Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) (2 page)

Gina’s neighbor and former boyfriend, Peter, had agreed to be her date for the wedding but called the day before to say he was a little under the weather and wouldn’t be able to make it. After he canceled on her, Gina figured she would just hang out with Linda and drink wine and make fun of the bridesmaids all afternoon. She eventually decided she would get through the introductions and the entrée, then sneak out after congratulating the happy couple.

When Gina and Shirley arrived at the Marriott on 14th Street, they proceeded to the ballroom and stopped at the gift table. As Gina added her gift to the table, a place setting that Penelope had registered for at Hecht’s, Shirley whipped a card out of her purse.

“Gina, sweetie, you got a pen?”

Gina rummaged through her purse and handed a pen to Shirley, who signed the card. Shirley then gave the table a good once-over and snatched the card off one of the larger gift-wrapped packages, crumpled it up, and replaced it with her card.

“Oh, no, Mother! You are not doing that again.”

“Oh, please, I do it all the time. Saves some major cash.”

“Look, just sign my card, and my gift can be from both of us. Okay?”

“What did you get her?”

“A place setting. It’s the one she registered for.”

“Hell no. You think a place setting is as good as what’s in that big ole box?”

“Whatever, Shirley,” Gina said, raising her hands at Shirley and walking away.

Gina entered the ballroom and walked up to the bar. She ordered a glass of wine and took a sip. Gina didn’t recognize anyone at the reception. Other than Linda, Gina and Penelope didn’t really have many friends in common. After college, Gina and Penelope grew apart, especially when Penelope started dating Donny about three years earlier.

Gina stood close to the bar and slowly drank her wine. While the crowd waited for the bride and groom to make their grand entrance, a mature woman approached Gina and tried to make small talk.

“Lovely ceremony, wasn’t it? The church was just beautiful.”

“Yes, it was,” Gina paused. “Looked a little like the Easter bunny threw up, but it was quite beautiful.”

The woman laughed at Gina’s little joke. “Yeah, all that pink was a little overwhelming. Penelope always did like to go overboard. Are you a friend of hers?”

“Yes, we went to college together. I’m Gina.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Sally, Penelope’s aunt. I just got in from New Jersey this morning.”

“Oh . . . how long does it take to get to D.C. from New Jersey?” Gina asked, already bored with the woman but appreciating her company. It beat standing there alone.

“Just a little over three hours. It’s not too bad, but doing it alone can be a little tiresome.”

“Alone? Are you married?”

“Oh, no, dear. I never married.”

Before Gina could inquire any further, the room quieted, and the deejay asked the crowd to welcome the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Donald Weils.

Gina watched Penelope and Donny stride into the ballroom while everyone stood up and boisterously clapped their hands. Penelope was certainly not what one would consider a pretty girl, but, like most brides, she did look radiant on her special day. As Gina eyed the couple walking toward the head table, she wondered what was running through Penelope’s head. She looked so happy and confident, but most of all, Gina figured she must be relieved—relieved that she had gotten married and didn’t have to worry about growing old alone.

Gina hated the way she felt as she stood next to Sally, clapping for the couple, a forced smile on her face. A big part of her really was happy for Penelope. But, God, Gina would have been so much happier for Penelope if she were in a relationship herself. Here Gina was, on the verge of thirty, and she hadn’t had a serious relationship since her long stint with Peter about five years earlier.

“Is there one of those dumb seating plans, or can we sit wherever we want?” Shirley asked Gina, approaching her from behind.

“We’re seated over there at Table Eleven,” Gina said, part of her glad Shirley was there, so she at least knew someone at the wedding. Her other half worried that Shirley might do something to embarrass her.

“Do you know who else is seated with us? Anyone good?”

“No, Shirley. I don’t. Why don’t we just go over there and take our seats.”

After Gina excused herself to Sally, she and Shirley made their way over to the table and introduced themselves to the four other people who were sitting there as well. They were distant relatives of the groom, who drove up from North Carolina and were a total bore.

