Page 36 of Four Dates and A Forever
“When that son of a bitch died, I buried him with Lola. Open casket so everyone could see him and his lover. Then I punctured her with the thorns of my rose and it sounded like she was squealing. The whole neighborhood was talking about it for months.” Ms. Gilford strangled a rose by the neck and clipped it off with her sheers.
“Sorry I missed it,” Elsie said, unsure how to respond.
“It was a beautiful ceremony,” she said. “Patrice from the Food Hub & Grub sang ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone,’ Patty from Sip Medonated the tea and coffee, and what was left of Mr.Gilford’s little blue pills we tossed in the air. They flew like rice at a wedding.” Ms. Gilford walked up the drive to get a better look inside the trunk, then pointed to the blonde mannequin. “She Mr.Ross’s?”
“The doll?” she asked. “God no. I rented her.” And didn’t that sound creepy.
“You sure? That’s quite a harem in there.” Ms. Gilford’s quiet, assessing eyes had Elsie squirming in her steel-toed boots which, when paired with her brown leather pants and matching corset, made for the perfect zombie-slayer costume. Or the perfect pervert.
“I’m sure. Mr.Ross didn’t play with dolls.”
“The wives are always the last to know, honey. Nonetheless, they need to go. Inanimate people are only allowed at Christmas and Halloween. And they must be holiday appropriate. No Santa sneaking down your chimney in October.”
“I don’t even have a Santa.”
“Let’s keep it that way.” Ms. Gilford went back to cutting her roses and Elsie went back to loading her car.
She was already behind, and Ms. Gilford’s interrogation had cost her precious time. Claire was at the venue and the party was scheduled to start in barely under two hours, and Elsie had at least two more trips across town. Her mom was there helping Claire “visualize her desired reality” and Harriet was DJing a bar mitzvah in Vancouver. Leaving Elsie to round up her plastic zombie army alone.
She checked her phone and wondered what the time limit was before Claire was justified in publicly poo-pooing Elsie in front of the magazine editor. Not long, she imagined, since Claire had already called about Elsie’s ETA twice that afternoon.
She tried to slip the signs in between the blood and foam headstones but they didn’t fit, so she flipped them flat and laid them on top of the boxes. She wouldn’t be able to see out of the back, but it was better than being late to her first real job in Portland. Guiding them in straight, she slid them back. Halfway in, they got stuck. Going up on her toes, she leaned on them and pushed. And pushed.
“Shit!” They didn’t budge. She stomped on the ground a few times and kicked the tire, then took a deep breath and tried to recenter herself so she could think through the sleep-deprived haze.
Maybe if she stacked the mannequins like a Tetris puzzle, she could drop down one of the back seats and make it to the party in one trip.
Elsie moved the mannequins around, stacking one upside down on the other and then, not wanting to fight with getting the last mannequin back in the SUV again, she merely crawled on the doll, then reached in the back to grab the signs.
“Is this a strict quintuple or are you open to a sextuple? Asking for a friend.”
Elsie looked over her shoulder, not surprised to see Rhett, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he held open the passenger door to watch the show. What was surprising was the annoying flutter that started low in her belly and bubbled upward.
The man was a menace to female hearts everywhere and he knew it.
“People put bells on their pets’ collars for this exact reason,” she said.
He peeked his head in, smiling as he took in the dolls next to her in the recognizable 69 position, then looked at her as she straddled the blonde doll like it was a mechanical bull. “I’ve never been into collars, but I’m always open to new things.”
“Go away,” she said, turning her attention to the back seat and away from his million-watt smile. Because divorcées who couldn’t make it work with a background musician had no business getting hot and bothered by the front man.
“And miss the show?” he said. “I’d lose my man-card for that.”
“How about the gentleman card?”
He gave her a crisp salute. “You’re right. I should be helping. Tell me where to put my hands.” She leveled him with a look. “Are you preparing for a zombie uprising?”
“I’m doing a themed party. And don’t you dare try something cute, like making a surprise appearance; this is an important night to me. My mom will already be there, I don’t think I can handle one more person making a scene.”
“Don’t worry, Red, I’ll be right here inmyhouse enjoying the peace and quiet,” he said. “And I didn’t know you did parties.”
“I don’t. Well, I mean I am. Just this once. My mom committed me without my permission. She forgets sometimes that I renovate, not decorate.”
“I’m sorry she doesn’t listen.”
She shrugged casually but she felt anything but casual on the topic. In fact, she felt discouraged and like a failure. “Most people don’t.”
“I do.”
