Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) (37 page)

“What’s up?” Karl said to Christopher before catching a glimpse of Gina.

“I just wanted you to meet these guys.”

“Oh, we’ve met,” Gina said with a bit of a glare.

“Yes, we have. How are you, Gina?”

“Oh, since I cut out onions for dinner, I’m doing pretty well,” Gina responded somewhat awkwardly. She felt herself tensing up and just wanted to get away from Karl and Christopher. Even if the whole thing was a joke, she still felt embarrassed. She had her hands down his boxer shorts, for heaven’s sake.

“I’m so sorry, Gina. Annie put me up to the whole thing, but I guess you know that already,” Karl responded, equally uneasy. It was bad enough when he ran into guys he’d had a one-night stand with, but this was beyond uncomfortable.

“I guess I do,” Gina said, trying to think of something to say to ease the obvious tension.

“Don’t worry about it, Karl,” she added, trying to sound relaxed. “I deserved it.”

“Deserved what?” Linda asked.

“Nothing,” Gina said.

“Nothing? It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Dennis added.

“Nothing
is another word for none of your business,” Gina responded, giving Karl a look that forbade him to share any details. Luckily, Peter and Cheryl sauntered through the door before Dennis and Linda could continue the interrogation.

“There they are,” Gina said. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Christopher. Wish I could say the same for you, Karl,” Gina joked, trying to offer a slight smile to show there were no hard feelings.

When their beeper finally went off, the gang approached the hostess and was seated at a big round booth upstairs. Just as they were sitting down, Shirley arrived and took a seat next to the birthday boy. They enjoyed a huge platter of fajitas and shared a variety of desserts that the waiter brought out with candles for the happy birthday singalong. They finished two pitchers of margaritas by the time they got around to opening Peter’s gifts.

“Thank you, Shirley,” Peter said after opening his birthday present from her. It was a black tank top with a white stripe.

“Sure, hon, I thought you’d like it. It’ll show off your muscles.”

Hmm, where’d she steal that from? Gina thought, looking at Shirley.

“Did you buy it small enough, Shirley?” Linda asked. “You know Peter only shops in the boys’ department these days. It’s the only place he can find shirts tight enough.” “Open mine! Open mine!” Cheryl said like an anxious child. She picked up a small box from the floor and handed it to Peter. “Hope you like it.”

Peter ripped off the wrapping and opened the box.

“It’s a picture,” Peter said before flipping over the frame.

“No, no,” Cheryl said. “It’s a poem. I wrote it myself.”

Peter examined the framed poem, pretending to read it, and tried to muster a smile.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? Next! “Thanks, Cheryl, that is so cool.” He attempted to admire it for a few more seconds, then set it aside.

What a dumb girlie thing to do. What guy wants a poem? Gina thought as she handed him her gift. It was a casual Timberland watch she picked up at the Fashion Centre at Pentagon City. He had been complaining that his watchband broke a few days earlier. Peter opened the package and seemed genuinely pleased with the contents. In fact, he put it on right away.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s exactly what I need. Thank you, Gina.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Gina said, pleased with herself. He obviously was much more enamored with the watch than with Cheryl’s stupid poem. She and Cheryl may have been friends again, but where Peter was concerned, there would always be issues.

“I know it’s Peter’s birthday, but, Shirley, I have a gift for you as well,” Gina said, handing Shirley a small box.

“For li’l ole me?” Shirley said, accepting the box and ripping it open. It was a box of business cards that said “Shirley’s Dog-walking and Pet Care Services.” It had Shirley’s name, address, and phone number, and a small cartoon of a dachshund, a poodle, and a German shepherd.

“What’s this about?”

“Shirley, you’ve practically started your own business. How many dogs are you walking now? Four? Five? You might as well make it official.”

“Yeah, I guess I have,” Shirley said with a proud smile. “Thank you, sweetie. This means a lot to me.”

“Okay, back to the birthday boy,” Linda said, and handed him her gift. As Peter started to unwrap his present, Gina peered over his shoulder and saw a petite woman lingering on the steps near the bar area. Gina gave the young lady a nod and then whispered to Linda.

“Linda, there’s someone at the bar who would like to have a word with you.”

