Authors: Eve Rabi
As I said, Ritchie longs for harmony, and I want us to have it, so even though we’re one step away from living like
Everybody Loves Raymond,
I bear it. I don’t grin and bear it; I just bear it.
Once when Girly had gone to the shops, Ritchie and I were alone at home and we decided to get frisky. Liefie barged into our bedroom to find Ritchie and me getting it on in bed.
“Oh my God!” she cried, her face a picture of disgust and fury.
Ritchie tried to pull away, but I kept my thighs wrapped firmly around his waist, preventing him from withdrawing from me.
“We didn’t hear you knock,” I said in an accusing voice.
“It’s the middle of the day,” she hissed, pointing at the window.
“Can you give us…” I looked at Ritchie, “three minutes?”
“I just need
one
more,” he said in all sincerity.
We both realized his words and burst out laughing. Liefie stormed out of the room.
Since that day, she has knocked, cleared her throat, and announced her presence every time she has entered our house. But in spite of the living-next-to-my-mother-in-law situation, I am high with happiness.
“Let’s throw a house-warming party,” Ritchie says.
I clap my hands. “Let’s!”
“Yes, let us party,” Girly says. “A pool party, Pig!”
“Good idea,” he says. “A dusk party.”
“Dusk is good,” Girly says, clasping her hands under her chin.
I nod.
“I invite all my friends to the dusk party,” Girly says.
“Sure,” Ritchie says. “I’ll rig up some lights.” And thereafter, Ritchie goes nuts with lights. He mistakes the housewarming party for a Christmas party and installs lights everywhere – fairy lights in the little trees, spotlights between the shrubs, lantern lights for Girly – the place looks like Vegas at night.
“It’s magical, Dada,” Ally says.
“I love it, Pig,” Becky says.
“Jesus God, Pig!” Girly says. “I think you are gone mad. But I like it.”
“But wait, there’s more!” he says and rushes to turn on the music. We all gasp when we see the water from the fountain jet to the music. He’s rigged things so that the lights and spray from the fountain synchronizes to the beat of the music.
“Surround sound too,” he brags. “Bear’s gonna die with jealousy.”
I look at Girly. She twirls her finger next to her temple.
“Whachu guys think?” Ritchie asks, standing arms akimbo and admiring his work. “Huh?”
“Honey, you are amazing,” I gush. “I’m so impressed.”
He beams and draws me to him.
“Me too,” Girly says. “I…very…” she points in my direction, “Whatever she say. Now can I go back and finish the kitchen?”
“Wait till Christmas,” Ritchie says. “I’m gonna go nuts on this place.”
Nuts? Hasn’t he already?
As we stand with our arms around each other and admire our wonderful new home, I think of my two kids. If only I could have my two beautiful babies here to share in my happiness, my new life. They would love the water fountain, the slide, and all the magical stuff Ritchie’s kids love.
“What’s wrong?”
I look up into Ritchie’s face, and with a sad smile I tell him.
“Invite them over, then.”
“But…but…”
“I’ll behave,” he promises. “I won’t do this,” he bear-hugs me. “And I won’t do this…” he squeezes my breasts. “And…” he slaps my butt.
I laugh. “Too late, my kids already busted us, remember?”
He nods. “Yet, they never told. Strange how they could keep such a secret, huh?”
“Yeah, that always gets me. If it wasn’t for Scarlett’s underhanded –”
“Call them,” he urges.
“Let me think about it.”
“No, call Bradley and just ask him.”
I shrug off Ritchie and call Bradley. “Hey Brad, I was wondering if I could have the kids tonight? It’s a long weekend and I wanted to have a…par…barbeque. It would be so good to have them.” I didn’t want to use the words “party” as I didn’t want him to push for an invite.
“Oh, sure,” he says. “What time?”
Great
! “Eh…sixish?”
“Fine, we’ll be there.”
We’ll
.
I didn’t know what to say. Maybe he just assumed he was invited? Or is he simply taking liberties?
“Eh…okay.”
Damn! I start to panic.
“Where you holding it? At Bear’s?” Bradley has no idea that Ritchie has moved into his new home.
“Eh…yes.”
“Okay, cool, see you then.” He hangs up.
Damn! What am I going to do now? I sigh. I have to cancel the party. What else can I do?
