Panties for Sale (11 page)

“No, I don’t need you for anything else tonight.
 
All the girls are finished. What? Me? No, I
don’t need anything.” Angela laughed.
 
“Oh
I’m sure you would, but no. Not tonight.
 
Go home.” Angela hung up the phone.
 
She picked up her cigarette and wandered over to the window.
 
She pushed the glass open and stood gazing
out over the twinkling lights of the neighbourhood for a moment, and then shook
her head and flicked her cigarette out the window.

Dear Diary,

That god damned Ahmed.
 
He is one son of a bitch.
 
I don’t know what to do about him.
 
He’s a good driver though.
 
And he tries his best.
 
He has a good heart.
 
Yeah, he’s a funny guy.
 
And smart too.
 
Not just about money.
 
About the girls.
 
He doesn’t like that Alex.
 
Too stuck up he says.
 
He doesn’t think she’ll stick around.
 
He’s usually right, but I don’t know.
 
I think she might. She likes money.
 
That I know.
 
She’s got that fancy car of hers.
 
And she’ll make lots of money.
 
She wants attention too.
 
I don’t
know why.
 
But you know, she might be
more in it for the attention then the money.
 
I wonder why she is so damned insecure.
 
She’s sexy as hell.
 
If I had
those boobs, damn, my life would have been easier.
 
What am I saying?
 
My boobs worked pretty good for me, hell they
still are working damned good for me.
 
Hello to the girls!
 

Alex, she had her first
appointment today.
 
She said it went
well.
 
Didn’t give out many details.
 
Wonder if she is a tight lipped one?
 
You wouldn’t think so.
 
I thought she’d be more of a tell-all.
  
And I wanted to hear all about that
appointment.
 
Her client sounds goddamned
gorgeous. And rich!
 
Don’t know where
he’s from though. He wouldn’t say. Mr. Cohen.
 
That’s his name.
 
Don’t know if
that’s French.
 
But his accent!!!!.
 
Got me wet just making the damn
appointment.
 
Actually he wouldn’t say
much, either.
  

Of course, they don’t have
to.
 
Clients don’t usually.
 
But I like to know.
 
Makes it a bit more interesting.
 
Of course, Dora thinks that he’s using a fake
name.
 
That he’s married.
 
She said he’s way too good to be true.
 
Probably is.
 
Single men don’t pay for escorts.
 
Unless they’re in rap videos, or they are cold as ice. .

Went to Luann today.
 
Haven’t been writing this journal as much as
I should, she said.
 
I don’t know
why.
 
It’s a waste of time.
 
My time is too precious for this shit.
 
Sitting and writing dumb shit that happens in
my day.
 
But she said it’s important.
 
She thinks I have some horrible rage bottled
up inside of me.

“Hello?”

A tall stocky man in ripped jeans and cowboy boots opened
the door.
 
He took off his baseball cap
and threw it on the bed as he walked through the office.
 
Scratching his head, he walked slowly into
the sun room and sank down into the arm chair.
  
Putting his half finished bottle of Molson’s Canadian down on the coffee
table, he grabbed Angela’s cigarette case.
 
“You are home late.”

“Yeah,” he pulled out a lighter from his pocket and lit a
cigarette. “I had some paperwork to do.”
“Is that what we are calling it now?
 
Paperwork?”

“Angela, don’t do this,” the man sighed and pulled at a rip
in the knee of his faded jeans, “you know what it is.
 
I am busy at work.
 
That’s it.
 
Don’t read things into shit that isn’t there.”

“Fine,” Angela sighed and took a sip of her wine.
 
She leaned back into her chair and stared at
her husband.
 
“Of course, I’m just
tired.”

“Me too.”
 
The man
took a swig of his beer. “I was thinking,” he said slowly, “of having a hot
tub.
 
Want me to heat the old baby
up?
 
Like old times?
 
Have a bit of fun?”

Angela laughed.
 
Old
memories came flooding back to her. Of times when the hot tub was fun.
 
When her and John slipped naked and oily into
the hot tub.
 
Times when they couldn’t
keep their hands off each other.
 
When
she would sit on top of him and fuck him until they both screamed. He would
grab her ass and pump her up and down, sweat dripping down his face.
 
And he would look up at her and reach for her
face, kissing her face, moaning her name, pleading with her never to stop.
 
“No,” Angela put her wine glass down and
picked up her notebook, “I’ve got some stuff to do here.”

He stood up and walked behind the couch.
 
He placed his strong hands on her
shoulders.
 
“It would relax you.”
 
He whispered, leaning his face close to her
ear so she could feel his hot breath on her skin.
 
