“He’s ready for you.” A Navy chief dressed in his crisp khaki uniform pointed to Thomas. Culver—I read his nametag with my special ninja move. Bruce Lure taught us to see without seeing. The Chief was perhaps ten years older than me. He had warm chocolate brown eyes and he smiled a bright white smile. I made many assessments of his physical features, which I was getting very good at since taking on this secret shopping business. It happened whether I liked it or not. I could tell you the outfits and hairstyles of my librarian for the past month if you really wanted to know.
I offered el Jefe a half smile as thanks. If the kind Chief was flirting with me at all, I couldn’t tell. Bradley plucked me from the grapevine so early that I never developed a sense of my feminine powers. I didn’t know how to work it so to speak.
About a year before I was engaged, I went out to a karaoke club with Rachel. We were both eighteen, which used to be the legal drinking age on Guam. I think it should have been twenty one, but maybe that’s because my cousin died after he got drunk and plowed into a concrete power pole on his eighteenth birthday. A couple of military guys flirted with us, at least that’s what Rachel said. She kept nudging me to mingle with them, even though I was only on a break with Bradley for the weekend. We had one of our first major blowouts, but Rachel took that as a pass for me to meet other men.
One of the men, Isaac, was decent looking. His blue eyes I remembered the most. He jokingly asked me to show some teeth, give him a smile. So, I did. I looked like a lioness baring my chompers and the look on his face was that of shock. I realized that Chief Culver was still eyeballing me as he cleared his throat and tilted his head at me towards Thomas.
“Oh, sorry, sir.” I stepped forward two paces and was suddenly looking at my Tuesday target. Maybe my dark sunglasses allowed Thomas to look directly at me, but I was sure he couldn’t see my eyes. I was speechless for a second as I looked at Thomas’s face. Seeing it whole for the first time was like seeing an entirely different person. His eyes were definitely gray and the opposite of creepy. He gave me a half smile, which made his eyes crinkle a bit. His height was intimidating when he corrected his posture. I shook my head to come out of my trance as Thomas cleared his throat. He waited for me to make a move. That move was to pick a sandwich.
“Sorry, can I get the Gua, I mean the, uh, Rock Lobster Sub?” I posed it as a question like he would tell me no.
“Sure. The works?” He asked, his face returning to a stoic mask. I nodded to affirm this and then he asked, “What size?”
“Oh, there are sizes?” I was really distracted today.
Thomas tapped his pen impatiently on his yellow notepad. I looked up at the board again and saw at the very top of the menu the three sizes: Just need a snack, Fill me up and Give it to me good. As tempted as I was to tell Thomas, Give it to me good, I couldn’t do it. I gave him a crooked smile instead. I wanted to maintain my weight loss with the hopes that Bradley might take me back, so I asked for the snack size. Thomas requested my name, his voice strumming my chest so unexpectedly. I said, “Sirena.”
Bruce recommended that we had a set list of fake monikers ready. I decided on Sarah for everything because of my love of Sarah McLachlan, but my brain froze. I must have been missing Guam, as I offered the name of my favorite Chamorro legend instead.
“S-I-R-E-N-A.” Thomas spelled the name of the legendary mermaid correctly, without hesitation. I watched the long creamy fingers of his left hand jot down my fake name in capital letters. He looked at me more closely and it seemed like he wanted to ask me something, but closed his plump lips instead. Maybe I wasn’t worth the question.
Thomas nodded his head and proceeded to the sandwich creating station. Alma waited for me to pay, her childlike smile greeting me. She rang up the order correctly and provided my receipt. I stood along the wall with the other customers, eagerly and hungrily awaiting our delights from Thomas the sandwich monger. I wondered why he was the only person actually making sandwiches. Maybe that was Tamara’s intent, keep us waiting, so in our starved state we would rave about how delectable the subs were. Everything tasted better if you let yourself get hungry enough, right?
