Widow, Virgin, Whore - A Novel

by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  "Not fired, exactly," she answered slowly. "More like letting me go. He said I've been gone so much that he had to hire someone more dependable and he can't keep us both on the payroll."

  "What's wrong with these employers?" Darla blurted out angrily. "Why do they think they can fire people just because they have AIDS? It's against the law!"

  Craig shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Susie. I know how much you loved your job. Is there anything I can do?"

  Susie shook her head. "Carl said he'd help me apply for disability. That's all I can do, I guess."

  "It's not fair!" Darla insisted. She stewed a moment, her eyes as dark as an impending thunderstorm. From across the room, Katherine recognized that look and knew that at any moment something outrageous was going to come out of her mouth. Darla didn't disappoint her.

  "Hey. Why don't we go picket the place? We'll make him hire you back."

  Craig chuckled. "Always the spitfire, eh Darla?"

  Susie frowned. "I don't want any trouble," she said quickly. "I'll miss going to work, but I don't want to go back there."

  Darla looked disappointed, but didn't press the issue.

  "Maybe you can find a job at another florist shop?" Katherine suggested. "At least a part-time one. You're allowed to earn some money while you're on disability."

  Susie shrugged. "Maybe."

  Silence hung in the room as heavy as the heat. Katherine had come on a whim, to escape the house and Denise's talk about wedding plans. She loved Denise dearly and was truly happy for her, but if she had to look at one more bridal magazine, she was going to go crazy. But now, sitting in the hot apartment, seeing how depressed Susie was, she wished she'd stayed home.

  After fingering the trivia cards some more, Susie spoke up again. "I saw my kids last night." Her eyes didn't shine as they usually did when she spoke of her children.

  Katherine brightened. Finally, something positive. "That must have been fun. How are they doing?"

  "They're okay. My mother-in-law brought them and they only stayed an hour." Susie sighed and shuffled the cards in her hands. "They acted like they hardly knew me. My daughter wouldn't even sit by me. It's like I'm not their mother anymore, I'm a stranger to them." Her voice cracked.

  So much for something positive. Katherine slid out of her chair and dropped beside Susie on the floor, hugging her close. "I'm sorry, Susie. You've had a rough week, haven't you?"

  Susie nodded as tears trailed down her cheeks. The air and attitude in the room was stifling.

  Darla looked at all the gloomy faces around her. She couldn't stand it another minute. "Hey, come on, you guys. We're not all dead yet." Her face broke into a mischievous grin. "You know what we need? A night out. Let's go dancing. I know a great place in Fremont with a band and air conditioning."

  Craig nodded his agreement. Carl simply shrugged. But Susie shook her head. "I don't feel like going out tonight."

  "Oh, come on, Susie. Remember the fun you had at the Elton dance? We'll have the same kind of fun and it'll take your mind off your troubles." Darla had already made up her mind, they were going out.

  Katherine rubbed Susie's back. "It might be fun. Let's go for a while, okay?"

  Susie agreed without enthusiasm and they all piled into Katherine's van and took off.

  The club was half full of people and the band was already playing when they arrived. They made their way through the crowd to a table near the dance floor and settled in. The band was playing an old Eagles tune and there were only a few dancers on the floor. Smoke hung thick in the darkened room and Katherine hoped it wouldn't irritate Susie's sensitive sinuses.

  "The band will get rocking later on," Darla told them. "They always start out slow. Hey, Jay's bartending tonight. I'll go get us a round of drinks." She sauntered her way to the bar, as comfortable as a possum up a tree. Darla was completely in her element.

  "Hey, Jay, how's it going?"

  A tall, thin man darted his small brown eyes up to Darla from the tap where he was drawing two beers. He raised his straight brows. "Darla, it's been a long time. Heard you've been sick."

  "Yeah, well, sickness comes and goes."

  He nodded to the waitress to take the tray of beers he'd been pouring and stepped closer to the bar, his eyes scanning Darla. "From what I hear, your kind of sickness doesn't go away."

  Darla's eyes narrowed. "People talk too much."

  Jay grunted. "No need to talk. It's all in the newspaper." He looked over her shoulder across the smoky room. "Who ya here with tonight?"