He began to knead the tight knots with his
long fingers while his lips gently brushed her neck.
 

Angela wriggled out of his reach and grabbed her glass of
wine.
 
“Just go to bed.
 
I’ll come up later.”

“Yeah?
 
Ok.”
 
He kissed the top of her head and grabbed his
beer off the table.
 
When the door
closed,
 
Angela put down her glass and
let out a long sigh.

Like I’m going to fall for
that!!!!

This was our little
hideaway.
 
Our hot tub, our solarium, and
our huge bed.
 
With the mirror on
top.
 
God what has that mirror seen?
 
Ha!
 
Not much lately.
 
Lots of pillows
and photo shoots.
 
No more excitement.
 
I guess that’s just how it works.
 
It comes and it goes.
 
I can’t help it.
 

Luann said its ok.
 
I don’t have to have sex with my
husband.
 
She thinks we are just having a
lull.
 
She doesn’t know how he became my
husband.
 
I wonder if she would consider
us really married?
 

Sure we got married.
 
Of course we’re married.
 
When we get divorced that prick will get half
of what I’ve got.
 
Ha!
 
But no one knows what I got.
 
Not all of it.
 
Sure some of it.
 
The credit card and website stuff.
 
But that’s nothing compared with the
cash.
 
Shit.
 
I need to set up a separate bank
account.
 
Get Dora to do that.
 
I don’t want anything in my name that he can
get his hands on.
 
Why should he have
what’s mine?
 
He doesn’t want it
anyways.
 
He doesn’t approve of it.
 
All of a sudden, he has got morals?
 
Why did he marry me in the first place?
 
He knew bloody well what I did.
 

Luann says lots of women my
age aren’t having sex with their husbands.
 
Lots of women are sick of men.
 
Sick of looking after and cleaning and servicing. My new word -
Servicing.
 
Ha!
 
Luann said lots of women run away and become
lesbians.
 
I don’t know about that.
 
I’m no dyke.
 
Nope.
 
And I can’t run away.
 
Where would I go?
 
Can’t leave my boys.
  

So no, John, I don’t want to
have a hot tub with you.
 
Have some
fun?
 
Where is the fun?
 
You can just get up on top and do your
thing.
 
Well, at least he doesn’t cry
anymore.
 
He used to.
 
I don’t know if he knows I know.
  
But when we used to make love, in the
beginning he’d cry.
 
Over her. I
know.
 
Even on our bloody wedding day.
 
There he was sat in the bathroom crying.
 
Son of a bitch.
 
And me, smiling to the guests, trying to
pretend that it was ok.
 
No, no, he’ll be
right out.
 
Yes. I can fix it.
 
I can heal it.
 
Jesus Christ.

But I wanted those boys.
 
They are my boys now.
 
They needed a good mother.
 
And he couldn’t deal with it all.
 
Just buried his wife.
 
Gorgeous wife too.
 
Lucky, so my boys are going to be
handsome.
 
They needed him to be strong.
Need him to be strong now.
 
So they can
be strong.
 
And they needed me.
 
Do I want him to leave?
 
I don’t know.
 
I can’t decide. The boys need to see us together right?
 
Two happy parents so they will believe in love.
 
They’ve got to believe in love.
 

Chieko stood just outside the doorway of the crowded
classroom and peeked in.

“Yes? Hello. Please come in,” a middle aged woman looked up
from her desk and smiled.

“Is this the English Conversation?”

“Yes, please, come in, sit down,” the woman nodded in the
direction of the seats. “Now, you must be Chico?”

“Chieko, yes,” Chieko bowed slightly.
 
She scanned the small classroom for an empty
seat.
 
The small desks were arranged
around the outside of the room in a semi circle and it seemed, were all full of
students either talking together or reading with their heads down. As Chieko
walked into the center of the room looking for an empty seat, the classroom
grew silent.
 
As everyone turned to stare
at her, Chieko looked back at the teacher for help, but she was concentrating
on the notes on her clipboard. Finally Chieko spotted a chubby Chinese woman
removing her bags from the chair beside her, and Chieko gratefully slipped into
the empty seat.
 

“Ok,” the teacher looked up and clapped her hands together.
“I think that’s everyone.
 
So let’s
begin, shall we?
 
Welcome to English Conversation
101.
 
I am Ms. Macdonald.
 
Now,” she said speaking slowly and clearly
enunciating each word, “this is beginning English Conversation. All of you
should be able to understand what I am saying now.
 
You are able to read and write in English and
are here to practice your conversation skills.
 
Is that right?”

All the students nodded their heads in unison.

“Good. OK.
 
