Amy followed Millie into the dining room. She was thankful that the onesie had traction soles so she didn’t slide to her death on the wood floor of the dining room. With much pulling and pushing they finally got the leaf in the table. By the time they were done, Amy was sweating. “These things are kind of hot,” she said, fanning herself with a bingo card.
“No worries, Clara is bringing over her portable A/C. In the bingo hall the temperature is set on freezing, that’s how we came up with the onesie idea. Believe me, you’ll be thankful for it.”
“Wait a minute. I have to wear this thing in public?”
“Of course.” Millie was spared further discussion by the doorbell. “That’ll be them.” She dashed for the door. Amy followed.
Millie opened the door to reveal two older women. Clara was tall, regal, and handsome. She had white hair, cut short, and penetrating green eyes. She was dressed in a Batman onesie. The other woman, Mabel, was short. Very short. The top of her head only came up to Amy’s chest. She had a salt and pepper flat top and was the very definition of cute. Rosy cheeks, turned up nose, and violet eyes.
Mabel narrowed those violet-colored eyes at Amy. “How come she gets to be Wonder Woman?” she asked, jabbing a finger at Amy.
“She needs it to build her confidence,” Millie said without missing a beat. “Amy is very insecure.”
“I am…” Amy was cut short. She was going to say “I am not,” before Millie gave her the “just work with me on this,” look.
“It’s still not fair. No one even knows who the Green Lantern is. He’s practically a non-entity when it comes to superheroes,” Mabel groused.
Clara intervened. “You know that the bingo crowd loves you in your cute little green suit.”
“They call me a leprechaun,” Mabel said. “Or say things like ‘Hey, Keebler, bring me one of those cookies.’”
“A leprechaun is lucky. That’s why we win most of the time,” Clara said, handing the brownies to Millie. Mabel thrust the Spam and pickles on a stick at Amy.
“I’ll get the A/C going and Lucky Charms here can set up the cards,” Clara said. She winked at Mabel who swatted at her in return.
“Just for that you’re not getting any tonight,” Mabel said.
Amy nearly dropped the Spam sticks. She scurried after Millie to the kitchen. She set the platter on the counter. “They’re lesbians?” Amy whispered. “They’re lovers?”
“Oh, that.”
“What do you mean ‘oh, that?’” Amy asked.
“I mean, it’s no big deal. I know lots of lesbians. I’m an honorary lesbian myself. Those two have been together ever since Mabel’s divorce. Clara has loved Mabel forever, it just took her a while to tell Mabel.”
“Like how long?”
“Oh, about twenty-five years,” Millie said. She dished out the pizza rolls, and Spam sticks onto several paper plates. The brownies she left on the platter.
“Why so long?” Amy asked. Twenty-five years, she thought. I don’t want that to happen to me and Parker.
“Well, for starters, Mabel was married. Secondly, Clara went to San Francisco because she was gay, but moved back after Mabel shot her husband. She stood by her during the trial and afterwards, Clara confessed to Mabel that she had loved her forever. It was very romantic.”
“What did Mabel say?” Amy asked, imagining the romance of the moment—two women standing outside the courtroom, revealing their hearts to each other.
“She didn’t say much of anything. After Clara’s heartfelt declaration, Mabel slapped her right across the face.”
“Why’d she do that?”
“Because Mabel had loved Clara her whole life. When Clara left, Mabel did what she thought she had to, which was marry Bert, who was an abusive bastard from the start. Mabel didn’t understand why Clara had deserted her. She thought she wasn’t worth anything to Clara and Clara thought that her being gay in a small town was not safe. She didn’t want to risk ruining Mabel’s life by opening up that big ole can of gay worms. So she hightailed it to San Francisco. It was the desertion that drove Mabel into Bert’s arms,” Millie said. “So, she slapped Clara for waiting so long to tell her.”
“Oh, my god,” Amy said.
“I hope you learn a lesson from them,” Millie said.
Amy knew what she meant. “I won’t wait twenty-five years, I promise. And I won’t hightail it off to anywhere.”
