by M R Field
“Maybe some other time,” I try. While she busies herself tidying her sketchbooks on the design table, she shrugs, and for a moment is quiet until she takes a big breath.
The moment is broken by the sound of her front door opening and a small group of excited women strolling in.
“Ladies,” Trin’s voice is hushed. “This is my noon appointment. I’ve only chatted to her on the phone …” She holds a gritted smile at them, pretending not to talk about the woman as the group gets closer, “and she drives me fucking crazy. She asked if the time of day mattered to catch the gleam off her potential dress. Please don’t leave me. I’m not strong enough to not chuck an object at her head.”
“Err, hello?” the woman leading the group calls. “Is anyone there?”
“As if we are hidden,” she hisses. “The curtain isn’t even draped across. Attention-seeking whor—”
“Over here!” I wave, blocking out Trin’s snide comments. I turn back to her and widen my eyes at her to calm down. She rolls her eyes and snatches the pad off the table.
“You’ll see,” she whisper-yells as she passes us.
Pushing her shoulders back, she struts out to the main room, and we follow after her. By now, the women are standing on the other end of the desk, looking around the warehouse. Trinity doesn’t present her clothing lines like regular stores. Sure, she has racks, but her mannequins are what get the crowds to linger. On one side of the warehouse floor, closer to the door, she has her bridal displays. She then moves into her formal, then on the other side are her projects. Standing back here, bursts of colour are seen from all sides, but what makes the far side unique are her themes. Today, her mannequins are dressed in red and black steam-punk gypsy dresses with jagged cuts of fabric. Each piece looks anguished, from the frayed lace, to the misshapen taffeta. They are amazing.
Trin notices the girls focusing on that section and can’t help to break their stares.
“That’s my latest exhibition for my themes.”
“Oh?” the blonde at the front asks, her nose turning upwards slightly in disdain.
“Yeah. The theme is Love is Bullshit.” The blonde jerks her head back slightly as Trin leans in. “Don’t worry, we won’t go over to that section … unless you come back a year after the wedding, of course.” She winks, and holds out her hand. “I’m Trinity. You must be the blushing bride.”
“Yes, I’m Virginia. These are my bridesmaids, Leah, Sky and Eloise. I have the designs for mine as well as their dresses in here.” She holds up a thin purple folder, but doesn’t hand it over. “You came highly recommended to me. I hope you know what you’re doing?”
Trin stiffens slightly before she holds her hand out for the folder. Virginia reluctantly passes the papers to her and Trin grabs it, making sure to hold her gaze. “You have nothing to be concerned about. I can make Shrek look amazing. You will be fine.”
She turns the folder towards her and opens it quickly, scanning the images. I look over to the bridesmaids, who look longingly over at the displays. I glance down towards the images, and I make an effort to school my features as I stare at the most hideous bridesmaid dresses I’ve ever seen. Are they just glammed up hessian sacks?
I clear my throat and Trice looks over to me. I eye the images discreetly while Virginia is distracted by Trin’s perusal. Trice gently moves to the side towards the bridal dresses and begins chatting to her. Trin, however, cannot hide her shock, going as far as saying “yuck” under her breath. I hear a snigger and look up to see the other girls smiling at us.
“Feel free to look at the dresses here; there’s some amazing stuff.” I point over to the rack.
They grin back at us, and Sky gestures with her chin behind me. “Wow! That’s amazing. What is it?”
I turn and look back at our corset. “It’s our costume for our act. We perform cabaret acts at the Emerald Vixen. There’s live music too. Have you heard of it?”
Skye’s eyes widen and she nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, my brother told me about that place. He’s been a few times. He said it was really cool.”
Trice and I both smile at her, a giddy feeling warming my belly. “Well, we’re performing tomorrow night and Saturday. You should come,” I say.
Her face slackens. “I can’t this weekend.” She frowns. “But definitely another time.” They turn and walk over to the dresses all the while I can hear Trinity’s voice slowly rise.
“You cannot be serious!” she snaps, pointing to the image in front of her. “This isn’t even an idea! It’s an insult. You can’t dress your girls like that. It’s fucking hideous.”
Virginia flinches and stares at her with her mouth gaping open. “But it’s my day! If I’m paying you I’ll dress them how the hell I like.”
Trin shifts until she is facing her and hands back the folder. “I refuse to make something as shit as that. I will happily suggest some other designs that are not putrid.”
“Well, what makes you think you’re so wonderful at this?” the bridezilla taunts.
Trin licks her lips and plants one hand on her hip, staring back at her. “You were recommended to me by Paul, correct?”
Virginia nods.
“Wasn’t his fiancée gorgeous on the red carpet outside of the casino on live TV?”
She nods, staring back at Trin.
“Well …” Trin leans forward, “I only make masterpieces. If you want someone who will make your unflattering designs, go elsewhere. But I will never make something that will make the person not feel like the goddess they deserve to be.”
They square off at each other.
“What makes you think I’ll choose one of these designs?” she sneers, waving her hand to the racks. “They just look like ordinary dresses.”
Trin puffs out her chest and taps her foot.
