Crazy Little Thing (20 page)

Claire Feels Guilty

Claire didn’t immediately tell anyone about Scarlet
being stuck in the bed again. She waited for two hours before she told anyone.
During that time she had a nap on the couch, brewed a pot of tea, and looked up
car paint shops in Des Moines. Only then did she begin to feel a small twinge
in her chest. At first she thought it was heartburn. It took her a few minutes
to realize it was guilt. She dialed 911.

The firemen were delighted to rescue Scarlet again.

This time they brought their cell phones and
videotaped the proceedings.

The Morning After

Scarlet wasn’t talking to Claire. Claire wasn’t
talking to Scarlet. Ollie was both amused and happy about this turn of events.
The next morning, Ollie found Scarlet asleep on the couch with Meyer curled up
in her nest of hair. Scarlet had a tiny bit of drool leaking out of her opened
mouth and her nose whistled with each exhale. Knowing that Scarlet was an ugly
sleeper gave Ollie even more satisfaction.

Ollie plucked Meyer off Scarlet’s head not for her
sake but for Meyer’s safety. Knowing Scarlet, she would pitch Meyer across the
room when she woke. Ollie put Meyer on Oscar’s back, his usual riding place.

Ollie did her morning routine: brewing coffee,
feeding Oscar and Meyer, letting Oscar outside to do his business and leaving
the door unlocked so the blind and deaf lady could feed the invisible cats.

Claire joined her in the kitchen as soon as the
coffee maker beeped that the brew cycle was complete.

“Right on time. Did you sleep?” Ollie asked, pouring
them both a cup of coffee.

“Yup,” Claire said. She yawned and stretched her
arms over head. Ollie tried not to notice her bared midriff. She failed, of
course.

“Me too,” Ollie said. “Like a baby.” She handed a
cup to Claire and sat at the kitchen table. “Which doesn’t make any sense at
all, if you think about it. Babies are notorious for
not
sleeping,
right? So why would anyone want to sleep like one?”

Claire sat across from Ollie and blew on her coffee.
“I don’t know. Except Scarlet actually is sleeping like a baby. All drooly and
stuff.”

Ollie laughed. Secretly she was delighted that the
shine was wearing off Scarlet.

There was an amiable silence as they sipped their
coffee. This is the way it could be, Ollie thought. They could be eighty years
old and doing this same thing for the past forty years and she would be
completely happy. But would Claire be happy with such simplicity? She didn’t
know.

Scarlet’s loud snore emanated from the living room,
breaking the silence.

Ollie and Claire giggled. “Maybe that’s part of your
sleeping problem,” Ollie said.

“I sleep in our guest room a lot. She doesn’t know
that, but I can’t sleep with all that racket.”

“Is that the reason she’s on the couch?”

“One of them,” Claire said.

“I can sleep with G-Ray and you can have my bed
tonight so Scarlet doesn’t have to sleep on the couch.” Ollie didn’t make the
offer out of any sort of compassion. Her real motive was that she wanted Claire
to think of her as… what was the word? Magnanimous.

“I might need to even if I do forgive her. Her
snoring will seem like a sonic boom in that small bedroom.”

“Are you going to forgive her?” Ollie asked, trying
to keep the hope out of her voice.

“After she fixes my car, maybe.”

“You’re still pissed,” Ollie said.

“Wouldn’t you be? I mean, come on, repaint someone’s
car without their permission? It’s criminal,” Claire said.

Ollie glanced over Claire’s shoulder. Scarlet was
standing in the doorway. She looked abashed and Ollie felt sorry for her. Or
maybe it was just the dried drool on her chin that gave her that pitiable
urchin look. Urchins and three-legged dogs had always stirred compassion in
Ollie. She squinted her eyes, trying to harden her resolve.

Claire twisted in her chair and looked at Scarlet.
She quickly turned back around, giving Scarlet the cold shoulder, figuratively
and literally.

Scarlet looked at Claire’s back with big, sad, puppy
dog eyes and said, “I’m so sorry and you’re right, Claire. I was out of line. I
will pay to repaint your car back to its original color.”

