Laughing Down the Moon (10 page)

BOOK: Laughing Down the Moon
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Chapter Fourteen

Double the Dating Pleasure

Because the tiny lights were so tangled, I took off my mittens to separate the multicolored bulbs from one another and the twisted green wires. After a few muttered cuss words, I eventually found one loose end, placed it in between my teeth and began working to free the rest of the lights. Nothing was loosening up, but I continued to work at it anyway. Finally I let the ball of lights and wires fall to the ground in an unholy mess. The cold sunlight caught in the miniature glass bulbs and lit them as if they were plugged in.

“Come on,” I said to the string of lights. My phone rang, muffled by my down jacket. I reached in to see who it was. Apparently, I wasn’t fast enough. I had missed the call. I looked at the screen and the word that ran through my head was less than festive. Mickey had called. My mouth, which had been sort of drooly from holding the winter lights, went dry. I was glad I hadn’t just answered the call without checking who was on the other end. I hadn’t talked to Mickey for a month or more and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to now. Why was she calling?

When I heard Mickey’s recorded voice, my insides tightened. I didn’t realize I had a death grip on my phone until I loosened my fingers to replay the message, “Uh, hi Al, this is Mickey,” her voice began again, “I was calling you…uhm, of course I was calling you. Guess I didn’t need to say ‘you.’ Anyway, I’m calling to see if you’d like to…uhm, maybe get together this coming weekend or sometime. You know, with the holidays…maybe we could go get dinner or…or something. Uhm. Okay, call me and let me know what you think. Okay. I was thinking of you…bye.”

“Fuckity fuck fuck mcfuckerson,” I said as I deleted the message. No. I didn’t want to go get dinner or something. I didn’t want to do anything with Mickey. Although I was tempted to call her back immediately and tell her no, I thought I should at least consider it because this apprehension that filled me must be indicative of an unresolved issue. The reminder of failed love, the dread of having to consider rekindling that love, and an unfathomable uncertainty had all been perched, with nervous legs crossed and palms sweating, on uncomfortable chairs in the back of my mind. I’d call Mickey back later. Maybe tomorrow. I’d see how I felt tomorrow and then go with that.

I considered the tangled winter lights at my feet. I wanted to kick them but their messy state was not their fault, so I brought them into the house to continue unraveling them in the warmth of the indoors.

“Hi Dwight!” I hollered up the stairs as I entered the house.

“Hi lilfella!” he hollered back to me.

I peeled off my winter coat and scarf, removed my boots and looked at the postcard from Mom that I had read earlier. Gladys had escorted her Pips to Mississippi and was taking them next to Arizona, even though they were scheduled to meet friends in Florida in a week. Why were they crisscrossing the states like that? Florida to Arizona and then back to Florida? They were like teenagers with their first set of wheels. I shook my head and padded up the stairs with the snarl of lights in my hand. Maybe Dwight would enjoy some company. I would certainly enjoy his company as I tried to unravel this travesty. I was unnerved by Mickey’s call. Dwight had already proven himself a good listener, so I planned on working out how I felt about her offer with my cockatoo as my counsel.

Dwight’s crest feathers rose toward the ceiling as I entered the office. Sunlight streamed in the window, creating blue glints in his black feathers and intensifying the red bands in his tail. The sun also made visible the veins in his bare belly. Dwight cooed to me, and I did my best to coo back at him. Patrick had taught Dwight this cooing business a couple of days ago when he came to meet Dwight for the first time. According to the Humane Society, Dwight would need to be socialized with a few new people every month or so, to avoid becoming territorial or possessive of me. But they warned I was not to overdo it lest he become even more stressed than he already was. So far, only Patrick had met my new companion. He claimed not to be into big birds, but I could tell from Patrick’s face as Dwight had yelled, “Hi lilfella,” down the stairs to me, that he might soften. And then the minute Patrick laid eyes on Dwight, a big “Oooooooh” escaped his lips and he couldn’t take his eyes off the half-naked bird.

After I introduced them, I busied myself downstairs in the kitchen making a snack. I let Patrick and Dwight get on with their socializing and through the vents I had heard Patrick’s voice and some nonsensical responses from Dwight. When I entered the office they were taking turns cooing back and forth to each other.

Now Dwight was cooing at me. So I cooed back, hoping he took it for a happy noise because my coo sounded rather like a growl. I tried again, smiling this time and immediately pictured dogs facing off over the carcass of something tasty. Would Dwight now see my bared teeth and hear me growling and think I was being a menace? No, Dwight thought I was wonderful, and to show me so, he bobbed his head with his feathers raised high like a showgirl in Vegas and cooed back.