Over lunch the group discussed some benign topics, learning each other’s connection to the newlyweds, what they did for a living, how lovely the weather was for the ceremony. . . . As Gina began to wonder if it really was possible to die of boredom, the photographer approached their table and requested a group shot.

“Sure, hon,” Shirley said, trying to fluff her hair.

“Smile,” the stocky, middle-aged man said as he clicked the shutter on the camera.

“Thank you,” he said to the group and turned toward the neighboring table.

“Is that it?” Shirley asked. “You know, I just got back from the salon. You could take a few more.”

“Sure, miss,” the man said politely.

“Hold on just one sec,” Shirley said, reaching for her purse and pulling out a tube of lipstick and a compact. She applied some lipstick and dabbed some powder on her nose and forehead.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, and put one hand behind her head and gave the camera a seductive smile.

“Nice!” the photographer said, clicking the shutter as Shirley put both hands behind her head and puckered her lips for the camera.

“Shirley! How much have you had to drink?” Gina asked her mother. She knew it was too early for Shirley to be drunk, but Gina was hoping the rest of the table might think too much alcohol was to blame for Shirley’s behavior.

“Oh, I’m just having fun, sweetie,” Shirley said as she continued to pose. Realizing that the photographer was shooting only Shirley, the rest of the guests at the table leaned back in their chairs and got out of the way—except for Gina, that is. She got up from the table altogether and walked back to the bar just to get away from the whole scene.

After Gina ordered another glass of chardonnay, she searched the crowd for a familiar face but wasn’t able to locate anyone she recognized from college or even Penelope’s family. Lunch was finishing up, and the guests were starting to disperse around the room. When she got back to the table, it was empty. Everyone was on their feet and mingling.

Gina sat down, thankful Shirley was done with her impromptu photo session. She decided she would finish her wine and then make her way over to Penelope and Donny. She would wish them well and get the hell out of there.

As Gina sat at the table, sipping her wine, she saw Penelope and Donny walking toward her.

“Hi, Gina!” Penelope said with more glee than Gina could stand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Gina said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster and gave Penelope a quick hug. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Congratulations,” Gina said, turning to Donny and giving him a hug as well.

“Thanks, Gina,” he replied before turning to Penelope. “He must be around here somewhere.”

“Who?” Gina asked.

“The photographer. We’re going to start the dancing soon, and he seems to have disappeared. We’ve cased the whole room for him.”

“He was over here just a few minutes ago,” Gina said.

“Well, we had better go hunt him down. Thanks again for coming, Gina. I’m glad you were able to get the day off.”

“Sure,” Gina said as the couple departed.

Gina set her wineglass down on the table and started off for the bathroom. She would run to the ladies’ room, then fetch Shirley and be on her way. As she strode toward the restroom, she heard some voices coming from behind the coat-check counter, which was unattended during the summer. She poked her head over the edge and saw two pairs of legs sticking out on the other side.

“Shirley!” she shrieked, recognizing her mother’s shoes.

Shirley hurriedly hopped up from behind the counter and began rebuttoning her blouse.

“What are you doing? Who’s back there with you?”

“Just me,” the photographer said, stumbling on his feet and fiddling with his loosened tie.

“I’d better run,” he said to Shirley, gathering his camera and awkwardly touching her on the arm. He nodded to Gina and hurried back toward the ballroom.

“Shirley! What the hell were you doing?”

“He was taking a little break from photographing the reception.”

“A little break? On the floor behind the coat-check counter?”

“Oh, loosen up, sweetie. We were just having a little fun.”

“We’re leaving, Shirley,” Gina said curtly. “You’ve embarrassed me enough for one day.”

“Oh, please! No one saw us.”

“I
saw you! We’re leaving, Shirley,” Gina said again. “Now!”

“All right, all right. Let me get my purse.”

“I’ve got to run to the ladies’ room. I’ll meet you back here in a minute if you can manage to behave yourself for that long,” Gina told Shirley, not bothering to lecture her mother any further. Gina was annoyed and embarrassed by her mother’s inappropriate conduct at the reception, but, truth be known, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Shirley had behaved far worse in her time, and Gina had come to expect such behavior from her mother. She was just thankful no one knew about this particular incident.

