turned to see who she was smiling at. Some days I
thought it was true love, but the other day Marion let me know
that, as long as she had her looks and wits about her, she was
golden for about another ten years, after that she worried it would
be then that Carl would start looking for another younger trophy
wife. She often joked that Botox and tummy tucks were a trophy
wife's best friend. She even joked that half her monthly allowance
went into a bank account so that when he did leave her, she would
not be broke due to the prenuptial his mother made her sign.
However, I saw the way he adored her and the constant
possessiveness in his nature to make sure that she was always well
taken care of; I had a hard time believing he would ever want to
trade her in for somebody else.

Marion and I hugged and then Carl gave me a
kiss on the cheek, telling me how incredible I looked. He was the
first to say it and mean it. My dad raised his glass and slurred
out a few words that I would take as a compliment. "Abso-loot-we
bea-fee-tool!" I think we all knew he meant to say that I looked
absolutely beautiful. Coming from my dad, drunk or sober, I took
the compliment with a soft heart for his bad habit.

I motioned to the bartender with a point of
my finger to my dad and a slash of my hand across my throat. "Hey
dad. How about we get some coffee in you? The night's young and
I'll let you order a nightcap or two once dinner comes."

"Party snooper." He slurred. I knew he meant
to say party pooper, but my heart went out to the man. I did not
like it that he was an alcoholic, along with being a retired cop
with nothing to do but deal with my mom all day. However, you could
not blame the man since he was married to my mom, besides something
made me think he had started drinking long before he got to the
restaurant today.

My cousins arrived with my grandma Tess, who
was incredibly hard of hearing along with my aunt Claire, who is my
mom's much older sister. She was not too spry herself these days.
Everyone was here but Steve. I had contemplated inviting more
friends, but my mother just embarrassed me way too often that I let
the mention of this party slide, knowing that on Wednesday, we
would have an office cake and after work drinks to enjoy. Working
at a manufacturing plant was not glamorous, but I loved the
celebratory camaraderie that came with the job, party for any
reason was a great reason for cake during the day and drinks in the
evening.

I was a little worried that the only person
left to show was Steve, and he mentioned he might be late by a few
minutes.

I walked up to my grandma to give her a hug
and a kiss. "Grandma, you look lovely. Is that a new dress Grandma
Tess?"

"Piss test? Why would I take a piss test? You
young ones are truly odd these days, what with all your technology,
and code words, and funky fresh dance moves." She gave me an odd
look and then readjusted her wig that was off kilter by an
inch.

Carl raised his eyebrows and excused himself
to the men's room. Marion giggled as the now half-full restaurant
turned to the volume of my grandma's voice shouting about being
able to buy a book about sex and dominance at the grocery store the
other day. My three younger female cousins headed past my grandma
and aunt, and then bolted into the party room. I gingerly tried to
steer my grandma and half-blind aunt to the back party room while
my grandma continued on talking at the top of her lungs about the
weather, her bad hip, the walk from where they parked and why I was
wearing my lingerie instead of decent clothes to my birthday party.
At this point, if felt like we walked five miles to get to the
party room, instead of the fifty feet it took. However, if I ever
had any doubt about my babbling issue, I could blame Grandma Tess
on that genetics issue, she was worse than me.

Ok, she had me on the dress attire. Maybe I
should have saved the slinky number for later and wore just a
simple elegant dress like Marion and my sister did. Sometimes, my
common sense just goes out the window when I get excited. I was
excited for my family to meet Steve. There was potential. I was
excited to turn thirty. I had plans for the next ten years; one of
them was to settle down with marriage. I wasn't exactly sure if it
was Steve, although his sexual skills held promise; what I did know
was I was starting to want to settle, somehow.

I got everyone guided to the party room and
in around the table while drink orders were placed. My cousins all
ordered alcohol, Marion and Carl still had theirs from the bar; my
dad gave me a pleading look to order another, and I pinched the
bridge of my nose and closed my eyes while looking down. When the
waitress got to me, I order a martini and then caught the look of
disapproval from my mom. Subsequently, my sister ordered bottled
water, and my mother beamed. My mother ordered an ice tea. I'm
pretty sure when they die, my mother and sister will reconnect in
heaven while my dad and I, will be tearing it up in a bar in
hell.

Fifteen minutes had passed, and I was
starting to wonder if something happened with Steve. Just then, he
walked in with a panic look on his face, but other than that, he
looked ever the sexy man I recently fell in love with. Not to
mention he did things with his hands and tongue that no man had
done before and that was probably why I was so enamored with him. I
quickly stood and was about to announce his arrival when he
motioned for me to come outside with him.

"This is Steve everyone. We'll be right
back." I proudly announced to my family in the party room, like a
kid who shows off a report card with all A's. Only problem is, it
was all A's in the ridiculous department.

I was the family offspring whom everyone
thought needed a little more common sense. Well, except for my Aunt
Heather, my dad's much younger sister. We were two peas in a pod,
only she was fifteen years older than me. She, just like myself,
was often to be considered as less wise in my family's eyes. She
could not be here tonight on account of the fact that she is in the
Bahamas.

As Steve practically dragged me out of the
party room by my hand, I caught the look of concern on Marion's
face and the look of disapproval on my mothers. I heard my
grandmother shout out something about kids these days and my
cousin's last comment that caught my ears, as Steve and I fled the
room. The comment made my heart stop. "Why's he wearing a wedding
ring if he's dating Cousin Amber?"

And that, was the beginning of a hellish
night for me. Steve's wife, who I had not known existed, had
followed him and caught us just outside the party room doorway.
Everybody in the restaurant and at my dinner table heard that I,
Amber Jones, had been sleeping with a married man. Why had I not
noticed the tell-tell signs of a married man? I could not call,
only text his cell. The odd working hours. The sick sister, my ass.
The motel rendezvous and the slight indentation in his skin, on his
ring finger, that I dismissed. All that from the very first kiss
should have been my light-bulb moment. He was married. I was
embarrassed. His wife was pissed and unwilling to let me explain.
If it wasn't for Carl, I think the restaurant would have kicked us
all out.

