Crazy Little Thing (2 page)

Claire Speaks

“How’s
my hair? Is my hair okay?” Claire asked, looking right at the camera. She
fluffed her bangs and lightly patted the top of her head.

The
camera nodded up and down in a “yes” movement.

Claire
cleared her throat, sat up straighter, and smiled. “Okay… Here goes… Hi! My
name is Claire Drummond. I am an investment banker. I work for a large firm,
but I can’t say their name on camera without their permission. I am married to
Ollie Hiland. We got married on a spur of the moment type of thing. You know
the old U-Haul joke which isn’t really a joke? Well, we actually drove the
U-Haul, metaphorically speaking, to Des Moines and got married. Then once the
honeymoon was over and the infatuation had worn off, I realized it was a
mistake. A big mistake. We had nothing in common. Nothing. And so we split up.
Then I met Scarlet when she hired me to take a look at her portfolio. She’s a
very aggressive investor. Scarlet is the love of my life. We have a lot in
common. And I want to marry her. But first I have to divorce Ollie.  I guess
you could say our whole marriage could be summed up thusly: I bought high and
sold low. And now I have to take the losses.”

Claire
looked down at her feet. A flash of sadness crossed her features then was
quickly replaced by a tight smile. “Is that all you need?”

The
camera shut off.

Gluten Free

Claire
stood in her bedroom looking at her suitcase, which was lying open on her bed.
She had finished packing. All her clothes were rolled neatly. Dryer sheets were
placed between layers of clothing to give them a fresh smell and Ziploc baggies
held her toiletries.

Claire
double-checked her mental checklist. “That’s it,” she said, closing the
suitcase. “I think I have everything.” She was wearing her traveling outfit – a
pair of black stretchy pants, a scoop-neck black T-shirt, and black Converse
low tops. Her outfit was strategically designed to avoid wrinkling, hide stains,
and be comfortable enough to sleep in. She pulled her brown hair up into a
ponytail and looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. “I look like
I’m going to rob a bank.”

“You
look like Audrey Hepburn,” Scarlet said.

“Yeah,
if Audrey Hepburn gained fifty pounds and was going to rob a bank.”

“Remember,
no gluten,” Scarlet said, wagging her finger at Claire’s reflection. At
twenty-nine, Scarlet was much younger than Claire. The age difference didn’t
bother Scarlet. It bothered Claire plenty.

Scarlet
had flaming red hair. She also had a red-hot temper and sexual appetite.
Everything about Scarlet was scarlet. Scarlet tapped her toe and warned again,
“You promised, no gluten. It makes you bloat.”

“I
know, I know,” Claire said. “No gluten. You want to write it on my forehead?”

“Don’t
be cranky,” Scarlet said. “I’m not the one with the weird-ass allergies.”

“They’re
not weird-ass, as you so eloquently put it,” Claire said. “Lots of people get
hives.” She absentmindedly scratched her belly.

It
was true that Claire wasn’t feeling at the top of her game. She was retaining
water, emotional, at turns hyper and lethargic, and in a bad mood in general.
She blamed it on gluten and numerous other things. But deep down, she was
worried there might be another cause. And maybe, just maybe, the cause was standing
before her right now with one hand on her hip and one eyebrow raised
accusingly.

“I
haven’t even eaten gluten and you’re acting like I have,” Claire whined.

Scarlet
buried her face in the crook of her arm and dramatically turned her back to
Claire. “You can’t go,” Scarlet whispered. “I can’t live without you.” When she
turned back around, there was one perfectly shaped tear under her eye. She
didn’t wipe it away.  She let it sit there on her cheek where Claire couldn’t
help but notice it.

“What?”
Claire said doing her best to look anywhere but at Scarlet’s lone teardrop. “Of
course I can go.” She dug her fingernails into the sensitive flesh around her
belly button, scratching hard.

“You
can’t go!” Scarlet yelled, stamping her foot in a tantrum. She flung open
Claire’s suitcase and began tossing clothes out of the case and into the air.
“I won’t let you! I can’t live three months without you!”

A
pair of panties sailed high into the air and parachuted down onto Claire’s
head. Her eyes peeked through the leg-holes. She couldn’t believe this was
happening. Wait, yes she could. This was just like Scarlet. Make a big dramatic
exit scene. She would leave Scarlet wailing and keening, gnashing her teeth,
and ripping her hair. No, that was too biblical. Scarlet would cry and throw a
few things - inexpensive things from Pier One; she wasn’t a fool – and guilt
Claire. God, she could feel the hives popping out all over her butt.

Claire
ducked just in time to dodge being smashed in the face with a picture frame
from Hobby Lobby. She noted that it was a frame Scarlet hated.

“Why
why why!” Scarlet wailed. “Why did you only pack your sexy underwear? Look at
this!” she said, yanking the panties off Claire’s head. “These are your sexy
panties!”

“No,
they’re not,” Claire said. “I don’t have sexy underwear. I have normal
underwear. Underwear that befits a woman of my age and status.”