I look around to tell Ritchie.
“He’s gone to get more lights,” Girly says with a roll of her eyes. “Rope lights this time.”
“
More
lights?”
She nods. “He mad man.”
“Mm.” I sit down on a chair, stare at the ground, and ponder my dilemma.
Random Seduction Tip
Great seducers will not travel in packs. They are strictly solo artists who aren’t afraid to attend public functions alone. Through experience, they have ascertained that most men may hesitate to approach a group of women, but have little trouble striking up a conversation with a woman on her own. They regard her solo appearance as an open invitation to engage with her. Some men even regard their approaching her as a great favor to her – after all, she is lonely, vulnerable, and in need of their company. These men may underestimate you, become overly protective of you, and keep unsavory characters away from you, all of which are perfectly acceptable.
SCARLETT
He wants to spend the eve of a long weekend with his ex-wife, while I sit home alone? He wants to take the children and party with someone other than his own wife? Who the fuck does that? I am raging.
“We have tickets to a movie tonight,” I say. “The kids can’t go to Rival’s.”
“Cancel them,” he says in an off-hand manner. I feel like hanging up on him.
“It’s for Imax. They’re expensive tickets, Bradley. I’ve planned this for months, you know.”
“Then how come you’ve never mentioned it to me, before?”
“Brad, I do a lot of things for the kids that I never mention to you until the last minute. Is it wrong for me to want to spoil our kids? To want them to have nothing but the best? Is it wrong for me to take charge and book events knowing that you are hard at work and if I don’t, they will miss out?”
His sigh is weary.
“I thought you’d appreciate it.”
Silence.
“Rival’s not having anything significant, you know. Just a barbeque.”
Silence.
“It’s not like…”
“Fine, fine!” He hangs up on me. Bastard.
Quickly, I google Imax and scour its pages for shows. Of the six current shows, five are fully booked.
Damn
! It is 4 p.m., and the eve of a long weekend – of course most of the shows would be booked. The only one that has available seats is some documentary on pollution and its effects on the earth. Nothing the kids will enjoy. Or I will enjoy. Problem is, even though there are available seats, all of them are at the bottom of the seating arena, which promises a neck ache. Since I have no time to let a simple thing like that stop us, I book four tickets for the 7 p.m. show. Once my booking is confirmed, I breathe easy again. Fuck you and your barbeque, Rival! I win. Again.
RIVAL
When Ritchie returns, I walk up to him, ready to tell him that we have to cancel the party. Before I can talk to Ritchie, my phone rings.
“Bradley,” I whisper to Ritchie and tap my lips with my finger. I hit answer and put him on speakerphone.
“Sorry, honey, but Scarlett’s made plans already for this evening,” Bradley says.
“Honey?” Ritchie mouths.
“Oh,” I say, ignoring Ritchie’s jealousy.
On one hand I’m disappointed that my kids won’t be able to attend, on the other hand, I’m terribly relieved that
Bradley
won’t be attending.
“Yeah, she bought tickets to Imax – some kiddy movie. Really sorry about that, sweetheart. I had no idea.”
“That’s okay,” I quickly say, wishing he wouldn’t use those terms of endearments on me. “We can do it another time. No problem at all. You guys enjoy Imax.”
“Okay. Enjoy your barbie.” He hangs up sounding really disappointed.
I look at Ritchie.
His eyes have turned to slits. “Sweetheart? Honey?”
“I…I…” At a loss for words, I throw my palms heavenward. “I have no control over that, Ritchie. Be fair to me.”
“We need to tell him,” Ritchie says, stroking his chin, a pensive look on his face.
“Soon. But tonight we are going to celebrate our wonderful home.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Remember why you moved here? For your girls? Huh?”
He nods slowly.
Time to pull out the big guns. “And all the guys are going to be so jealous about your lights, Ritchie.”
“Yeah!” he says, his mood lifting. “I’ve got more lights. Come, let me show you.”
I smile to myself. What a little boy.
“Pig! Pig!” We whirl around to look at Girly.
“My friends, they want to know…what is a
dusk
party? How must they dress for a dusk party?”
We look at each other and laugh.
SCARLETT
The Imax show is not very successful, I have to say. In fact, it’s an epic fail. Bradley bitches like the bitch he has turned out to be.