Almost ten minutes later, while I checked for a text from Bradley, Thomas sang out, “Si, Si –Rey-na.” He sang the distinct tune for the Sirena song by Johnny Sablan, a Guam singer. Was it Thomas who had been to Guam? If I wasn’t on assignment, I would ask him about it, my curiosity piqued. My Guam pride strengthened now that I lived away from my home. Tamara looked amused that her brother was singing out my name, well my fake name. She hit him playfully on his arm and his faced transformed to a thing of beauty. Earlier, with his small smile I was only witnessing a flower bud, but now his face was natural and in full bloom. I surprised myself when an electric shock ran through my body, tickling the dormant places of my body. This was not a reaction I ever had for a man since being with Bradley.
Once Bradley chose me and we were together, I switched all those feelings off. I never lusted for another, never felt I needed to. Any tingles and feelings of desire were solely for Bradley. Even though Thomas stirred something in me, I wasn’t one to flirt or make my attraction known. I still held on to the hope that Bradley would come back to me.
Thomas didn’t look at me as I walked to the counter. Maybe he assumed I had no connection to Guam, since I wasn’t bronze or have ebony hair. His laughing eyes and flushed cheeks were reminiscent of someone. I couldn’t place the face, but I lingered a few seconds longer to watch him. I heard Tamara ask about the song and Thomas just shrugged and glanced quickly at me before he returned to the sandwich making counter. Alma smiled at me and raised her eyebrows, perhaps wondering if I wanted something more.
“He’s single by the way. At least for this week.” Alma commented, tilting her head back in Thomas’s direction. I noticed that Chief Culver turned his attention to us when Alma declared this. I didn’t know if she was serious about my chances with a man like that or just teasing. I opted for the latter possibility and got flustered. I hoped that Thomas didn’t hear Alma.
“Huh?” I was shocked back into reality. “No, I, um, I’m married.” I waved my left hand at her and grabbed my bagged sandwich. I bolted and wished my heels didn’t clack loudly as I exited. How could she even think I was interested? Was I really staring at him for that long? And, I was still married, technically.
I retreated to the safety of my Rav4, which I parked behind the strip mall. I didn’t want to be identified and on the field agent tips, parking away was highly suggested. I removed my jacket and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my silk blouse. I sat in my car, breathing heavily from the idea of even dating anyone again, Chief Culver—whom I noted did not have a wedding band on or Mr. I’ve Been to Guam Thomas.
I pulled out my Blackberry for the umpteenth time to check for a text or message from Bradley. I didn’t notice the approaching footsteps as I was about to check my voicemail. A light tapping on my window made me jump like a skittish colt. I immediately threw my jacket over my Lure documents and looked up slowly. I saw a gray t-shirt marked with the Bag It name. It was Thomas. My shirt was unbuttoned to my bra and it must have looked like I was having a hot flash. It was warm now that noon loomed. I didn’t hit the button to roll my window down, but yelled through the glass instead.
“Yes!?” My mind raced as I thought of reasons why he would knock on my window. He tapped each of his fingers on my window again. This time he lowered his face to look in. I saw the gold necklace and pendant that was described by a previous field agent. The pendant was intricate and beautiful. It looked like a Celtic symbol I once saw on a CD. Yes, I went through an Irish music phase in college. Thomas had an amused look on his face. I felt like a caged gorilla being gawked at by zoo visitors. Maybe he had a banana for me? Wow! My mind had not been in the gutter in a long time, even my dirty jokes were limp.
I wiped the hair that came loose from my ponytail out of my face and quickly put on my sunglasses. I rolled down the lightly tinted wind
ow a few inches and brought my lips to the opening space between us.
“What?” I asked, trying not to sound too mean, but failing.
“You forgot your chips and drink, ma’am.” Thomas was now eye to eye with me. I didn’t remember ordering a meal. Thomas’s eyes darted around the interior of my vehicle and his glance grazed lightly over my cleavage. Caught. Men will be men. Rachel once caught a deacon staring at her boobs. I wasn’t flattered at all by such behavior.
In the tenth grade, I kicked Jose’s jewels in P.E. class because he sneered and made a vulgar comment as I crouched opposite him during volleyball. This was before I knew what a sports bra was, satisfied with my undersized, ill-fitting K-mart two for ten dollar cotton bra. It was the first time I was sent to the principal’s office. Luckily Mrs. Flores, the discipline principal was a big-breasted woman herself. She heard me out and let me off with a warning and advice on proper boulder holders.