“You’re apologizing?” Claire said like she couldn’t
believe her ears.

Ollie thought that was ironic. Once upon a time she
had thought the same thing about Claire. Claire had never been much for
apologizing either. Maybe Scarlet was Claire’s just desserts. Sometimes it was
nice seeing your ex get what she had given to you – karma reciprocity.

“Yes,” Scarlet said. “I am officially apologizing.”

“Coffee?” Ollie said, turning her back to them. She
really didn’t want to witness the make-up scene.

“Please. And Ollie, I want to thank you for rescuing
me. And if there’s any damage to your surfboard, let me know.”

“You can write me a blank check,” Ollie said, then
immediately regretted her callousness. “I’m kidding.”

Scarlet seemed relieved.

“Sugar, cream?” Ollie asked.

“No, just black.”

Scarlet looked like a woman who took her coffee
black. She was a ‘let’s start our day with a bitter, black liquid’ kind of
person. Ollie took hope in the fact that Scarlet wasn’t the little Miss Perfect
she made herself out to be. After all, Scarlet hadn’t got laid. She’d committed
a major transgression and she had icky slobber dried on her chin. The score was
Ollie, 1 for the rescue of the damsel in distress, and Scarlet, minus 3.

Scarlet took two deep swallows of her coffee as if
she were fortifying herself. “So do we have all the necessary stuff for the big
dinner or do we need to go shopping?”

“No, we’ve pretty much got it under control,” Ollie
said. “We knew it was coming and we’re prepared.”

Scarlet ignored Ollie and sat at the table next to
Claire. “I’ll take a look at the provisions and if we need anything we’ll send
Ollie out to the grocery store. I’ll go take a shower and then we can get
started,” Scarlet said. She downed her coffee in one long swallow and strode
out the door.

Ollie sat back down. “She’s gonna take over.”

“She already did,” Claire said.

Everything’s Coming Up Begonias

“What do we need cumin for?” Ollie said. “I’ve lived
my whole life without cumin. Why do I need it today of all days?”

“Dood, I think Scarlet just wanted to get rid of
us,” G-Ray said.

They had been sent to the worst place on the planet
to be on Thanksgiving. Scratch that, it was the second worse place. The airport
was the first level of hell, and Walmart was the second. It was one of the only
grocery stores in Des Moines that was open on the third Thursday of the month
of November.

“What does cumin do? What is cumin? Why cumin? And
is it pronounced
come in
or
cue men
?” Ollie muttered. She
wandered down the aisle looking from side to side trying to find a bag, a
carton, a jar of this cumin stuff. She could’ve asked what cumin was before
leaving the house but she didn’t want to give Scarlet the opportunity to make
her look stupid and uncultured. She also didn’t want somebody to bite into a
turkey leg and say thoughtfully, “This tastes pretty good. The only thing that
would make it better would be a dash of cumin.”

She glanced around to discover she’d lost G-Ray.
“Double crap,” Ollie said. She wandered over to the next aisle, which contained
pickles and olives. Which reminded her they didn’t have a relish tray. She’d
get a jar of sweet gherkins, kosher dills and Kalamata olives. This got her
thinking. Kosher dill pickles were easy
–
they were cucumbers blessed by a Rabbi but what were gherkins
exactly? A type of pickle or a pickle processing kind of thing? And then there
was the Kalamata olives.  Did Kalamata mean the region the olive came from or
the olive itself? This was why she didn’t enjoy grocery shopping. She ended up
having an existential crisis in the pickle aisle.

G-Ray came around the corner holding a small jar in
his hand. He held it out to Ollie. He looked as proud as a big game hunter on a
safari who bagged the last white rhino. “Dood, I totally found it. I mean
we
totally found it.”

A woman stepped around G-Ray and smiled shyly at
Ollie. She did one of those tickle the air things with her fingertips that was
supposed to be a hello. The woman was a mash-up of different styles and colors.
She had pink, purple, and green striped hair, smelled of lavender, wore a
tie-dyed dress, and Birkenstocks. She completed this picture with a faux fur
stole and black silk top hat. A daisy was stuck in the band of the top hat.
Standing next to G-Ray in his red vinyl pants, purple and black flannel shirt
and blue puffy down vest, well… they were obviously meant for each other.