I pushed my desk chair aside and sat down on the area rug, with the ball of horror in front of my crossed legs. I told Dwight about the call from Mickey while I worked on the lights. He clucked and whistled at various stages of my story.

“I just don’t want to go there again with her,” I said.

Dwight bobbed his head and chortled.

“I’d rather call anybody else in the world except Mickey,” I concluded, which made me think that I should call this Shiloh woman. Even a cold call was more enticing than speaking to Mickey. So I grabbed my cell and looked at the contact list in my phone. I paged over to the S’s and found Shiloh’s number. I looked at it for a minute before making the call.

As it was ringing, I panicked. I didn’t even have a plan! What was I going to say? Could I still hang up? No, she’d see my number on her caller ID and would know I chickened out. I could call later and say that I had lost…

“Hello?” a woman’s voice answered.

“Hi. This is Shiloh—I mean, is this Shiloh?” I stumbled, oh Goddess, lend me a hand here!

“Yes, this is Shiloh,” the woman’s voice had laughter in it. “Who is this?”

“This is Allura. Collette gave me your number…” I let the sentence end without actually ending it.

“Allura!” she said, “Hi! I’m glad you called.”

“Oh.” Come on Goddess, some help, please?

“I, uhm, I didn’t know how to get a hold of you,” Shiloh said, “so I asked Collette to help me out if she ever saw you at the club again.”

“She did…help you out…” I said. I bit my bottom lip hard enough to consider a piercing. I think my heart stopped beating.

“She must have because here you are.” Shiloh’s voice was bright. She laughed a little and said, “So do you want to go out sometime? Maybe we could do dinner, drinks, or maybe, I don’t know,” Shiloh paused and said, “yoga?”

Okay, there it was. I had already had the worst embarrassments that I could probably ever have in her presence, twice, so I took a deep breath. “Well, how about dinner and a movie?”

“A movie?” Shiloh asked.

“Yes and dinner. Maybe dinner first and then the movie,” I said, feeling bolder now.

Shiloh started laughing. “You really are funny! Okay dinner and…a movie.” From the way she said the word, I wondered if “a movie” had become a code word for something else since I’d been out of the dating scene. Shiloh was still laughing. I’d have to check with Falina. She’d know what the movie deal was. But Shiloh’s voice was warm. And she had a nice, light laugh, almost like little bells tinkling against each other, so I joined her even though my palms were sweating so badly that my phone was about to slip from my hand.

“Would you like to go out this Friday?” I asked. “You can pick the restaurant and I’ll pick the movie. How does that sound?”

“Mmm,” Shiloh mused. I could still hear the smile on her face as she spoke, “Well, I guess that sounds like a plan.”

I was going to ask her if she wanted to drive when she suggested I pick her up at seven. I told her that was perfect, so she gave me her address. My heart was still not beating properly, so I figured it would be graceful to end the call before I went into cardiac arrest.

“Okay, I’ll see you at seven on Friday, then,” I said.

“Sounds good! Bye, Allura.”

“Bye, Shiloh.”

“Shiloh,” Dwight said as I ended the call.

“Dwight!” I yelled. I jumped up to look at him, happy to hear his new word, “You said Shiloh!”

Dwight said nothing, but he bobbed his head and eyed me like we shared a secret.

“Shiloh, Shiloh, Shiloh,” I repeated loudly to Dwight. Then I panicked and looked at my phone to make sure I hadn’t accidentally stayed on the line just to be overheard by Shiloh. What would she think of me calling out her name like that? She’d think I was some obsessed stalker. The call had definitely ended.

“Shiloh! Shiloh Shiloh! Say Shiloh, Dwight!” I called, but Dwight just looked at me.

The phone, still in my hand, rang. I was so startled that I answered it without even reading the caller ID. Now Dwight repeated his new word, “Shiloh!”

“Hello?” I said, thinking it might be Shiloh calling to say she’d changed her mind.

“Hi, Al.” Mickey.

“Hi, Mickey,” I said, my already panicky heart giving a little lurch in my chest.

“Hey, how are you?”

I took a deep breath, trying to loosen my ribcage. “I’m okay, how are you?”

