She slipped the red dress over her head. It felt a little loose, but nothing that her miracle seamstress couldn’t fix. The ruby skirt was draped over a couple layers of tulle, so it had just the right amount of poof needed for the fifties look.
When she glanced in the mirror, she knew this was her dress. She could already picture the heels she had to go with it. She’d definitely need to purchase a water bra so she could have Marilyn cleavage for a low-cut chest.
Ethan was waiting outside with four garments slung over his left arm. “That’s your dress, Cate,” he said, as she pulled back the curtain.
Six dollars later, she had her bridesmaid’s gown for Beth’s wedding. Ethan also purchased an old, beat up suede jacket for eight dollars.
“I’ll wear it sometime,” he said.
On the way home from PB Thrift, they stopped at Chip’s Liquor and bought a bottle of Tanqueray, a liter of tonic water, a bag of tortilla chips, and a jar of salsa.
When they returned to Cate’s apartment, she checked her messages.
“Hi. It’s me. Ummm . . . listen, I hate to do this, but Beth and I can’t make it tonight. We’re too busy getting ready for tomorrow. Anyway, have fun with Ethan and we’ll see you tomorrow!”
Tomorrow was Beth’s shower/beading party. She wasn’t having a traditional shower. Instead, she had invited only her bridesmaids over for lunch, and they were going to make jewelry to go with their costumes.
“They’re not coming?” Ethan asked as he mixed them each a gin and tonic.
“I guess not.” She opened the chips and salsa. “I’m kind of hungry. I don’t think this is going to be enough for dinner.”
“I can whip something up for us,” he said.
“Good luck finding anything in this house.”
He handed her a cocktail. “Lemme have a look around. I’m sure I can find something.”
“I’m telling you, the only thing I have is some salad stuff and wheat thins.”
He rummaged through her fridge and cabinets while she sipped on her drink. “Why don’t we order a pizza, and I’ll make us a salad?” he said.
“Okay.” She reached for the yellow pages. She ordered a cheese pizza while he pulled things like sugar and olive oil from her pantry. “We need some tunes,” he said as he set a salad bowl and mixing cup on the counter.
“That’s a good idea.” Cate put on the King Mother CD she had purchased at the last show, then returned to the kitchen.
She sat on the countertop while he made a salad dressing from scratch. He mixed olive oil, vinegar, sugar, lime juice, salt, garlic, and a multitude of other spices he had managed to find in her cupboard. He chopped a head of lettuce and a bell pepper the same way someone on the Food Network would, rapidly creating neat little rows of precisely cubed vegetables.
She mixed more cocktails. “Oh hey! I forgot to tell you! I’m running an ad in The Reader as a freelance photographer. I’m offering to do brochures and candid photos for parties and stuff. Can I use you as reference?”
“Of course you can! That’s awesome.”
She handed him a cocktail. “Good God, girl!” he said after he took the first sip. “You make a strong drink.”
She offered to water it down, but he wouldn’t let her. They talked about work and school and Beth’s wedding.
Grease played with his new favorite toy: the royal-blue satin belt that he had previously attempted to demolish. Cate had given it to him the day after Leslie’s wedding. He had a routine of pouncing on it, dragging it across the floor from his mouth as if it were a fresh kill, then chewing on it. She continued to munch on chips and salsa until the pizza came.
They sat on pillows next to the coffee table. Cate ate more salad than pizza. The dressing was the best that she had ever tasted in her life. She made Ethan write down the ingredients, but knew that when she attempted to make the dressing, it would never taste as good.
She had a good time drinking gin and tonics and eating salad on her floor.
“So, have you talked to Paul?” he asked.
“At Leslie’s wedding.” She took a sip of her drink and was starting to feel the effects. She couldn’t even taste the gin anymore. “He actually tried to get me to go to his hotel room with him. Can you believe that?”
“Yeah, I can. I knew he’d be back. I just didn’t know when.”