“These are our seats? Seriously? We are all going to get a crick in our necks after this. Thanks to you.”
“This is a movie? It’s not a movie, it’s a fucking doco, man!”
“What made you think the kids would enjoy a
movie
like this? How little you know about children.”
I am hurt by the contempt in his voice. After all I had done for him and his kids? The bastard is ungrateful.
Then, both kids fall asleep while watching the movie, which means that Bradley and I have to walk to the car carrying two heavy, sleeping kids. Phoebe weighs a ton, and with my stilettos, I really struggle. You’d think Bradley would be appreciative of my help, but no, he continues his bitching.
“Move it, will you?”
“She’s heavy, Bradley.”
“So? You wanted to take the kids to a documentary only
you
would enjoy. At
night
. Now handle it.” He turns and walks fast to the car, leaving me straggling behind. Furious, I flirt with the fantasy of just throwing Phoebe into the icy waters of Darling Harbor. That’ll teach him. If Phoebe drowns, they will eventually blame Rival for her death.
It was her constant meddling that gave rise to such tragedy.
By the time I reach the car, I have blisters behind both my feet from the friction of my Jimmy Choos, and another two painful blisters on my small toes.
Bradley turns and snarls, “Hurry up, will you?”
Piss off.
Once in the car, we drive in stony silence. To ease the tension, I turn on the radio.
Bradley reaches over and turns it off. “Kids are sleeping,” he snaps.
Exasperated, I stare out of the window. How much more of this I can handle, I really have no idea.
When we get home, Bradley puts Holly to bed and leaves me once again to struggle with Phoebe. Bradley can, but he doesn’t help. I’m furious. She’s not even my kid, and I have to deal with this? Fuck this shit! I leave a sleeping Phoebe in the car and go inside.
“Where’s Phoebe?” he demands when he sees me inside the house.
Fuck you!
Silently, I walk into my bedroom.
“You left my daughter in the car!” With a horrified look on his face, he rushes out to the car to retrieve his precious daughter.
After putting Phoebe to bed, he pours himself a drink and stares out the window. From time to time, he glances at his Rolex. Ten minutes later, he pours himself another drink, downs that, and grabs the keys to the Porsche.
“Where you going?” I ask.
“Out,” he mumbles as he walks toward the front door.
I leap out of my seat. “You’re going to see her, right?”
He doesn’t answer and continues walking.
“Bradley!”
He continues walking.
“I’m talking to you! You’re going to see her. I know that.”
When he ignores me, I lose my shit. “She’s fucking someone else,” I spit. Even if I tried, I couldn’t stop myself.
He stops, turns around, and glares at me. “What?”
“That’s why she’s not interested in you,
honey
.”
He cocks his head at me. “You’re…you’re lying.”
I shake my head. “Wish I was.” My smile is smug.
“I had her checked out, I’ll have you know. She’s not seeing anyone –”
“Who checked her out? Ritchie?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s ’cause
Ritchie
is fucking your ex-wife on the down low. Sweetheart.”
“What!”
I walk toward him, my phone in hand. “She and Ritchie have been having an affair right under your nose. The only reason she is nice to you is because she wants to get official custody of the kids. Then they will announce their relationship.”
He blinks rapidly at me, disbelief and confusion in his eyes. “You’re…you’re lying!”
“Oh, but you said that already. Honey.”
“Ritchie would never do that to me. He…he…he’s my
brother
. And Rival, she’s not like that.”
I smile. “I have proof that she is nothing more than a traitorous slut.”
“Proof?” He cocks his head. “What…proof?”
I open a video on my phone. “Ritchie’s moved to his new house, by the way.”
“No, he didn’t. Not yet. He would have told me.”
I pause with my fiddling to inflict more damage. “Oh yes he did. They moved in together and are living in blissful sin.” I hit play.
Without touching the phone, he squints at the screen. “That could be anyone in this –”
“Keep watching, honey,” I say as I thrust the phone into his hands, then walk back to fetch myself a drink. It’s a cocktail moment, in spite of the hour.
“No, no, no, no, no. NO!” (That must be the part where Ritchie kisses Rival.) With a smile, I sip on my Tequila Fireball – one part tequila, one part rum, one part peach schnapps, a splash of lime and…