“Not too bad,” she said, “not too bad at all.” I tried to lower the protective barrier I felt go up as I listened to Mickey’s voice on the phone. I’d definitely need to deal with the frayed end of our relationship. Before I did, I’d need to deal with my frayed nerves and get rid of this emotional blockage. Throughout our conversation, Dwight practiced his new word. Shiloh, Shiloh, Shiloh.

 

Book of Shadows

Spell to Break Through Blockage

 

Cast the circle around the bathtub.

Burn myrrh.

“Blessed be Creatures of Light.”

Light tiny white candles on tin plate to bring luck.

Greet and honor the four directions and the universal elements.

“Thank you, essential oils of anise, frankincense, rose and vetiver

for allowing me to recharge and re-energize my life and to break through

the blockage that has enveloped me.

I will take the best you have to offer,

and in return, allow my blocked energies to wash down the drain

when we are done.”

Three drops of each oil go into the tub of water.

A small handful of salt follows the oils.

A good soaking ensues.

“As the water is drained, so is my blocked energy.

Replacing it is a wealth of decisiveness and creativity.”

Pull the plug.

Thank the four directions and the universal elements.

“Blessed be Creatures of Light.”

Extinguish candles.

Open the circle.

Chapter Fifteen

Reunion

Blair’s blond hair, whipping around her face as she turned to bitch at Tootie in Mrs. Garrett’s kitchen, made me realize how happy I was to not have fallen into that beauty trap as a teenager. Blair was all about being gorgeous, Tootie was all about being mischievous and cute and so far this whole
Facts of Life
episode was based on these two rubbing each other the wrong way. I watched the rerun waiting for something to click inside my head or heart. Why had Dr. Browning suggested I watch TV shows that I had seen as a teenager? I was supposed to be reflecting on things that I had perceived as crises during my teen years, but honestly, what good was that going to do? Had I ever really had any crises when I was a teen?

Ah, now that’s more like it. Jo Polniaczek had entered Mrs. Garrett’s kitchen and was successfully changing the subject thereby ending the commotion Blair and Tootie were creating. A huge, juvenile grin plastered itself across my face as I noted Jo’s softball jersey and hair feathered back into a ponytail. Back in the day, Jo had been my sole reason for watching this show. There weren’t that many TV characters that I had lusted over as a teenager, but Jo was certainly the cream of a very small crop. She was tops, always showing up in scenes with motor oil smeared seductively across one cheek, holding a wrench, talking about getting new parts for her motorcycle. No one had ever alluded to her sexual orientation on the show, but really with the softball jersey and motor oil—who needed to question it? She was hot. And she was as gay as I was.

I was disappointed when the phone rang because Jo was still in the scene. I considered not answering it but then a commercial started, so I grabbed the phone before the voice mail kicked in. It was Trisha, heading out to happy hour after work and inviting me to join her and a few friends.

“Sure, thanks for thinking of me,” I told her.

“We’re heading over to The Chatterbox,” she said, “I should be there by five thirty, but Elizabeth and Heather are there already. They’ve been there a few hours, so this could be interesting,” Trisha laughed. “Oh, and Elizabeth and Daniel just broke up again. So, well…it could be very interesting.”

“Okay,” I said, panicking slightly, “okay.” I silently took a deep breath. Elizabeth and Heather were friends of Mickey’s and mine. It had been a long time since I’d seen them. Heather was an easygoing soul, but Elizabeth was one to watch out for—she always made me uneasy. She had a habit of going for my jugular. Mickey used to say it was jealousy on Elizabeth’s part, but I never figured out what made her jealous, so I wasn’t sure Mickey was right about that. I didn’t want Trisha to know that I had any reservations about seeing friends that I hadn’t seen since I was with Mickey, so I steeled myself up and said, “Right. I’ll be there and thanks for the heads-up about Daniel. Will you let them know I’m coming?”

“No problem and yes, I will,” Trisha said.

I tried to think of a plausible excuse for not showing up at The Chatterbox. I was not ready to see Elizabeth and Heather. They were, I was sure, still in close contact with Mickey, which shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it did. It made me feel at a disadvantage, as if I had been second choice as a friend for them. Ahhh-ha. Now here was one of my teenaged crises that still came up as often as did weeds in my garden. Being excluded by friends had always constituted a crisis for me. As a kid I enjoyed being alone only if by choice. When I wanted someone around, I really wanted someone around. Alaina and Falina had usually been good in a pinch but nothing was worse than when a friend chose someone else for sleepovers or hanging out. Ooh, yes, those were crisis times.

BOOK: Laughing Down the Moon
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