“Well, he can dream on if he thinks there is ever going to be another chance with me.”
He laughed. “Good girl. That guy was an idiot.”
“Ethan?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened with your ex-girlfriend?” The alcohol had made her feel bold. She was curious.
He looked at the floor. “Oh c’mon now. You don’t want to hear that story.”
“Yeah, I do.”
He took a long swig of his drink, practically draining the contents of his glass. After he swallowed, he looked at Cate. “We were together for three years, and she cheated on me with a friend of mine. She was the only girl I’d ever been with.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this up.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s okay. I don’t care anymore. I really don’t.”
“What a bitch.” Cate said as she set her empty glass on the table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that. I don’t even know her. But what a bitch.”
He shrugged. “Well, I was angry for a while, but now I know that things work out the way they’re supposed to. I mean . . . think if I had married her. I would’ve married a bitch. I really felt like they both screwed me over. But they didn’t. I was the lucky one.”
He picked up her empty glass and went to the kitchen. He began to mix them another round of drinks. “Hey, I want to see those pictures of the bamboo forest that you took.”
“Oh yeah. They turned out really good.” She went to her room to look for the photos.
When she returned, he was sitting on the couch with two full drinks. Grease was perched on his knee, taking advantage of the opportunity for attention. She sat down next to him, and the cat trotted off.
His slender fingers flipped through each photo. He had good strong hands, with veins running from his sinewy fingers to his elbows. His eyes crinkled around the corners when he saw something he liked.
He always seemed so at ease with himself, so confident. His shoulders were always straight yet relaxed. His motions and mannerisms were always natural. He never tried too hard to impress anyone. He never tried to be anything but Ethan. He was cute.
He looked up, about to comment on one of the photos, but smiled instead. “What?”
She hadn’t realized she’d been staring at him. “I don’t want to go to King Mother.” It was the liquor talking, and she could hear a little voice of reason telling her to get off the couch, go put her shoes on, and call a cab to take them to The Casbah. Go to the damn Casbah! You won’t think he’s cute tomorrow. You’ll only end up hurting him.
“Okay.” He set the pictures on the coffee table. Then he looked at her. His hands were pulling her closer. Her stomach felt warm. She had forgotten what it had felt like to feel waves of butterflies flocking through her middle, the nervous excitement of a first kiss, the shy yet excited feeling of becoming intimate. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he was a good kisser, but it did.
A thought flashed into her mind. Beth and Jill—they had done it on purpose.
27 • Piecing It Together
There were arms around her, strong and heavy against her waist. She could feel his breath on the nape of her neck and her buttocks tucked above his thighs. She was spooning with someone. She knew this even before she opened her eyes. Then she remembered. Ethan. They had been drunk. He had seen her naked. She had seen him naked. Oh holy shit! This is why people shouldn’t drink. They were friends. He wasn’t supposed to fondle her boobs. She lay there frozen for a moment. Then she turned over and pulled out of his embrace.
He released a half-asleep groan and rubbed his hand over her shoulder.
She needed a glass of water. As she sat up, she gave herself credit for at least having the sense to wear underwear to bed. She grabbed the first thing she saw from the floor and pulled it over her head. It was a T-shirt—his T-shirt.
She tried to recall exactly what had happened the night before as she pressed her thumb against the Sparkletts water tap. She had hooked up with Ethan. She had wanted it. No, she didn’t. They were friends. She knew him when he was scrawny and running around playing “November Rain” on his brother’s acoustic guitar. He washed his hair with bar soap! She was going to hurt him. She didn’t want to go back into the bedroom. She couldn’t look at him. But she was looking at him.
He entered the kitchen, bed-head and all, in his jeans.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling. He seemed short.
“Hi.” It came out sounding abrupt. “How are you?”
“Good.” He nodded. “How are you?”
“Good.” She backed into a far corner of the kitchen.
“Mind if I have a glass of water?” he asked.
“Oh no. Not at all. Help yourself. Go ahead.”