Carl escorted Steve outside with the strength
of his strong hand on Steve's upper arm. Steve's wife followed.
Marion grabbed me and rushed me to the lady's room. My mother's cry
of 'for Pete's sake you can't even get your own boyfriend' rang out
throughout the restaurant.

I spent the next hour in the restroom,
getting supplies of hard alcohol shots from my cousins along with a
few classic puns that I could have done without. Marion stayed
faithfully by my side with toilet paper to wipe my tears, a sincere
I am sorry this happened to you smile and those words that
classically mean a lot but are hard to digest. "Don't worry. This
will pass, and you'll be back on your feet." Coming from her, I
knew she meant it, and that I needed to hear it, but somehow it did
not take away the sting of what just happened to me.

Once I found some semblance of composure, I
wanted to wait until a new turn of tables appeared before I walked
back by those tables of people that just heard I was sleeping with
a married man, and the new flux of customers was too busy ordering
their food or eating, to notice the husband stealer in the
restroom.

One thing was for sure; I had convinced
myself that I was surely going to hell for this mistake and no
amount of do-better aptitude was going to make up for this dramatic
sin. I stared at my puffy red face in the bathroom mirror as I
caught Marion's reflection in the mirror texting Carl out at the
party room. I told myself it was now that I needed to get my act
together or at least after tonight because I still needed to slam
back a few more to get through the evening. Marion gave me thumbs
up that Carl was stating the restaurant turn over with new tables
was good. She linked her arm in mine, and we walked, well, she
gracefully walked in her heels as I leaned against her and burped
out loud as soon as we passed three tables towards the party room.
In my defense, crying makes me burp.

I finally made it to the party room and
sitting down in my chair when my cousin Julie mentioned they wanted
to bring the cake out. The dinner my mother ordered me, eggplant
parmesan, had gotten cold. I hate eggplant, and she knows it. At
this point, I was drunk. Too drunk to care about cold eggplant or
my mother. I was ready to dive right into the chocolate cake with
raspberry filling and cream cheese frosting that I had ordered from
the bakery up the street. I walked slyly between my cousin and
Marion to the party room. I slinked in and sat in my chair. Carl
motioned for the waitress and asked if I wanted something new to
eat.

"Just bring on the snake!" I slurred. I meant
to say cake, but the waitress caught my drift, and I was past the
point of normal conversation or word pronunciation. I was blitzed,
and the waitress was entertained. At least, someone was getting the
benefit out of my loss cause.

Five minutes later, on a cart with a
tablecloth came a full sheet cake of dark moist chocolate cake,
with sweet raspberry filling and dreamiest cream cheese frosting a
girl could ever hope for.

That was the best moment of the night. The
brightly lit candles, thirty of them, did not bother me. The snarky
comment from my mother when I asked for three pieces did not bother
me. The birthday cards with gift cards were nice, except when I
opened my mother's card, the gift card was for half of what she
gave my sister for her birthday. A nice penmanship comment of 'get
yourself something nice to wear' tore at me for a second then I
tried to take it in a positive way. Because that is what this
heavenly cake did for me. It made me forget all the rest of the bad
things that happened before tonight and the crazy things my family
said and did after.

I was not only having my cake and eating it
too; I was taking the left over's home to wallow in my tears with
for many lonely nights to come. Because tonight may have come to a
crappy ending, but I had my cake, and I was not going to be left
out in the cold for very long. In a few days, I will be officially
thirty, and I am going to make my mark on this world...
somehow.

Chapter Two

Nothing like a glimpse of a
man with broad naked shoulders, naked six-pack of abs, naked
chiseled backside and did I mention NAKED - to make a girl's tears
just disappear. That naked that I am referring to is my new
neighbor who just moved in across the alley. Directly across from
my living room window seat, was the window of my neighbor's
bedroom. I have not met him yet, but I fully intend to.

Then a thought struck me quickly, not even
twenty-four hours from my last disaster of a boyfriend, and here I
go again. 'Not so fast you horny slut. Why don't you take a break
from all the male testosterone drama and explore what else is out
there, like volunteering?' That was my good girl conscious talking,
and she was a party pooper on more than one occasion; that comes
from a strict Catholic upbringing and a mother who raised me to
think that I was not out being all that I could be.

However, as I had watched him strip down to
nothing, without a single cover on his window, right in front of
me, oblivious that I was not even there as I stood half-hidden by
the corner ledge of my large apartment window. I debated the fact
that my bad girl side held a lot more power over my good girl
conscious. My bad girl side nudged me hard and shouted. 'Now you
need to get your hands on that. Don't be shy girl. You're a catch.
Doesn't he look positively sinful? More sinful than your birthday
cake? "My birthday cake. Shit!" I had left it in the taxicab that
drove me home. However, all that didn't seem to matter as I let
drool drip down off my lip, while my mouth sat open, and I stared
like laser beams at my naked neighbor's body, examining every fine
sculpted inch of his body.

While I eased myself from hiding to sit down
on my window ledge, meant as a window seat, I watched his every
move. I would not be a normal healthy female if I didn't. Then he
left his bedroom, walking in the direction of a small bathroom
window directly next to his large uncovered bedroom window. It
began to steam and that got me thinking. So, I sat there still as
could be, thinking any minute now he will be stepping out of that
hot steamy shower, hopefully naked again, back into his bedroom
with water droplets trickling down his finely sculpted body. I was
hoping he had not unpacked any towels yet and would walk around
completely naked in his room.