Scarlet
moaned and threw herself facedown onto the bed. She pounded her fists into the
mattress like an angry toddler having a fit. After a few moments her tantrum
waned to a few ragged sobs.

Claire
sighed deeply and sat on the edge of the bed. She tried to soothe Scarlet by
patting her back. “Honey, I have to do this so we can get married. Remember
this is for us.”

“You
don’t love me,” Scarlet whined like a petulant child.

“I
do. I do love you,” Claire said softly, patting Scarlet’s head. “That’s what
this is all about. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be getting divorced so we
could get married.”

Scarlet
peeked through her fingers. “You do love me?”

“Of
course I do, honey. You’re my little booger wooger bear.”

Scarlet
smiled weakly. “You’re my little monkey wonkey butt.”

Claire
tenderly wiped Scarlet’s tears away. Scarlet pulled Claire close to kiss her.
Claire turned her face away, saying, “Blow your nose first.”

“Huh?”

“Your
nose.” She pointed at her own nose, which was wrinkled in disgust. “You have
some snot and stuff. Blow your nose.”

“Oh.”
Scarlet grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and blew so hard it
sounded like a goose honking. She looked back at Claire and said with a
stuffed-up nose, “Make lub to meb.”

“They’re
going to be here any minute,” Claire said.

“If
you lub meb, show meb,” Scarlet demanded. She cleared her nasal passages in one
big snuffle that made Claire cringe. “Or I’ll never let you go with her.”

Claire
sighed. She was going to have to do this or Scarlet would never let her hear
the end of it.  She slid to the floor on her knees facing the bed. She pulled
Scarlet’s butt to the edge of the bed, raised her skirt and discovered that
Scarlet wasn’t wearing panties. That could mean only one thing. Scarlet had
planned this scenario all along.

Claire
took a deep breath. Why did she suddenly feel like a scuba diver whose oxygen
tank was on empty?

She
closed her eyes and dove in.

Scary Movie

G-Ray
turned on the camera. He balanced it on his shoulder while peering through its
viewfinder. “Here we are at Claire’s house,” he narrated. “I am standing at the
front door. I am now knocking.”

He
knocked. The door creaked open under the force of his knuckles, revealing
nobody on the other side. G-Ray whispered to Ollie. “This is sinister, man. I
think we should run.”

“Run?”
Ollie said. “You want me to run? Run where?”

“Haven’t
you ever seen a scary movie? They all start with doors that are already open.
Plus, it squeaked. Doors that squeak always signal something evil lurking
within. It’s not a good sign.”

“This
is Claire and Scarlet’s house. Not the Hellmouth,” Ollie said. Of course she
did think that perhaps G-Ray had a point and that the evil lurking inside was
none other than Scarlet. Ollie pushed G-Ray out of the way and peeked around
the front door into the living room. “Yoo hoo? Anybody home?”

“What
does ‘yoo hoo’ mean anyway?” G-Ray asked, following her inside. “You ever
wonder where that phrase comes from? And why did they name a chocolate drink
after it?”

“Sshh,”
Ollie whispered. “Hear that?” She walked into the middle of the living room
with G-Ray close on her heels.

“I
don’t hear anything, man. We should get out of here,” he said. “I think I smell
sulphur.”

“That’s
not sulphur, it’s patchouli incense. The smell of lesbians.”

G-Ray
sniffed the air. “Interesting. Very earthy.”

“Listen!
There it is again.”

G-Ray
and Ollie perked up their ears. A low moaning sound echoed down the hallway.
Ollie morphed into superhero mode. “I’m coming, Claire! I’ll save you!”

Ollie
charged down the hallway and threw her shoulder against the last door. The door
flew open, crashing into the wall behind it. Ollie put on the brakes when she
saw Scarlet thrown back across the bed with Claire’s head under her skirt.

Scarlet
raised up on both elbows and looked at Ollie. “Do you mind?”

Ollie
said, “Whoops.”

G-Ray
charged into the room, bumping into Ollie’s back. He aimed the camera at the
scene on the bed.

Claire
peeked out from under Scarlet’s skirt. “Oh my God, please tell me this isn’t
happening,” she muttered. Mortified, she re-buried her face in Scarlet’s
crotch.

Ollie
turned and looked right into the camera lens. “Well, there goes your PG
rating.”

Number One

Scarlet
paced back and forth across the living room, her heels tap-tap-tapping on the
parquet floor. Claire and Ollie sat on opposite ends of the sofa, hands folded
in their laps, eyes following Scarlet. They looked like kids who had been sent
to the Principal’s office and were awaiting punishment. G-Ray stood in the
corner filming.

Scarlet
stopped pacing and said, “Okay, let me get this straight. You are going to
drive to Iowa to —”

Ollie
waved her hand in the air.

“What?”
Scarlet asked.

“I
object to your use of the word ‘straight,’” Ollie said.

