Page 22 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
“Look at my man work,” a stuffy Elise Vale Mehta crooned from the 80s-style dining table—one of the things Celene didn’t consider rubbish. “I heard the great outdoors heightens testosterone.”
From the clunky glass window doors, they watched Ajay chase the paper directions from one end of the deck to the other in the sporadic breeze. Celene sat opposite her, choosing to hold her tongue. Ajay was a talented guy, yet he could remember to get the tires rotated, and everyone acted like they’d erect a float for him.
Elise rubbed at neatly groomed, rounded eyebrows, her other hand fluffing ‘Ariel Red’ hair, as her stylist named it. Nonetheless, those Vale genes were ruthless. Her roots were already fighting back, dark at her scalp.
Growing up, the sisters got ‘you look so alike’ too many times. Elise took care of that.
In fact, Celene coming out as a lesbian was probably the greatest gift she’d ever given her sister—more valuable than the designer luggage she’d bought off their wedding registry. Even in Celene’s tender elementary years, boys—specifically ones who bullied girls—caught her ire. Progressing into middle and high school, she’d perfected caustic, expletive-heavy rejections for guys risking their lives to ask her out. Meaning all male suitor traffic flowed to Elise, thenice sister.
“Ajay called this a vacation.” Celene rapped her short, pewter manicure on the tabletop. “He knows we’re here to make headway on renovations, right?”
Elise gave a sidelong gaze Celene knew too well. She was not listening. “I got my IUD removed. Wouldn’t it be romantic to conceive our firstborn here, in my old summer bedroom?”
“No, that’s hideous.”
Snapping out of her wedded bliss, she confessed into a tissue, “I saw you talking to Quinn at the wedding. My plan worked.”
“Your plan?” Celene’s temperature hit an instant high. Neck tensing, she stood to fetch the water filter. “You’re attempting to manipulate my life.”
“I had no idea she’d RSVP with a plus one.” A layer of whininess stretched Elise’s confession out. “Aren’t she and Ramona too cute, though? They’ll be married with kiddies in no time. I wonder which one of them will carry.”
“They seem compatible,” Celene relented, staring off at a scratch on the wooden table’s leg.
It’d taken Quinn a year to express her love openly. At the time, Celene had been too enamored to nitpick about it.
Well, until things weren’t so romantic. Celene began criticizing everything about their shared life, and she hadn’t been proud of herself. But when their interactions became a chore, her best self departed.
She never wanted that to happen again.
Elise found her way to the Formica counter, leaning on an elbow.“You invested a lot in that relationship, Celene. Ajay saw it, too. I swear he copied some of the romantic gestures you did for Quinn. That’s why we bothered you about our vows.”
At their wedding ceremony, during A Troca de Alianças, Ajay recited his vows as spoken word poetry. Elise’s lines were in iambic pentameter. Cute, but artists continued to elude Celene. “What I’dloveis to bring this house into the current century. I thought you came to relieve me of some physical work, not obsess over procreating. You could do that at home.”
“Sure, but my allergies?—”
“We’ll find low-impact errands for you, god.”
“Fine.” Elise squeezed Celene’s forearm. Traces of henna still decorated her hand in complex swoops and paisleys. “I don’t know where to start. Any leads?”
After a long, generous drink from her glass, Celene pulled away to the bar section of the counter, where her handbag sat. From it, she took out the card for Gertrude’s Home Improvement. “Here’s a promising referral. Please look them up, and we can put our heads together on what services we’ll use.”
“Ooo, woman-owned? Go, Gertrude.” She flicked thick hair from her cheek as she read, bearing a sniffly smile. “Can we start with this place’s ghastly, ashen façade?”
“Yes, please.” Celene returned the smile. In a rare moment of holding Elise’s short-term attention, she said, “You were a gorgeous bride.”
“Thanks, I know.” Betraying a sliver of shyness, Elise spun the card on the counter with her fingertips, her wedding band and princess-cut ring flashing prominently. Then, her face lit up. “Do you know what this is like? It’s like playing house.”
The unlimited budget. The freedom to change anything. “You’re right.”
Then, their agreeable moment got knocked down by Elise mentioning, “Remember the girls next door, back then? They had that humongous wooden playhouse in their backyard.”
Celene located her shoes by the door with her eyes, muttering, “I remember.”
Those neighbors moved away, she’d discovered. Good.
“Amazing times. Those girls owned every Beanie Baby, I swear. It’s like...” Elise faded off, but Celene was too busy tossing on a light jacket to notice what for. “Are we depriving future kids if we sell this place?”
Of course, Byron sent someone in the ‘keep it’ camp. Celene rolled her eyes. “It’s not the locale; it’s the company.”