He turned on the water tap.
Then she remembered Beth’s. “I have to go to Beth’s beading party today,” she said, quickly scurrying past him.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She stood in the living room.
“I have to cater a bar mitzvah.” He took a gulp of his water. “In fact, I should probably get going.” He took a few chugs of water before he returned to the bedroom.
Cate sat down on the living room couch.
He returned to the living room wearing only his jeans and shoes. “I thought you had to go,” Cate said, looking at his bare chest.
“I do.” He lifted his hand in her direction. “You’re wearing my shirt.”
Her eyes darted toward her chest. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine. You can keep wearing it. Really, it’s fine. I don’t mind going home like this.”
She walked into the bedroom, closed the door behind her, and quickly switched shirts. Thinking of the good-bye process sent a surge of terror to her nerves. Should she hug him? What if he tried to kiss her?
When she returned to the living room, she handed him the T-shirt.
“I’ll call you later,” he said as they walked to the front door.
“Okay.” She opened her arms and gave him a stiff, awkward hug. She felt a friendly, dry peck on her cheek and pulled away.
“Have a safe drive,” she said. Have a safe drive? She was such an idiot. He lived two blocks away.
Cate was one of the first guests to arrive at the beading party at Beth’s parents’ house in La Jolla. Beth’s mother answered the door wearing khaki pants, navy blue loafers, and a white blouse with a navy blue sweater tied over her shoulders. She had often hosted fund-raisers for local politicians. She reminded Cate of Elizabeth Dole. For years Cate had wondered how she could’ve produced Beth.
“Hello, Cate.” Her coiffure was its usual crisp short cut, blow-dried just like Laura Bush’s hair. “What can I get you to drink? We have lemonade, coffee, ginger ale—”
“She wants a Bloody Mary, Mom,” Beth said as she entered the room.
“Would you like a Bloody Mary, Cate?” Mrs. Fitzpatrick asked.
“Um . . . er . . .”
“Yes. She does.” Beth answered for her.
Cate had brought her a gift, even though it wasn’t really a shower. It was a chip and dip platter she had registered for.
Beth gave her a big hug before she took the gift from Cate’s hands. “Did you have fun last night?” she asked.
“You did that on purpose,” Cate said.
Beth made a weak attempt at looking completely baffled. “What? Did what on purpose?”
“Flaked.”
“Well, so what if we wanted you to be alone with him. Anyway, what happened?” She seemed more interested in Cate’s story than the gift.
Cate’s voice was nearly inaudible when she spoke. “Ethan slept over last night.”
“Yes!” She clapped her hands together. “What happened? Did you have sex with him?”
“No!”
“All right. Well, tell me what happened.”
“We ended up getting really drunk.” She was whispering again. “I wanted to kiss him. I just . . . I don’t know . . . he was sitting there, and it just seemed right.”
“Oh! Finally!”
“Don’t get too excited. I woke up this morning and regretted it. I was drunk.”
“You like him. Your true feelings come out when you’ve been drinking.”
“I’ll just end up hurting him.”
“Give him a chance. He’s so great. I’m inviting him to the wedding.”
“No!”
“Yes. He’s an old friend. He’s my friend, and I can invite whoever I want.”
“Do not invite him. I am serious.”
“I’m inviting Ethan.” She sang the words. “I can’t wait to tell Jill!”
Beth’s mother returned with a Bloody Mary, complete with a celery stick. She was such the little Martha Stewart.
Two sips of the cocktail, and Cate’s hangover was gone. It was amazing how that worked. She visited with Anthony and Beth’s sister, Sharon, who took more after their mother. She was picking out some beads to make her necklace with when she felt a blast of hot air on her neck.
“I want details!” Jill whispered gruffly in her ear. “This is so great!”
“Beth told you already?”
“So, what happened?”
“We just kissed and fooled around.”
“Did you see him naked?”
“Yes. I saw him naked.”