Linda looked over toward the bar. “What is
she
doing here?”

“Give her a chance, Linda. At least listen to what she has to say.”

“Did you tell her to come here?”

“No, I didn’t tell her to come here, but I did mention that you would be here tonight.”

“You’ve been in touch with her?”

“She’s called a couple of times just to see how you’re doing.”

“Gina, I really have nothing to say to her, and what’s with you? You were never a huge fan of hers.”

“Linda, I don’t like
anyone
who takes your time away from me, but I’ll get over it. I’ve never seen you as happy as when you were with her. I want you to have that. How often does someone come along who makes your knees wobbly, Linda? Believe me, I know. Go on.”

Linda excused herself from the table and walked out to the bar toward Rosa.

“Hi, Linda, thanks for seeing me.”

“I’m not sure what to say, Rosa. Why are you here?”

“I need to apologize.”

“You did that already.”

“I know. Linda, I can’t undo what I did. I lied to you, and I hurt you very badly. I don’t blame you for hating me, but I have to try . . . I have to try. . . .”

“Try what?” Linda asked.

“I shouldn’t have let you go. And for René of all people—what an idiot.”

“He did seem like kind of an idiot,” Linda said with a slight laugh, softening her stance just a bit.

“I meant me. But you’re right. He is an idiot. He’s back in Boston. It’s over between us.”

“Rosa, I can forgive you, but, honestly, I don’t see us getting back together.”

“That’s fine, Linda. I just want you in my life in some form. If it can only be as a friend, then I will accept that for now. Shoot, I don’t even deserve that. I was really stupid. René hurt me so much, and then I go and do the same thing to you.”

“That you did,” Linda said, not afraid to further lay the guilt on Rosa.

“I don’t know what happened. The best way to get back at him was to have an affair of my own, and when I met you at the bank, I figured if I did it with another woman, that would be the ultimate revenge. I didn’t plan on falling in love with you, Linda. God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s going to take a little more than an apology, Rosa. I can’t believe that everything I thought we had was a farce.”

“In the beginning maybe it was, but only in the beginning. I never would’ve told you about the pregnancy if I wasn’t planning long-term with you. For God’s sake, I asked you to be my birthing coach. Do you think I would’ve done that if I didn’t want to be with you?”

“I don’t know what to believe, Rosa. You don’t exactly have the best track record.”

“No, I don’t. I’m just asking for a chance.”

“I have to think about it,” Linda fibbed. She knew she would take Rosa back. She knew the moment she saw her in the bar and her stomach got that familiar knot. Rosa was all she had thought about for the entire week. Linda was so hurt and angry with Rosa for lying to her. She had tried to convince herself that Rosa had lied to her because she cared about her and didn’t want to upset her. Rosa had no way of knowing René was going to show up at the bank and blow the lid off everything she had told Linda. But when was Rosa going to tell her? Had she planned on ever telling her?

Ever since the confrontation at the bank, Linda had wanted to call Rosa and give her a chance to explain. Rosa had become a part of her life and so had Rosa’s unborn baby. Linda wanted there to be a good explanation, but how could there be one? Rosa had purposefully lied to her for months, but Linda had wanted to forgive her from the beginning. That’s what you did for people you loved—you tried to believe the best about them and give them the benefit of the doubt.

“Listen, it’s Peter’s birthday, and I have to get back to my friends. I need time to think things over. Maybe you can give me a call, and we can talk about this some more.”

“I’ll do that,” Rosa said.

Linda walked back to the table, wanting to let a huge smile burst on her face, but she remained calm and unaffected. She didn’t want her feelings to show to Rosa. She wasn’t sure how much pleading she was going to make Rosa do before taking her back.

Wench

W
hile Linda was conversing with Rosa at the bar, Peter started to stack his gifts in a little pile, while the rest of the table finished their coffee.

“It was nice to see you again, Cheryl,” Shirley said. “I think it’s been years. You look great. I love that dress.”

“Thanks,” Cheryl said. “I had to put it on at the last minute. I have this great navy-blue dress that I love. I was going to wear that tonight, but I think I forgot it at the dry cleaners or something. I couldn’t find it.”

“Well, if your place is as messy as it used to be, it’s probably buried under some papers or something,” Gina joked.