I believe
most of you have just recently arrived here in Canada.
  
So, welcome to Toronto,” she paused to smile at the
students.
 
“You have probably noticed
many people are here from different countries.
 
So it will be exciting to discover where everyone is from. First let me
explain our class. We will meet twice a week, at this time.
 
For each class, I want you to bring two
questions that you have, or two problems or situations that happened to you
over the week. Things that you don’t understand.
 
We can try to solve them together.” Ms.
Macdonald wrote
1. Two Questions
on
the white board.
 
“Don’t worry if they
seem simple or strange,” she continued.
 
“Maybe your question will help out others.
 
I will also give you a vocabulary list that
you must study and research.
 
Each word must
be written in a sentence and handed in at the beginning of the class.”
 
Ms. Macdonald turned back to the board and
wrote
2. Vocabulary
. “During the class we will review the
proper use for each word.
 
And finally,
everyone,” she smiled, “yes, everyone will have to speak in each class.” Ms.
Macdonald wrote
3. Everyone Speaks!
“Ok? Are you ok so far?
 
Any questions?”

Chieko’s seat was the closest to the teacher’s desk.
 
She realized with horror that Ms. Macdonald
would probably start with her, so she lowered her head and tried to become
invisible as possible.
 
An older
gentleman wearing a strange turban on his head raised his hand and Chieko
breathed a sigh of relief.

As he was speaking, Chieko scanned the crowded room. Ms.
Macdonald was right. Everyone looked so different. There were a few young girls
huddled together. They looked so nervous yet so excited, Chieko guessed that
they were on a language exchange. She knew lots of girls in high school that
came over to Canada
to study English after they graduated. These girls looked Chinese, though.
 
Probably from Hong Kong, Chieko thought,
judging from their expensive clothes and Coach bags. Chieko looked back at the
man speaking, she had never seen a man wearing a turban up close.
 
Does that mean he never cuts his hair, she
wondered?
 
His voice was so low and he
talked so slow, she didn’t have a clue what he was saying.
 
Something about a subway and a finch?
 
A bird?
 
Wait, Finch.
 
That’s a subway
stop.
 
Maybe that is where he lives.
 
As she watched him talk, Chieko’s eyes were
drawn to a thick gold watch he wore around his wrist. It matched the thick gold
chain he wore around his neck.
 
It
sparkled in the florescent lights as he waved his hands frantically in the air.

There were two short women in tight blue jeans and high
heels sandals. They were chewing gum, loudly.
 
The colour on their long finger nails and toe nails matched.
 
Purple glitter.
 
Philippines.
 
Chieko guessed.
 
They had to be.
 
But, why are they here? Chieko wondered.
 
Didn’t they speak English in the Philippines?
 
Oh!
 
Who is that? Chieko glanced back again to get a better look at the boy
sitting beside the Filipino girls. He looked nice.
 
Tall.
 
Cute.
 
Was he Korean?
 
He didn’t look Japanese.
 
But, he had nice hands, with long graceful
fingers.
 
Chieko blushed as the boy
looked up and caught her eye.
 
She turned
quickly in her seat and focused all her attention on the front of the
class.
 
She hoped no one had noticed how
flushed her cheeks had just become.
 

“Wonderful.
 
Next?
 
Who would like to go
next?
 
Any volunteers?”
 
Ms. Macdonald looked directly at Chieko who
shrank down in her seat, pretending to search for something very important in
her bag. “Don’t worry,” Ms. Macdonald laughed, “Chico, you don’t have to go just yet.
 
I’ll let someone else go.
 
You can go later when you feel more
comfortable.”

The chubby woman beside her raised her hand. “Yes, Miss
Chan?”

“Yes, hello.
 
I am
Mrs Chan,” the woman began slowly. “But you can please to call me Grace.
 
I want to come to here to learning
English.
 
My son, he talk the English
very well,” she said proudly.
 
“And so he
want me to talk too.
 
So I can help grandson.
 
I come to Canada only one years.
 
My husband, he die, so I must come live with
son.
 
My son is good son, but I don’t
like wife.
 
She is not good cook.” Chieko
covered her mouth and giggled.
 
She felt
sorry for Miss Chan’s daughter in law.
 
Chinese mother-in-laws were notorious for being very strict and critical
of their son’s wives.
 
“I am a good
cook.”

“Wonderful, Mrs Chan.
 
I hope you will cook us something special and bring it to class one
day!
 
Now, where are you from?”

“I come from Gangzhou, in China,”

“Oh, how lovely.
 
Beautiful place.” Ms Macdonald clapped her hands.
 
“You are very lucky!
 
I went to Gangzhou once.
 