“Good. Now, let’s play bingo!”
They carried the plates loaded with finger food to the dining room. Clara had the A/C on-wheels up and running. It hummed in a corner of the dining room with its vents aimed at the table.
Amy felt cooler immediately. “This is so much better.”
Mabel fanned out eight cards in front of the four chairs at the table. “Just be glad that you get to wear superhero jammies and not the other teams’ stuff. You got yourself on the best team. We’ve needed a fourth ever since Evelyn’s family carted her off to California. They put her in a nursing home closer to them so they could not visit her. All they did was take her away from her friends, park her somewhere else halfway across the country, and call it taking care of her. What a lot of hooey.” She snatched a brownie off the platter and crammed it in her mouth. That didn’t stop her from talking however. “And don’t even get me started,” she said between chews, “on what that did to her partner, Glen.”
Mabel put the period on the end of the story by sitting down. Amy followed suit. No one said anything. Millie passed out the daubers. Amy didn’t need to ask what happened to Evelyn and Glen. She already knew—legally, families trumped lovers. Glen didn’t have the law behind her, so Evelyn’s family had full control. If they wanted to yank her away from the person who had loved and supported her for her entire adult life, they could do that. Because the law was on their side.
Mabel picked up a Spam stick and thrust it at her. “Try it,” she said.
Amy smiled tightly and did as bid. She took a bite and without chewing, swallowed hard.
“Wow, you must’ve been hungry,” Mabel said.
Amy refrained from saying that Mabel didn’t have room to talk—she’d crammed yet another entire brownie in her mouth. Amy took another bite. This time she chewed. The salty taste of the Spam played against the sweetness of the bread and butter pickles slices. She tried another bite. “These aren’t bad,” Amy said.
Mabel beamed. “Another convert. Spam is a hard sell but once you’ve given it an honest try you like it.”
Clara and Millie smiled indulgently at Mabel. Despite her gruff demeanor, Mabel, in her little green onesie, was adorable.
“All right, let’s get this party started,” Millie said. “I think Clara should call and Mabel can do both her cards and Clara’s. I’ll help Amy. Then we can switch it up with each bingo.”
“Get another Spam stick and pizza roll in your belly. You’ll need the stamina,” Mabel told Amy.
Amy ate two pizza rolls, another Spam stick, and then a brownie while Clara set up the ball cage for pulling the bingo letter and number combos. The brownies were divine. Mabel was on her third brownie and looking very contented. Must be the double fudge, Amy thought.
“Oh, crap, I forgot the lemonade,” Millie said, “I’ll be right back.”
“Let me help,” Mabel said. “I’ll carry the pitcher. You’re not strong enough to carry the pitcher and the glasses. That pitcher weighs about fifty pounds on its own.”
No one contradicted Mabel. Amy knew that Millie was strong enough. After all, she’d seen her hoist boxes full of crap up into the Dumpster. Millie was no weakling. Amy had a feeling that nobody dared to cross Mabel.
They left the room. Amy reached for another brownie. Clara stayed her hand. “I wouldn’t have another one for a little bit, hon.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be a glutton. They’re just so good.”
“It’s not that. These are Alice’s brownies.”
“Huh?”
“As in Alice B.
Toklas, Gertrude Stein’s wife. She was famous for making pot brownies for all those Left-Bank groupies.”
“Pot? For real?” Amy asked. Since when did old ladies sit around munching on pot brownies?
“Yes, I make them for Mabel when we go out. It keeps her calm, otherwise we’re all forced to deal with the social version of the Tasmanian Devil.”
Mabel and Millie returned. Mabel carried the pitcher of lemonade and Millie had the four glasses. Amy could hardly see Mabel from behind the pitcher. She almost dropped it when she tripped over the hem of her Green Lantern onesie, but Clara grabbed her arm in time.
“This thing is out to get me,” Mabel said after she’d set the lemonade down. She straightened out her onesie.
“It’s your attitude towards it. If you’d embrace your inner Green Lantern, I think you’ll find that things will go smoother,” Millie said. She took her seat next to Amy and popped a pizza roll in her mouth.