“Did he have a big—”
“Jill. Please.” He was nicely packaged, but Cate didn’t feel like sharing that with her. “Seriously, Jill. I just don’t see him that way. I don’t know what to do now, because I am going to hurt him, and he is the last person that deserves it.”
She was saved from discussing Ethan any further when Beth’s mother called them to lunch. They sat down for a meal of homemade quiche and Chinese chicken salad. But for some reason, she could barely touch the food. She could still feel butterflies in her stomach and reasoned that it was because it had been such a long time since she had snuggled in the nude with someone other than Paul.
After lunch, Cate picked out clear, sparkling schwartzky crystals for her jewelry. The crystals gleamed and sent off beautiful rays when they were under light. They resembled diamonds, exactly what Cate wanted for her Marilyn look. She decided to make a complete set of earrings with a matching necklace and bracelet. While putting her jewelry together, she thought of her dilemma with Ethan. She wondered if God played cruel jokes on her. It was always the jerks that she liked, and then, here came Ethan—sweet, kind, sincere Ethan—and she was going to hurt him.
It didn’t make sense. Finally, there was someone who really cared about her, who noticed her freaking freckle for crying out loud, who remembered things she said, who listened to her. Who appreciated her. She couldn’t describe the weird feeling that crept up on her every time she thought of being his girlfriend. It wasn’t that he was unattractive or annoying. He was great. There was just something strange about the notion of dating him.
How was she going to smooth things over with him? Then a horrible memory came to her. He had said, “It is so nice to hold you. You make me so happy, Cate.” Then they had fallen asleep.
She was a bitch. A true bitch.
Beth interrupted her thoughts. “That looks good, Cate,” she said as she looked at the necklace Cate was clasping.
“Thanks.”
Cate looked at some of the things the other girls had made. She always thought she was creative until she looked at Jill’s and Beth’s jewelry. Their stuff turned out sophisticated yet edgy. They had such an artistic streak when it came to beading and decorating.
Jill was going as the bride of Frankenstein and had made a stu
nning, four-inch-wide choker using bone and black seed beads. The designs she had used with the seed beads were intricate and ancient. Beth had made herself matching bracelets for each wrist using opaque crystals.
Cate collected her jewelry and put it in a little Ziploc bag. Then she thanked Beth and Mrs. Fitzpatrick for the party.
Beth walked her to the car. “Now, go home and call Ethan,” she said.
“I can’t. And you and Jill are going to help me figure out a way to get myself out of this.”
“Sorry, babe. You’re on your own for that one.” She closed Cate’s car door for her.
When Cate returned home, she had one new message. “Hey, Cate. It’s Ethan. I hope you had a good time making jewelry with Beth and Jill. I was just calling to say hi and . . . to tell you that I had a great time last night. I had a lot of fun, and I’d like to see you again soon. So gimme a call when you get a chance.”
She hated herself. But she couldn’t call him back. At least not now.
28 • Get Real
Cate and Jill were watching Dr. Phil. He was letting some married guy have it for flirting with coworkers. Cate was still in her clothes from school. Her bare feet rested on the coffee table, and she ate Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream straight from the carton. Jill’s hair was wrapped in Saran Wrap, undergoing a black transformation for Halloween.
“I wonder what Dr. Phil would say if he got a hold of me,” Cate said. “How much do you think it costs for an hour of his time?” She imagined him in his suit, bald head glistening, veins bulging from his neck as he yelled at her in his Southern drawl: “When are you going to wake up, girl? You have a perfectly decent man pursuing you, and you’re passing him up! What in the hell is the matter with you? It’s time for you to get real.”
“You don’t need Dr. Phil. You need Dr. Jill!” Jill sat up. “Just tell me anything, Cate. I’ll be real with you.”
“Tell me what to do about Ethan.”
“You have to call him back,” Jill said.
“I did call him back. I left a message.”
“No. You called him when you knew he would be at work. That is not acceptable. Then you screened your phone calls when he called you back. That doesn’t count.”
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