Messalina: Devourer of Men (12 page)

            “Oh, really?”

            “Really.”

I realize we are getting on an expressway and she has to yell over the rushing air.

“I haven’t told you about me and Jared, yet!”

* * * *

            “Are you sure you don’t want any? It’s good. Put hair on your chest.”

            I smile, but give a dubious glance at Talley’s fork where a morsel with the appearance of fried shrimp dangles. I go ahead and take the piece, dip it in the special sauce, and pop it in my mouth. I immediately wish I hadn’t. It tastes like deep fried gristle. My grimace says it all.

            “Hmm.” She frowns. “I guess alligator is an acquired taste.” She takes another bite. “It’s not as good as my Nana’s, but it reminds me of home.”

            Smiling, I take another piece of my new-found favorite dish: fried pickles.

            “You’ll like the jambalaya, Eva, I promise.”

            Personally, I never understood the appeal of Cajun food, but my smile broadens. I can see why she and Jared got along. Talley may be louder than Jared, but they share the direct approach towards life. When our entrees arrive, she’s right. I do like the jambalaya.

            “If you can groove on this,” she says between bites, “wait ’til tonight when we do Tex-Mex.”

            “Damn, Talley, what are you trying to do to me?”

            She makes an impatient grunt. “Child, please. Look at you. You got curves saying you know what good food is all about.”

            If I hadn’t grown to like Talley, I would’ve been insulted.

            “Yes, ma’am. Jared likes women of substance.”

            I cast a glance over Talley’s “substance.” This athletic, blond, Nordic Amazon tucks into her meal like a marine and flirts with our waiter, and through him, the bartender—just enough to get our bar tab on the house.

            “So, tell me about Jared.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “You’ve known him since high school?”

            She looks up at me and smiles. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask. Yes. We met as sophomores and have been together since.”

            I’ve barely put a dent in my meal, but Talley has finished hers and gets out a cigarette. Our table is outside and next to a window, and she leans against it so she can stretch her long legs on the bench seat.

            “I know this is unfair, Eva. Jared’s told me a little about you and how you met, but I’m sure he hasn’t said squat about me.” She takes a drag off her Winston.

            “No,” I confirm. “He hasn’t said much of anything.”

            “He’s like that. Don’t let it get ’cha down.” She gives me a sheepish glance. “I hope he hasn’t scared you none.”

            My stomach lurches. “Scare?”

            “Oh! Don’t get me wrong. Jared’s a gem.”

            “So I’ve heard.”

            Her eyes open wide. “Do I detect sarcasm? Good. He needs someone to spar with. Kick him in the ass every once in a while. It’s hard with my being down here.” Her voice trails off then picks up volume. “He’s been burdened with some real lightweights. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

            “Thanks. I think.”

            She points her cigarette at me. “No, Eva, I mean it. Don’t lose that mouth of yours for nothing. My Jared gets bored with women. He gets stuck with a whiny, pampered type, but he’s too much of a gentleman to take out the trash, if you know what I mean.”

            When she said “my Jared,” I got a small pang.  Is it jealousy or fear? Either way, it reminds me that I’m here with his ex-girlfriend, and she still has affectionate feelings for him.

            Talley takes a long pull off her cigarette. It shrivels up, turning into a cylinder of ash dangling from her long fingers. With a well-manicured nail, she flicks the ash off into the tray and picks up her glass for a drink of beer.

            “That’s what keeps me and him so close, you see. We don’t suffer fools for long. We need someone with whom to commiserate.” Laughing, she brings the cigarette to her lips. “After all he’s been through, he can be enough of a Southern gentleman to hook ’em when he wants ’em, but less than tactful when the time comes to tell these cunts to ride their rag somewhere else.” Talley takes another drag and blows the smoke out of her nose, lending emphasis to her disgust.

I could only wonder about the “cunts” to whom she referred and if I would be relegated to one of their number, so I make a noncommittal sound. She laughs.

“One time, he dumped this girl by bringing the other girl with him on a date!” She wipes tears from her eyes. “It was cruel, but that’s high school for you. I could’ve killed him, but he hates leaving anyone or anything behind.”

            My appetite is totally gone. I fold my napkin and rest it beside my plate. When I look up, Talley’s blue-gray eyes are fixed intently on me. Is she trying to put me off him?

            “What I’m trying to say, Eva, is that when Jared splits with a woman, they usually part friendly. But, depending on the woman, there have been some ugly breaks.”

            “And?”

            “And Jared can be a USDA Prime Asshole when he wants to be. Let me tell you something,” she says, leaning forward, “I noticed by the way he looked at you this morning that he wants you . . . if you know what I mean.”

            “Hmm, I think I do.” I frown and can imagine a sign light up over my head advertising:
Have birth control. Will travel
.

            “I don’t think you do. Eva, the look he had in his eyes this morning is reserved for you and you alone. There is something in you that just clicks with him.”

She snaps her fingers for emphasis, resumes her lounging position, and laughs. Cigarettes have given her voice a husky, low timbre. Throw in her back-bayou drawl and Talley Monroe has a voice that can bend steel to her will.

            “Shit. Wish I had someone look at me that way. I tell you, Eva, for a moment I was jealous. Jared hasn’t had a look like that for anybody in a
long
time. If ever. Now, I know we’ve just met, but you’re what that boy needs in his life.”

            I swallow hard. Apparently, I have her blessing, but I can’t allow myself to feel too secure. From the way he broke our gaze in the mirror this morning, Jared is playing his cards close to his chest.

            “What you say is very flattering, Talley, but—”

            “It’s not meant to be flattering, Eva,” she says firmly, her eyes suddenly turning cold as flint. “It’s the truth. He knows you’re no pushover.”