Modesty overwhelmed me and as I pulled my jacket to my chin, Thomas’s prying eyes landed on the Guam flag dangling from my rearview mirror. He smiled widely and his eyes did that thing that tickled my tummy. His iridescent eyes looked like horizontal crescent moons and his face took on an anime effect. When he smiled so brightly his eyes almost closed completely, which made him look younger in a flash. His long lashes made me jealous. His lips were a bit pink and glossy from when he licked them. Yes, I watched. They were pretty plump for a man, I thought. His teeth were immaculate, perfectly straight and white. My insides flip flopped again when his warm minty breath invaded my car. Maybe I was just light-headed from being really hungry.
“Are you from Guam, Sirena?” Thomas asked excitedly, pointing to the evidence.
“No. My husband is.” I stated rather bluntly. I felt trapped and I didn’t want to blow my cover. Although I was dying to know how he had any knowledge of Guam, I had to leave for more reasons than one.
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. Thomas looked over my face again, probably wondering what was lying beneath my huge sunglasses. “Well, you can come back to get your drink and chips, or I can bring it out to you if you tell me what you want.”
Tamara rounded the corner now and headed in our direction.
“Tom-Tom! People are waiting. Come on.” I was thankful that she went back to the shop. I smiled at the sound of a big sister calling her little brother by his pet name. I dropped my smile as soon as Tom-Tom returned his gaze to me.
“Well, ma’am?” I wished he would stop calling me “ma’am”—did I look that old? I shifted into drive. I would make things worse if I requested the additional food.
“I’m fine. I’m on a diet. Thanks.” And, then I drove off. Thomas stood there and watched my retreating car. I finally released my breath when I saw him turn around and walk back to the shop. I was able to make out that he wore a pair of plaid Chuck Taylor Converse shoes and I smiled liking his style.
Once I was a safe distance away from the shop I headed back onto the base. I made a quick decision to go to the military exchange. There was something I had been meaning to do since the hatchet came down on my marriage.
I picked out a box of blond hair dye. I flashed my military dependent card and paid with cash. My Blackberry chimed indicating that I had a text. It was Bradley.
be back in town by nxt wknd. Can you pick me up?
A dull pain started in my chest and then I realized I was gulping for air. If I texted back right away, would he think I was desperate? I decided to wait to respond and drove home on auto pilot. This was my husband, but because of the predicament he put me in, I didn’t know how to act. I hated not being in control of my feelings. I gripped my steering wheel tighter and drove a little faster. My Weezer CD blared in the background like the soundtrack of my day. I sang along with all my might, my voice wrought with all the dramatic flair I could conjure.
Once I hit the 54 West, I thought about our condo. It was still filled with Bradley’s things. He made no immediate plans to move. Before boot camp, we talked about moving up north together closer to Sacramento, to be near the Army base.
He gave me a list of things to do while he was at AI training. For the first time, as I thought about this, I was angry. I thought, how dare he put me on notice and still expect me to take care of his crap. Was I going to start his car up every other day anymore? Did I have to continue paying the bills? That was Bradley’s duty up until he decided to leave me. The condo was too large for me. I toyed with the idea of moving out. I really only needed a small one bedroom unit. This was the first time I allowed myself to really think about being solo.
The last time I was a single woman, I was a sophomore just getting to love music by Dave Matthews and Sarah McLachlan. I was interested in reading the classics. I stocked my closets with the rebellious fashions of the day. One constant was my obsession with Hello Kitty. Basically, I was still a kid finding her way in life; I wasn’t a woman at all.
Thinking about being single was both scary and a relief. My anger fueled this thought process. I had a right to be angry right? Was I in the wrong? No. I finally saw my situation in a new light. The sadness in me was turning into rage. The blues were turning red. Maybe Rachel was rubbing off on me. Maybe Chief Culver and Bag It Thomas rattled my feminine wiles. Whatever they did, something was definitely awakened in me.