“Are we ready now?” Mabel asked. “I’m channeling my inner bingo warrior.” She took a bite of her Spam and pickles.
“Yes,” Millie said. “Amy, any questions before we begin?”
“Sort of. I thought bingo was a singular game, not a team sport. So why do you have a team and are you the only members?” Amy pulled her notebook out of her onesie pocket.
Mabel raised a victory fist in the air, saying, “Because it takes a village to win a tournament.”
Amy vaguely recalled Hillary Clinton saying that, but she was fairly certain it had pertained to child-rearing.
“Can you elaborate on that?” Amy asked.
“Certainly,” Mabel said. “We play on a team because it increases the odds of winning. And we split the pot.”
“We started it and then others followed the trend. There’s nothing in the bingo rule book against having teams. Besides, it makes it more fun,” Clara said.
“That makes sense,” Amy said, writing. “What are the other teams like?”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” Millie said.
Amy smiled. She didn’t know if it was the power of the brownies or what, but she was beginning to like bingo.
***
Amy lay in bed, thinking over the night’s events. By the time Millie and her crew were finished with her, she had a pretty good handle on how bingo worked. She wasn’t quick with the dauber yet, but Millie assured her they’d work on dauber speed over breakfast. She still had bingo call numbers running around in her head, when she heard a tap tap tap noise on her window.
She ignored it at first, chalking it up to the groans of an old house. Millie had told her that the house had gotten a bunch of new squeaks because of all the fracking going on. The tap tap tap started up again. This time, Amy got out of bed.
Wondering whether she should have a weapon, she glanced around the room. She decided on a heavy glass vase that held a small bouquet of plastic forget-me-nots. She put the flowers on the dresser, and holding the vase in weapon mode, she peeked through the curtain. What she saw caused her to gasp and jump backwards.
It was Parker’s smiling face, looking at her through the window. Amy put the vase down and opened the window.
“Were you going to clock me with that vase?” Parker asked.
“Only if you were a creeper come to murder me,” Amy said.
“I am kind of a creeper. But not the murdering kind.”
“Do you always play Peeping Tom with girls who’ve kissed you?”
“Not always,” Parker said with a mischievous smile. Her face suddenly turned serious. “Look, Amy… I wanted to tell you that…” She lost her thread, took a deep breath and started over. “I wanted to tell you that I would like you in my life.”
“In your life how? You mean like dating?” Amy asked.
Parker stood on her toes, leaned in the window, pulled Amy closer, and kissed her. Amy melted in Parker’s embrace. Nothing else mattered. Only her lips. Parker’s lips. And the heat they generated. After what seemed like seconds, but was probably more like minutes, Amy pulled away. She whispered, “Want to come inside? We could make out like sneaky teenagers.”
Parker stroked Amy’s cheek. “As much as I’d like to, I better not. You know, I was serious when I said I want you in my life.”
“You’re turning me down?”
“Only because I want us to have, you know, a special night together.”
“When?”
“Come for dinner Saturday night? My place?”
“You’re on. Should I wear something slinky?”
“Most definitely,” Parker said. “The slinkier, the better.”
At that moment, a bright beam of light shined right on Parker’s face. She grimaced and turned toward the source of the light. It was the next-door neighbor Mr. Cooper.
“Put your hands up, you slimeball,” Mr. Cooper ordered. He raised his shotgun and intoned, “I’ve already called the police.”
“Crap,” Parker said. She put her hands up.
“I’ll handle it,” Amy said. “Mr. Cooper, it’s not a slimeball. It’s my friend.”
“How do I know the slimeball isn’t making you say that?” Mr. Cooper asked. “Ever since that dumbo Trump came along, everybody thinks they can take advantage. Well, not on my watch, they aren’t!”
“No, for real,” Amy said. But her next words faded away as a police car pulled up in front of the house with its red and blue lights flashing.
“Over here! The perp is over here!” Mr. Cooper yelled.