“Uh-uh, honey.” Trin’s teeth bare as she tries to hold back her temper. “I’m the one who will choose if I work with you, not the other way around. You’ve already shown me we can’t work together, how will you explain that to your friend Paul?”
Virginia’s face blanches as she holds her bag to her chest. With a huff, Trin storms over to the rack and begins sifting through the dresses. She stops and plucks three large gowns and lays them over her arm, and turns and glares back at the bride.
“You!” she points to Virginia then to the back of her warehouse. “Get your arse back there into the change rooms. I will show you that these gowns are far from ordinary. Your dress design isn’t right for you.” Her tone softens slightly. “And to be honest, I think we can do better. These designs will give you that little extra oomph.”
She walks past us, declaring, “Besides, you don’t like them? You know the way out.”
Turning back, she makes eye contact with the stunned bridesmaids. “You lot.” Her chin lifts towards the centre racks. “Go check out the formal section.” She winks and calls out over her shoulder, “Bet it’s not every day a girl asks you to check out her rack, eh?”
“Fine. Show us what you have,” Virginia grumbles from within the change room.
I tap Trice on the arm and gesture to the front door. She nods and we head back into the back to get our bags. I reach into mine to check my phone and notice I have a message. Without thinking, I open it and automatically clutch my phone.
Hazel, getting that Neanderthal to respond is childish & gutless. If u won’t come 2 me, I will come 2 u. I’m sure he’s just jealous about my flowers. Unless he hasn’t told u. Happy whoring around with that idiot. Jerry.
Oh, those flowers. This morning was certainly interesting.
I sat at the kitchen table, sipped on a glass of juice and stared at Robbie. He was acting weird. Once we got home last night, he wouldn’t stop being close to me. I was used to our new relationship where we were pretty full on, but then something had seemed desperate in his touch. We’d gone to bed, and his hands hadn’t left my skin, not even for a moment. He’d tasted, conquered and devoured every inch of me, and all the while his
needy hands were unrepentant.
“You okay, love?” I’d asked. “Is something wrong?”
He’d flinched and moved closer to me. “No, Farfalla. I’m just a little stressed at work.”
The tone of his voice had seemed different—almost strained. I’d stared at him for a moment, waiting for something, anything, but he’d kissed my lips and pulled me closer to him.
I tapped my fingers across the wooden table top, watching him fidget by the lounge room door. His shoulders were tense and his eyes cold as they moved to the front door and back, and when I was about to ask him if he was okay, he turned abruptly and stared at me.
“I’m going to hit the gym,” he said, turning sharply and strode away. Weird.
“Right, I’ll just go check the mailbox then,” I called out. Maybe the stress of the club was more than what he was letting on.
I stepped out, and skipped down the small steps and walked briskly to the box, bending forward to open the metal door. The box contained no mail, but only a few petals. I brushed my fingers across them and swept them out, when one flipped over and appeared to have something on it. I picked it up and recognised very familiar handwriting.
We are meant to be.
My jaw locked as I glanced down to the other petals. Sure, enough both also had messages on them. One the same as the other.
I love you, Hazel.
“Ugh,” I scoffed. “What a waste of a perfectly good petal.” I bent down again and looked into the mailbox to double check and then looked around me. There by the fence line, another petal lay, and I flicked it over and cringed when another love message assaulted my eyeballs. I stood up quickly and brushed off my jeans and looked around to see if there were any more. Looking out into the street, I scanned the parked cars and find none that seemed out of place.
Jerry. I wanted to high five him in the face with a phone book. I guessed one of my sisters told the jerk-off where I lived. Cows.
I turned back and head inside, the unmistakable sounds of The Prodigy vibrating through the walls. Yep. Robbie’s definitely got something on his mind. I straightened my shoulders and reached for the handle, and braced myself to show Robbie the petals. In his volatile mood, this was probably not the best time, but I didn’t want to lie to him either. I opened the door as he was pushing back on the pec deck, his were eyes closed. His face reddened as the weights lifted behind him, and he grunted once they released.
I walked over to the iPod dock and turned the music down gradually, and turned back to find his eyes focused on me. My gaze travelled instantly towards the bench and my face reddened as I remember the last time we were in here. I flicked my eyes back to him as he sat with his arms draped across the back of the pads, watching me. I held up my closed fist and pray that he won’t charge out of here in search of Jerry.
“I found something outside, but before I show it to you, I want you to promise me that you’ll be calm.”
His jaw tightened as his eyes travelled to my hands. My palm was outstretched in front of him showing the petal.
“It’s a petal that has—”
“Fuck!” he growled. “I thought I got rid of them all.”
I froze in shock and stared back at him. “Huh?”
His head dropped forward as he stared down at his feet. “I saw them last night, while the boys were here. I thought we cleared them all out, but I must’ve missed that one.”
“I found a few in the letterbox.” I scrunched the petal in my hand and stepped closer to him, and then I lifted his chin with my finger. “Is that why you’re acting funny?”
“Farfalla, he was here. At our place.”
“He just sprinkled these petals though,” I pointed out.
His eyes hardened as he stared back at me. “He’s unhinged. Why isn’t he taking the hint?”