“This is Begonia,” G-Ray said. “She showed me where
it was. Turns out that cumin’s a spice. And guess what? She was here looking
for cumin, too. Serendipity, right?” G-Ray handed Ollie the jar.

“Kismet,” Ollie agreed, catching the scent of new
love blooming. “Perhaps Begonia could stop by the house for the relish tray I’m
creating.”

“That would be groovy,” Begonia said. Ollie noted
that she said the word groovy without a single trace of irony.

“Right on!” G-Ray exclaimed. “That was so what I was
thinking. She just rolled into town from Denver. She’s staying with her friend
but her friend is out of town for the weekend. Begonia is at loose ends.”

“Then she must stay for dinner,” Ollie said. G-Ray
smiled at her like she’d just told him he’d won the lottery.

“Begonia, would you care to have Thanksgiving dinner
with us?” G-Ray said in a very formal tone.

Begonia smiled, touched his face lightly with one
finger and said, “Yes, that would be lovely.”

Ollie thought the touching of his face was a little
weird, but maybe it was a cultural thing. After all, Eskimos rubbed noses and
high society women air-kissed.

They took the cumin, the jars of pickles and olives
to the front of the store. It was complete and utter madness. There were people
everywhere, carts, stressed cashiers, and general bedlam. This was why Scarlet
had sent them to Walmart. So they’d miss Thanksgiving and she’d have the whole
day alone with Claire… and EZ, but she didn’t count since she was still asleep
when they left. Not only that but Scarlet had forced them to take Claire’s car.
She was probably thinking out of sight, out of mind.

While Ollie stood in line cultivating revenge
fantasies involving Scarlet, Begonia selflessly helped an elderly lady unload
her cart. G-Ray even got in on the Good Samaritan action by pushing the lady’s
cart out the door.

By the time Ollie paid and got to the parking lot,
Begonia and the lady were chatting like old friends. Ollie got to them just in
time to hear the lady nod at G-Ray and ask Begonia, “Is that your young man?”

Begonia blushed pink and whispered, “I hope so.”

They said their goodbyes and watched as the lady
pulled out of the lot, waving merrily. They walked toward their car.

“So what do you do? You know, for a living?” Ollie
asked. She usually hated when people asked that question. It was like saying
that a person’s job was the person. But in this instance, she really had to
know what Begonia did. Who she was? She seemed far too good to be true.

“I’m a Guardian Angel,” Begonia said.

“Uh huh,” Ollie said with a good-natured laugh. “And
I’m Joan of Arc reincarnated.”

Begonia laughed. “Guardian Angels is an
international society. Our purpose on earth is to render aid and comfort to
those in need. I came to Des Moines to do volunteer work at the hospital.”

“Oh,” Ollie said. She was impressed. “What kind of
work?”

“I rock babies.”

“Seriously?”

Begonia nodded. “When a baby has an operation, it’s
nice to wake up in somebody’s loving arms rather than in a cold, sterile bed.
You know?”

“Yeah,” Ollie said. She knew firsthand the
difference between loving arms and a cold bed.

“Would you like me to detoxify your feet with your
leftover cumin?” Begonia asked. “I’m noticing that you have some negative
energy trapped around your heart chakra.”

“Sure,” Ollie said. That cemented it. The girl was
weird. Weird and interesting and pretty and sweet and just right for G-Ray.

Begonia smiled warmly. “I could detoxify your feet
and G-Ray’s buttocks at the same time.”

“He already told you about his tocks?” Ollie asked.

“He didn’t have to tell me. I saw the blip in his
aura.”

“And you didn’t think it was weird?”

G-Ray interrupted, “Begonia doesn’t do labels, man.”
He opened the door to Claire’s Pumpkin Spice car and invited Begonia to sit.

As Ollie watched them, she had two simultaneous
thoughts: An orange car is easy to spot in a parking lot, and G-Ray was
experiencing love at first sight.