“Let’s go,” she said to Shirley in a cool voice as they met in the hallway.

Gina was silent as they walked out of the hotel toward the car.

“Is that it?” Shirley asked as they got inside the car.

“Is what it?”

“No lecture? No reprimand?” Shirley asked.

“Why? It obviously doesn’t do any good.”

“Yeah, but it’s so fun to see you get all riled up.”

“Shut up,” Gina said, cracking a smile. One thing about life with Shirley—it was erratic, unpredictable, and often embarrassing—but never boring.

“Hand me the phone, would you?” Gina asked Shirley, who was lighting a cigarette. “And put that thing out the window, would you? You know I don’t like you smoking in here.”

Shirley retrieved the phone from the glove compartment and passed it over.

“So where were you?” Gina said into the phone as soon as Linda answered.

“I had one of my killer migraines, Gina. I’m sorry. Was the wedding bearable?”

“I guess, until Shirley ended up on the floor with the photographer,” Gina added, looking over at Shirley and grinning.

“What?”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Gina said. Linda was probably the only person Gina didn’t mind knowing about Shirley’s antics. That was the kind of relationship she had with Linda. Gina knew she could always count on Linda and confide in her.

“Are you feeling better?” Gina asked. “Maybe we can go out tonight and have a few drinks. I’ll tell you all about the wedding.”

“Yeah. I’ll probably be up to it by the evening. Why don’t I meet you around nine or so. I’ll come by your place.”

“Sure,” Gina said, and hung up the phone and handed it back to Shirley.

Shirley lowered the antenna and put it back in the glove box.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, sweetie. I’ll try to behave myself from now on.”

Gina turned to her mother “You do that, Shirley,” she said, both of them knowing full well it wasn’t going to happen.

Princess Charming in a World of Toads

G
ina and Linda were at one of their regular haunts, a dance club called Rumors, one of many in a cluster of bars and nightclubs in downtown Washington, D.C., that were known as “meat markets” for young professionals. In fact, the entire neighborhood was jokingly referred to as the “herpes triangle.” On weekends these clubs were filled with D.C.’s singles—mostly young men and women who were employed by the federal government or had jobs with government contractors. Aside from the young crowd, there were always a few middle-aged businessmen searching for a little love while their frumpy wives thought they were working late. Gina spent more time than she cared to admit at these bars, hoping to find Mr. Right or at least Mr. I’ll-Do-for-a-While. But even in her worst moments of desperation, she never dreamed of getting involved with one of the old farts with the tight starched dress shirts—shirts so tight you could almost hear the buttons screaming
Help me! I can’t hold on!
She would
never
talk to one of those guys. Not until she met Griffin anyway.

Gina was standing against the bar, waiting for Linda to come back from the restroom. The bartender had just handed her a rum and Coke, and as she reached in her purse to grab some cash, a short, balding man intervened and paid for her drink. He must have come straight from work, because he was wearing the remnants of a business suit—no blazer or tie but those formal creased pants that look really awkward when worn without the rest of the suit. Of course, the shirt was too tight, especially around the belly. And the icing on the cake—he was wearing some ridiculous baseball cap that had “The Big G” printed on the front of it. Gina smiled, not knowing quite how to react. The kind of smile that said thanks for the drink. I’m flattered. Now get lost. She sipped the drink and smiled again, wondering how long she had to stand there. Hoping he wouldn’t make her talk to him, she scanned the bar for Linda, wishing she’d come back soon.

“I think you’re absolutely beautiful,” the pudgy little man said with a hopeful smile.

Of course you do. Fat, ugly guys always think that, Gina thought, returning his smile, and again hoped that if she just stood there without saying anything, he’d go away.

The bald, potbellied man persisted. “And your name is?”

“Hi, I’m Gi—Mary,” Gina replied, feeling obligated to say something to him. As much as she wanted to just ignore him and walk away, she couldn’t do it. He was truly pathetic; she just couldn’t be rude to him. Besides, there was no harm in chatting with him for a minute or two and then saying she had to go find her friend or run to the restroom or whatever it took to get away from him.