            “Except when it comes to sex.”

            She barks a short laugh. “Don’t be so hard on yourself!” A huge grin slowly splits her face in half. “It was good, wasn’t it?”

            My shamed face can’t deny it and she slaps her thigh.

            “I thought so! Girl, you ain’t fooling nobody. How you feeling? You looked a little stiff climbing out of the car this morning. He must’ve nailed you good.”

            When our laughter dies down, she takes another sip of beer. The smoke of her cigarette blends into the smoky quartz of her eyes, adding to their devilish gaze. But there’s a question I’ve been dying to ask and I can’t stand it any longer.

            “How long did you and Jared date?”

            She puts her glass down and thinks for a moment.

            “Just under two weeks.”

            I guess my face doesn’t adequately hide my shock, because Talley’s belly laugh gets people looking at us and assuming she’s drunk. It takes a while, but finally she’s able to sputter out a coherent reply.

            “I had a crush on Jared when we first met,” she says, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm. “Other than that, we’re best friends.”

            “You mean I’ve been walking on eggshells trying not to hurt your feelings for nothing?”

“Oh, bless your heart!” She takes my hands in hers. “You are so sweet. Most women would be doing their best to rub it in.”

            “Here I am thinking you were hot and sweaty lovers.”          

“Hold it. I didn’t say we weren’t lovers. In fact, I’m sure he’s done nothing but improve in that department.”

            “Yeah, but you two seem so attached. Not just friends, not just lovers. I feel like a voyeur.” I shrug it off. “It’s my fault. I should’ve asked exactly what kind of ‘friend’ you were in the beginning.”

            “But instead you trusted Jared at his word,” she says, squeezing my hands.

            “Silly, huh?” I chuckle, but she doesn’t join in. Instead, she stares at me with what looks like admiration and sighs.

            “Eva, you’ve just made a whole bunch of anxiety go away.” She leans back again, still holding my hands and causing me to lean forward.

            “What do you mean? Earlier, you asked if I’d been scared of him. Should I be?”

            Talley shrugs and releases one of my hands to push back a platinum-blonde lock behind her ear. “Well, he does have a temper that’s on permanent simmer. But, like all volcanoes, he’s pretty good about giving warning signals before he blows.” She takes a sip of beer. “Then again, some people just can’t handle change, and nothing in Jared’s life has been static.”

            “Women included?”

            “Women included.” She shifts her position once again and gives my hand a squeeze. “Eva, I’m telling you this because I like you. You may look all shy and innocent, but I believe you’re a party girl at heart.”

            “I like you, too, Talley.” And I’m not giving her lip service. She reminds me a lot of Ana. They seem to know more about me than I do.

“Good. So trust me that although it may seem contrary, Jared craves stability, but he equates stability with total equilibrium. Get me?”

            I nod. When the body’s at total equilibrium, rigor mortis sets in. I’m glad for the advice, but it doesn’t soothe me any. “You’re saying Jared isn’t looking for serious commitment?”

            “What he needs is someone to show him that commitment means trust and permanence. It’s a beginning and not an ending.”

            Suddenly, I get a flashback of the ouroboros he painted on my back and ask, “Do you know what causes him to feel this way?”

            Nodding, Talley sighs and watches the pedestrians and traffic cruising by. I wait.

            “Jared was placed in the system when he was four years old on the grounds of severe neglect by his parents.”

            Not expecting this, I blink. I thought his attitude would be attributed to something you hear on talk shows like: “My man won’t commit to me because he’s married,” or “My man’s a dog and won’t give up his bitches.”

            But this is serious. I think of Jared, the day we met, and the few short hours we’ve spent together in Dallas. When I asked him to hold me last night and when our eyes locked in the mirror this morning—those two moments alone told me that he is vulnerable, whether he knows it or not.

“When the state took him in,” Talley continues, “Jared didn’t even know his name. Thought it was Boy.” Talley frowns and grinds out her cigarette with such force, she probably wishes she could do the same to Jared’s parents. “They had to wait until his mama sobered up enough so they could track down his birth certificate.”

I sit back, stunned, reclaiming my other hand from hers. And I thought my parents were too nosy. It never occurred to me to think about the opposite. From the way Talley keeps her eyes on me, I wonder if she’s sizing up my reaction.

“He went from foster home to foster home until he was sixteen, the same year we met.” Talley smirks in recollection. “You should’ve seen him, girl. He was Goth before Goth was cool, and mind you, we’re going to school down here in Tejas Cowboy Country.”

            “I can imagine doing something like that takes a lot of
cojones
.”

            “No shit. What is this crap they listen to nowadays?”

            We high-five over the table and I’m secretly thankful that we get sidetracked into talking about some of our favorite bands.

            “Eva, do you know how far we had to drive to get a Skinny Puppy single?” She finishes her beer. “Remind me to show you my photo album.” She grins. “Jared looked so fine he could strut sittin’ down. He had his hair cut all severe and dyed it this deep-ass purple that was almost black . . . God, did it make his eyes look divine.” She lights a new cigarette and has me regretting missing the sight.

            “But I think it was wearing the padlock and chain around his neck that finally got him kicked out of school.”

            “Permanently?”

            “Oh, no. He just had to go home and take it off.” She chuckles. “Jared was the shit in those days. I don’t think he ever realized it, though. You know how those artistic types are. I mean, despite us being on the fringe, he had a way about him.” Her smile turns sad.  “Some of the jocks tried to kick his ass. Tried, mind you. And those damn cheerleaders wanted in his pants, and then called him a fag because he wasn’t interested in them.” She shakes her head. “People follow Jared; Jared doesn’t follow people.”