Claire
giggled. A sharp look from Scarlet made Claire swallow her laughter. “As I was
saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Scarlet continued, “I didn’t want
her riding with you and she wouldn’t be if some idiot hadn’t smashed into her
car. Now, I have to drive it up there when the auto shop is finally finished
repairing it.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest. “I’m certainly not
going to let her live with you,” Scarlet declared in a barely controlled voice.

Ollie
raised her hand in the air again.

“What?
Why do you keep raising your hand?” Scarlet said.

Ollie
ignored her question. “I object to your inference. It’s a really big house.
We’re house-sitting for a professor who’s on sabbatical. It’s not like we’re
not sharing a bedroom or anything.”

“You
are moving to Iowa for three months and living in the same house as my fiancé
and you think I should be okay with this?”

Ollie
stuck her hand in the air again.

“What
now, Ollie?”

“I
object to the word fiancé. I mean, can you really be engaged when she’s still
married?”

“I
am not here to argue semantics,” Scarlet fumed. “And why the hell is that man
with the natty hair filming everything?”

G-Ray
answered, “I’m making a documentary on lesbian divorces. I got a grant to do
the filming and that grant is totally paying our way, man. This divorce isn’t
going to cost you a nickel. Genius idea, am I right?”

“We’re
not signing anything,” Scarlet declared. “I’m a lawyer, I know these things.
You can’t use our image unless we sign that it’s okay to do so.”

Claire
cleared her throat. “Um… I already signed a waiver.”

“What?”
Scarlet yelped. “You signed something without your lawyer looking at it?”

“I
thought you would like it. It makes this whole thing free. And I know how you
like the word
free
.”

“Well,
I’m
not signing anything,” Scarlet said.

“You
don’t have to,” G-Ray said. “We can just blur your face. And as for the porno
incident earlier, I can put one of those black bars over your bleep.”

“Did
you say bleep?” Scarlet said.

Ollie
raised her hand.

Scarlet
pointed at her.

Ollie
supplied the missing word. “Pussy. He meant to say pussy.”

“Yeah,
man, the P-word,” G-Ray said.

Ollie
stuck her hand up in the air and waved it around.

“Stop
raising your hand,” Scarlet said. “Just talk when you want to say something.”

“Okay,”
Ollie said. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

“You’re
asking my permission?” Scarlet asked.

Ollie
stood and danced from foot to foot. “I have to number one really bad.”

“Go,
go, go,” Scarlet said, waving her hand.

Ollie
left the room. She knew she was being a pain in the ass with all the hand
raising and some people might have even accused her of being childish, but she
couldn’t help herself. If Scarlet insisted on treating them like children then
she was going to act like a child. Besides, she thought it was funny.

Ollie
closed the bathroom door and looked in the mirror. Her face looked sunburned.
It wasn’t, though. What she was seeing coloring her face was nothing but good ol’
jealousy. She had walked in on an intimate moment and instead of feeling
embarrassed, she felt jealous. Claire was making love to another woman and she
was going to have to face the fact that Claire didn’t want her anymore.

That
didn’t keep it from hurting, though.

She
opened the medicine cabinet and took a look-see. It was surprising what you
could learn about a person by what medicine they took. Ollie read off the
labels: Vagisil. Lavender scented feminine spray. Half a bottle of amoxycilin.
Stool softeners. Ex-lax. Ollie closed the door. She had seen too much. Now
she’d never be able to look at Scarlet again without thinking about yeast
infections and constipation.

She
flushed the toilet so people would think she really did have to go to the
bathroom and headed back to the living room. She heard Claire’s raised voice
coming from the living room. She stopped in the shadows of the hallway,
listening.

Here
is what Ollie overheard:

Scarlet:
I don’t want you going.

Claire:
I have to go. Unless you want me to stay married to her.

Scarlet:
I can’t stand the thought of you sharing a house with her.

Claire:
We have to, Scarlet. We have to establish residency. We’ve been through all
this, why are you changing your mind now?

Scarlet:
Because… (Ollie could hear the pout in her voice.) Because before it was just a
thought. It was something that may happen in the future. Now the future is here
and it’s real and I don’t want to lose you.

Claire:
Baby, you aren’t going to lose me. Don’t you know I hate the very thought of
spending any time with that woman? This is pure torture for me.

Scarlet:
(In a baby voice.) Weally?

Claire:
Weally weally.

Ollie
made silent gagging noises. She cleared her throat as she entered the room,
interrupting Claire and Scarlet’s deep-throated kiss.  They had evidently
forgotten G-Ray’s presence.  He was still standing in the corner and filming. 
He gave her the universal hand signal for gag me.

“So,”
Ollie said, “Anything interesting happen while I was in the bathroom?”

Claire
pulled away from the kiss. And if Ollie wasn’t mistaken, she thought Claire
looked a little… What was the word? Repulsed. But that was probably her
imagination. How could your very own fiancé repulse you?

“Ready
to rock and roll,” Claire said brightly. She rubbed her palms together. “Can
somebody help me with my luggage?”

Nobody
moved.

“And
by ‘somebody’ I mean you, Ollie,” Claire said.