During the spring, the blossoms on the trees
were so beautiful.
 
Ah, and the
dumplings.
  
So delicious.
 
Can you make dumplings?”

Miss Chan smiled and nodded vigorously.
 

“Wonderful,” Ms Macdonald smiled warmly at Miss Chan.
 
Chieko wondered how Ms. Macdonald could smile
so much. “Next?”

“Yeah, ok, I can go,” a deep voice said.
 
Chieko looked around for the voice and felt
herself blushing again.
 
It was the cute
boy.
 
“I’m Jay.
 
I’m from Korea.
 
Seoul.
 
I come to Canada for study.
 
I am study at the university.
 
And the computers.” Chieko was
impressed.
 
He was smart too. Studying
computers at university.
 
“But it is
difficult to speak,” Jay looked shyly at the floor, “and to make the friends in
my class.
 
So I want to speak
better.
 
I think this class can help me,
yes?”
 
He looked at Ms. Macdonald then
nodded to the rest of the class.

“Wonderful, Korea. Cum-sa-ha-mi-da,” Ms. Macdonald clasped
her hands together and bowed at Jay.
 
“Fascinating place.
 
You must let
me know if you need kimchi.
 
I know a
wonderful grocery store just around the corner that makes the best kimchi.”

“Oh really?”
 
Jay
asked, “you like kimchi?”

“Oh yes, it is delicious.
 
Very hot and spicy.
 
Kimchi,” she
explained to the rest of the class, “is a spicy fermented cabbage, with lots of
spicy go-chu-jang.
 
Hot pepper
paste.
 
It is very popular in Korea.”

Chieko smiled, as the rest of the class nodded and then
bent their heads down to write in their notebooks.
 
Korea, she thought, I knew that.
 

“Ok, who is next?”

Chieko turned to look out the window as another student
volunteered to go.
 
What was she going to
say when it was her turn?
 
She couldn’t say
the truth.
 
She just couldn’t.
 
Everyone would be horrified.
 
What would Jay think?
 
Maybe she should say she was married.
 
But, she wasn’t.
 
And she didn’t want Jay to think she
was.
 
Maybe a student?
 
Yes, she could say she was a student.
 
That would work.
 
She pulled out her cell phone to check the
time.
 
2:15. Ahmed was scheduled to pick
her up at 7:00.
 

It was another new client.
 
Mr. Cullen?
 
Chieko was starting
to get tired of new clients.
 
It was so
stressful just before the appointment, worrying: what would they look
like.
 
Would they would be nice?
 
Would they like her?
 
Angela said Chieko had “to be stronger and
more confident.
 
Don’t let the man
lead.
 
You gently lead him.
 
“Do this,” Angela had told her, “Imagine
exactly what you are going to do before you get to the appointment.
 
Picture in your mind exactly what you are
going to wear, what you will say and what you will do.
 
Imagine every step you will take.
 
And then, picture your client enjoying
everything you do.
 
And then you will be
successful.”

Chieko closed her eyes and pictured herself knocking on a
wooden hotel door.
 
She was wearing her
new black suit with the short skirt.
 
Her
legs were bare and she was wearing her new pink high heels.
 
She was carrying a Louis Vuitton purse on her
shoulder and wearing a shiny diamond bracelet around her wrist.
 
And a ring on her finger to match.
 
If she was going to picture her being
successful, she should at least picture herself looking good.
 
“Hello,” a deep voice said as the door
opened.
 
Chieko walked into the empty
room and gasped as Jay walked out from behind the door.
 
He was holding a bouquet of large pink roses.
“Chieko,” he smiled, “I’m glad I found you.
 
I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”
 

“But how did you know I would be here?”

“I followed you,” Jay said.
 
“I had to know more about you. I was afraid you wouldn’t like me, if you
thought I was just a student.
 
You are so
beautiful, you must have many boyfriends.
 
So I had to surprise you.”

“But, I’m a,” Chieko started to explain.
 

“No,” Jay put his finger on her lips. “Don’t talk,” he
pulled her close to him; so close she could barely breathe. “I don’t care.
 
It doesn’t matter,” he looked deep into her
eyes.
  
“All that matters is that I love
you.”
 

“Oh Jay,” Chieko murmured and lowered her head against his
chest.

“Chieko,” Jay held her tighter, lifting her face up to his.
“Chieko, you are perfect just the way you are.”
 
He leaned down and kissed her.
 
His lips were soft and gentle at first but Chieko could feel his intensity
as he pressed his lips harder to hers.
 
“Chieko, Chieko,” Jay groaned as he buried his face in her hair, kissing
the back of her neck.