Chapter 4
My Fairy Spa Mother
I pulled up to my condo and there was a bright orange taxi blocking the path to my door. Mysterious spy music played in my head, as usual. I parked and peered into my rearview mirror. I couldn’t see the passenger and my heart fluttered, putting me on guard. I opened my car door slowly. For a moment, I imagined that Thomas might have followed me home with my bag of chips and drink. That seemed so illogical the thought fizzled in my cup before I could take a sip.
A woman. She had wild pixie hair and large dark sunglasses. I walked behind the car, keeping my most intense stare on the passenger. I reached my door and fumbled with my keys. My nerves were pretty rattled for a laidback Sunday, first from Thomas almost making me as an evaluator and next by Bradley’s text. The old me pleaded that I text him back, but this new fiery me screamed, Screw that, let him wait!
I opened my door finally, when a familiar voice called to me from the taxi.
“Hafa adai, sexy biatch!” I recognized my best friend’s voice at once, greeting me in our language. Was I dreaming? I looked into the taxi. It would be like Rachel to hold the taxi guy there until I showed.
“Rachel? What the hell? What are you doing here?! And, what happened to your long hair?” I raced to the other side of the taxi as she made a dramatic exit. I half expected to see flames shoot out or doves racing for the sky from behind her. The driver made a sour face and started his car. She threw the poor man a hundred dollar bill and told him to keep the change. The airport was only ten minutes north, so I knew her tip was rather indulgent. It must have been Rachel’s way of apologizing for the fact that this poor guy had to witness estrogen-drama at all.
Rachel wrapped me tight in her arms, “I missed you. My hair is just hair, it’ll grow back. I was bored.” With sweetness in her eyes, Rachel held me at arms length. She cranked back her little fist, then punched me swiftly on my arm. Ouch. “What the hell, Nix!? I thought you electrocuted yourself in your tub or jumped off Coronado Bridge. I almost came two weeks ago if it wasn’t for updates from your dad! When you didn’t answer your phone or respond to my emails the other day, that’s when I freaked out and hopped on a plane, make that three planes, to get here.” I gave Rachel strict instructions to keep my separation private.
“Sorry.” I rubbed my arm and smiled at my best friend.
Rachel looked ragged from the long flight over, but still beautiful. Her new pixie hair was stunning. How could she possibly get more gorgeous? She gave me a once over and did it again for good measure, holding my hands the whole time. Rachel walked around me. She smacked my butt playfully.
“Are you that depressed? You look hotter than y
our wedding day! And your ass, it’s so, so firm!”
“We haven’t been in each other’s presence for three minutes and you’re already touching my dagan.” I teased.
“I missed you! How long has Bradley been gone? I bet he hasn’t seen you this hot. He’s going to bust a nut!” I’m sure she meant to compliment me, but bringing up Bradley let alone my wedding day, was not the right thing to do. I started crying, wailing actually. Okay, banshee shrieking if you must know. Rachel walked me to the door like I was a lost puppy. She plopped me on my couch and ran outside to get our stuff.
I composed myself quickly, I didn’t need to drag my bestie into my pit of sadness. Rachel held the box of dye with a questioning look. When I told her of the dual purpose of the drastic change—one to make going back to Bag It easier and two because Bradley liked blondes apparently, Rachel agreed to help. She did not agree with the reasons, but came up with a new one, a better one. She wanted me to have a fresh start.
In college, Rachel went blonde and wanted me to try it too. She wanted to run a social experiment for her psychology paper, “Guam Blondes and the Affect on Chamorro Men.” I had avoided her for a week. I hoped she just didn’t want payback for forcing her to choose another research paper topic.
Rachel searched local spas that were by chance open on a Sunday and by a miracle accepting appointments. I cooked up a hot batch of kimchee fried rice, knowing Rachel loved my mom’s recipes. I had the Rock Lobster sandwich sitting on the counter. It called to me. My mind wandered deeper into my morning encounter with Thomas. I marveled at the thought that what sat in that very bag was created by his lovely hands. Once I completed Rachel’s lunch, my curiosity and my awakening appetite got the better of me.
As Rachel sat in front of the steaming bowl of spicy carbs, she inhaled the vapor like it was an elixir for jetlag. I told her to save the spa day for when she was feeling normal, but Rachel is an I’ll sleep when I die person. This was why my best friend was so successful.
Secret Shopper Page 4