Cheryl smiled. “Yeah, one of these days I’m going to get organized. I have to, or I’m going to end up running around naked.”

“Maybe Dennis can give you some lessons, his place is the neatest I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s ’cause I’m never home,” Dennis said.

“Really?” Shirley asked. “So, what have you been up to, Dennis?” she continued as the group watched Peter neurotically try to pile his gifts on top of each other according to size.

“Nothing . . . nothing interesting anyway. During the week, all I do is work, go to the gym, watch a little television, and then go to bed.”

“What about weekends? I thought you’d be at the beach?”

“I’m not going to the beach every weekend anymore. It just got to be too much. I need a few weekends in town to get things done . . . you know . . . my laundry, grocery shopping.... I think this is going to be my last year participating in a house for the whole summer. Guess I’m just getting old.”

“God, if you’re old, what does that make me?” Shirley asked.

Dennis laughed at Shirley’s comment. “I don’t know. I’m just a little tired of the whole beach scene—the themed parties, and the drinking, and the attitude. It’s fun when you’re twenty-two, but I guess I’m growing out of it.”

“Well, good,” Gina chimed in. “It will be fun to have you in town on the weekends next summer. Besides, how are you supposed to land a man in town if you’re at the beach every weekend?”

“Oh, please, it’s not like half the guys at the beach aren’t from D.C. And it’s not like I’m having any luck lately anyway. Remember that guy I told you about a few weeks ago? The hot black man I met at JR’s?” Dennis asked Gina.

“Yeah, but when you said you met him at JR’s, I assumed he was white,” Gina said. JR’s wasn’t exactly known for the ethnic diversity of its clientele.

“What a loser he turned out to be,” Dennis said.

“What happened?”

“We went out a couple of times, and things seemed to be going well until, get this, he tells me about his
girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? What kind of gay man has a girlfriend?” Shirley asked.

“It’s so pathetic, Shirley. He told me he works for this Internet company. He’s mostly in charge of securing interest from outside investors, so he has to do a lot of wining and dining.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Gina asked.

“He said some of his investors are from the Midwest and pretty traditional, so he has to put on the ole straight act. Apparently, he’s conned this poor girl into going on his outings with him and has led her to believe he’s interested in more than just a companion for his business functions.”

“Doesn’t the poor bitch get a little suspicious when he doesn’t try to get in her panties?” Shirley asked.

“You know, it’s the strangest thing. He said she hasn’t really even tried to get physical with him—a few kisses here and there, and that’s been it. He said he hasn’t had to dodge her advances at all.”

“Well, it’s bound to come up sometime,” Gina said.

“He apparently has it covered,” Dennis replied. “He told this girl he’s all Christian and shit, so he figures he can tell her he’s waiting until he gets married. He even told her he’s a Republican. Can you imagine? A black gay Republican? The whole thing is so ridiculous. I didn’t want any part of it, so I told him to hit the road.”

“God, you kind of feel sorry for whatever poor wench is caught up in that mess,” Cheryl, who had been quiet up to then, added from the other side of the table.

“Yeah, sounds pretty sad,” Gina said. “With my luck, I’m surprised it’s not me. What’s his name, anyway?”

“Cooper. Everett Cooper, actually, but he goes by his last name.”

“What?” Cheryl shrieked.

Dennis just looked at her, not sure what she was asking about or why she seemed so startled.

“What did you say his name was again?” she asked, trying to appear calm.

“Cooper.”

Oh, God! It can’t be the same Cooper. “Really?” Cheryl asked, trying to sound casual. “What’s he look like?”

“He a pretty good-looking black man. He’s tall, with a shaved head, nice build . . . shame he’s such a loser.”

“Oh,” Cheryl added, still trying not to sound bothered. “Hey, I’ve got to run to the bathroom. I never remember where they are. Can you show me, Dennis?”

“They’re just down the steps over by the bar.”

“Oh, just show me, would you? I hate wandering around aimlessly.”

“Okay,” Dennis said, getting up from the table, a little confused by Cheryl’s need for an escort to the bathroom.

As they walked down the steps to the lower level of the restaurant, Dennis heard Cheryl let out a loud “Fuck!”