A police officer jumped out of the car. “I’ve got it, Mr. Cooper. Put your weapon down and go back inside. We’ll handle it from here,” the police officer said.
“Are you sure you’ve got this?” he asked.
“Yes. Leave this to the professionals,” the officer said.
“All right, but if you need back up, just holler.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Now, please go back in your house. With your gun.”
The old man slowly headed back to his house.
Parker whispered out the side of her mouth to Amy, “This is going to be embarrassing.” She lowered her hands.
“Keep your hands where we can see them,” the officer ordered.
“Rosa, it’s me. Parker.”
“Parker, what the hell are you doing?” Rosa asked. She moved closer and looked back and forth between Amy and Parker.
“I’m talking to Amy. What does it look like?”
“Well, it looks like you’re trying to burgle a house,” Rosa said. “Or strangle a poor woman in her sleep.”
“When was the last time we had a strangling burglar in town?” Parker asked, her hands still up in the air.
“Last year for the burglary and there’s never been a strangling,” Amy said.
Rosa and Parker both looked at her.
“I’ve been going through the paper’s archives,” Amy explained with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Can I put my hands down now?” Parker asked.
“Yes,” Rosa said. “Unless Amy wants to press charges.”
“For what?” Parker asked.
“Impersonating a criminal,” Rosa said.
Amy heard someone behind her. She quickly turned and saw Millie holding a baseball bat. “What’s going on?” Millie hissed.
“I’m talking to Parker and Rosa,” Amy explained.
“Why the police lights?” Millie asked.
“Hold on, I better turn those off before Parker has to explain why she’s at Amy’s window to everyone in the neighborhood.” She stopped and grinned mischievously. “Now that I think about it, that could be really funny.”
“Rosa, please,” Parker said.
“Oh, all right,” Rosa said. She ran back to her squad car.
“Next time you have a party, I want to be invited,” Millie said with a pouty voice.
“Tell Parker. She’s the one who started it all,” Amy retorted.
The patrol car lights stopped flashing. Rosa came back. “Now, for my report I need an explanat
ion.”
For the second time, Parker said, “This is going to be embarrassing.”
“I’ll do it,” Amy said.
“Someone better,” Millie said. “It’s 2 a.m. already.”
“I’m sorry we woke you up,” Parker said.
“I’m yanking your chain,” Millie said. “I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” Rosa asked.
“Give you an explanation,” Millie said.
Amy glanced at Parker who shrugged her shoulders. This should be interesting, Amy thought.
“Amy and Parker are trying to one-up each other in the romance department. Amy kissed Parker. Parker sent flowers. Then she shows up at Amy’s window to declare her undying love.”
“I didn’t…” Parker stopped. When all three stared at her wordlessly, Parker looked at her toes and added, “I didn’t get to declare anything. Your neighbor stopped me.” She walked off before anyone could stop her.
“I’ll need you to come down to the station tomorrow to make a full statement,” Rosa said to Parker’s retreating back.
“Shut up,” Parker said, without looking back.
“I’ll have to arrest you,” Rosa said. “Put out a warrant for your arrest.”
“And I will resist.” Parker said. She climbed in her van and drove away.
Mr. Cooper leaned out his window and called out, “Why didn’t they just say it was a lovers’ rendezvous?”
“Because Parker’s too shy,” Millie shouted back.
“That was Parker? I didn’t recognize her without my glasses. Tell her I’m sorry I about filled her backside with buckshot,” Mr. Cooper said.
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Rosa said.
Mr. Cooper slammed his window shut. After a few seconds, the lights went out inside his house.
“I can’t wait to tell Steph all about this,” Rosa said. She turned and walked back to her squad car, whistling all the way.
Chapter Seventeen
The next afternoon, Amy was having a hard time concentrating on her job. She kept thinking about her impending date night with Parker and the something slinky she had promised to wear.
She glanced over at Jeb who was engrossed in his own newspaper’s crossword puzzle. “How does the old codger come up with these words?” he muttered, tapping his pencil on his desk.
Heart to Heart Page 17