“We already know he can’t take rejection; this is just proving that he’s an idiot.”
“How blunt do you have to be? He just keeps thinking you’ll go back to him.”
I held Robbie’s face in my palm and felt his heavy breaths against my skin. “This isn’t anything to worry about, love. That will never happen. Never.”
“I don’t trust him,” Robbie grumbled. His hand reaches out, holding mine against his
face. “I trust you babe, but he is verging on psychotic. I can’t go through my day and focus, while I wonder when he’ll fuckin’ reappear.”
“I’ll send him a message to leave me alone. Maybe that might work,” I tried.
“You need to call the cops. I don’t have a good feeling about him. I don’t like these gestures. They unnerve me.”
“And say what? He’s sending me petals with love notes and texts with a couple of images and messages? They have bigger things to worry about. He’ll back off eventually.”
I unfolded my other hand and gestured to the petal with my chin. “If he thinks this is romance, no wonder we failed. I’ll send him a message later, and tell him to lose my number.”
“I still think the cops should know. Can’t stand the thought of that prick coming between us.”
“He can’t get in here.” I tapped my chest. “Every day is a fairy tale with you, just a steamy-rated version, where there’s hot sex.”
“Speaking of hot sex …” He waggled his eyebrows, “that bench over there looks lonely,”
“Robbie, you wore me out last night. I’m going to get an injury if I’m not careful.”
He stood up, surprising me by lifting me in the air. “No worry, Farfalla. I’ll do all the work.”
“Just don’t mess up my hair. I’m heading to Trin’s later for a fitting.”
“She will never know.”
She knew. My heat-flushed cheeks were a beacon to our festivities.
I grit my teeth and feel Trice standing beside me. Wordlessly, I hold my phone out to her and hear her gasp.
“What the fuck? What an arsehole.”
Bringing the phone back, I quickly type
I’m not a whore … I just got over you. I saw you for what you are. Lose my number.
And hit send. I then forward his message and my reply to Robbie.
I show Trice and she laughs.
My phone lights up in my hand and I see Robbie’s message.
What a fuckwit. Great response, babe. He’s too stupid to realise you’ve upgraded. Maybe I should send him some flowers with “you’re a fuckwit” on the petals. Btw my desk is lonely. Come back and help keep it company.
I smile and quickly type back.
Don’t waste your cash or your time. So, just your desk misses me? What a shame. I can’t atm as I’m going to a cafe with Trice. I’ll swing by after. Can’t wait for our road trip!
Me either. My mamma is gonna flip when she sees you. Love you.
My chest warms at the thought. Feli’s hugs were always the best.
Love you too.
“C’mon,” Trice says, walking through the curtain out into the warehouse. “Tell my brother to stop sexting you. We have two performances to get through and then we can have a few days break. In the meantime, who’s grabbing a coffee?”
I scrunch my nose at the suggestion. “Not coffee, but I’ll get a hot chocolate or something. I’ve gone off coffee. I think the UK ruined me. It tastes funny now.”
Trice chuckles and we both wave over to Trin who has since moved in the centre of the gowns and is showing her client a few dresses. The others stand nearby and as we walk past them, the quiet one, Eloise, looks up at me and for a moment, I can’t help feeling as if she looks familiar.
“Life is better with you.”
Michael Franti and Spearhead
ROBBIE
I slam the boot closed and pull the handle of the suitcase up. Gazing up, I feel instantly relaxed, despite the six-hour drive, as our childhood home faces us. I shake out my stiff limbs and roll my neck to loosen the muscles. I feel the gentle fingers of Hazel rubbing my shoulders and our eyes meet, a gentle smile lining her beautiful face. Her green ey
es excitedly look back at me and my cock twitches. Good to see that isn’t affected by the drive.
Hazel’s head tilts up and she smiles widely up towards the open door through the garage, and I follow her gaze to find my mamma standing on the step, waving at us frantically. Cue—no more dirty thoughts. Trice waves back while Alex drapes his arm over her shoulder. They leave their luggage in the boot.
We wheel our luggage over to her, and the familiar smells of her home cooking assaults our nostrils. I can tell already that she has cooked meals that are our favourite. If you open her pantry, you’ll find Trice’s favourite chocolate biscuits and my favourite savoury ones. Every. Single. Time.
It is good to be home.
“Beatrice! Che magra che sei!” Mamma admonishes Trice over her weight, but I know Trice hasn’t lost any. It’s merely our mamma’s coping mechanism to show us that she is still needed.
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re here for a few days so you can feed me then.” Trice smiles and steps forward into Mamma’s embrace. They stand there for a moment until Mamma sees Alex, and she moves from Trice to grab him and drag him in for a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. She grips his forearms and gives him a squeeze before winking at Trice.
They head inside and I place my hand on Hazel’s lower back, guiding her closer to Mamma. Her eyes brighten as she ignores me and holds out her arms enthusiastically.
“Hazel! Bella! So wonderful to have you here!” Mamma clutches her tightly as Hazel wraps her arms around her. Two of the most important women in my life hugging makes me feel pretty fucking proud.