  "Just some friends of mine." She waved toward the table. "Hey, I need three Cokes and two diets."

  Jay stared at her a moment and didn't move. "You don't look so good, Darla. Don't you think you should go home?"

  Darla pursed her lips. "I'm just fine, Jay. Thanks for your concern," she said sarcastically. "Just send the drinks over, okay?"

  Jay pushed his pointy face closer to her and lowered his voice. "Listen, Darla, I don't want any trouble. Why don't you and your friends go somewhere else?"

  Darla pushed her face right back into his. "We're not here for trouble, we're here to dance. God, Jay! What's wrong with you? We used to be friends."

  "Used to be. Listen, I own half of this bar now and the last thing I need is a rumor spreading around town that people like you hang out here. It's bad for business."

  Darla clenched her fists. She wanted to slug him. "People like me?" she asked tightly.

  "Yeah, Darla, like you. Spreading AIDS all over town. There's a gay bar a couple of blocks from here. You and your friends can go there. They're probably use to people like you."

  It took everything Darla had not to explode into a tirade. Her eyes burned at him. "Just bring us our drinks, Jay, or I will start trouble." She spun on her heel and fumed all the way back to the table.

  Jay turned to the waitress. "Take them three Cokes and two diets—and use plastic cups."

  When Darla returned to the table, they all saw the anger in her eyes.

  "What's the matter, babes?" Craig asked, concerned. "What did he say?"

  "It seems he doesn't want to serve 'our kind' here. But I made it clear we're staying."

  Susie paled. "Oh, dear. I don't want any trouble. Let's go home."

  "No," Darla insisted. "We're staying. He's not going to ruin our night out."

  They all exchanged silent looks. The band began playing "Footloose".

  "Come on, Craig. Let's dance." Darla pulled Craig by the hand and led him out onto the dance floor. The waitress brought their drinks, hastily setting them down and taking the money from Katherine. It didn't go unnoticed by the group that the cups were plastic.

  Carl talked Susie into a slow dance and soon they were all taking turns on the floor. A nice looking blonde man asked Katherine to dance, and she accepted. Carl had brought his camera along, and while everyone was at the table resting, he set the timer and took a group picture. Soon, they forgot all about the trouble with the bartender and enjoyed the music and each other's company.

  The waitress never returned so Katherine went up to the bar to order more drinks. "We need another round of sodas at our table," she told the bartender. "Would you please have the waitress bring them?"

  He sneered at her. "She's busy right now."

  Katherine stared hard at him. "She can bring them when she's not busy. Two diets and three Cokes. And this time, use real glasses like everyone else has."

  "That's asking an awful lot, isn't it? It's bad enough you're all in here, but don't expect service with a smile."

  Katherine stepped closer to the bar, her eyes narrowed. "Do you know who I am?"

  "I recognize your picture from that column in the paper."

  "Then you know I write about AIDS, about people with AIDS, and the events in their lives."

  "Yeah. So."

  "So, do you want to be the next topic in my column? 'Bar discriminates against patrons with AIDS'. Good for business, huh?"

  Jay narrowed his eyes but
didn't say another word. Katherine straightened, a satisfied smile on her face. "Please have the waitress bring our drinks—in glass." She turned and walked back to the table.

  Jay glared at her back as he motioned for the waitress. "Bring them their drinks, in glasses. But throw away the glasses afterward, understand?" She nodded and did what she was told.

  When Darla and Craig came back to the table, puffing and flushed from their turn on the dance floor, they noticed the fresh drinks in glass instead of plastic cups and a self-satisfied expression on Katherine's face.

  "What's up with the glasses?" Darla asked, lifting one. "I thought they were afraid of our germs."

  Katherine smiled smugly. "I asked the bartender if he'd like to appear in my column. He wasn't too hot on that kind of advertising."

  "Way to go!" Darla cheered, lifting her glass to toast Katherine. From across the room, she caught Jay's eye and lifted the glass higher towards him. He glared and turned away as everyone at the table exploded in laughter.

  Susie began to tire and Darla admitted she'd had enough, too, so the entire crew headed back to Susie's apartment in Katherine's van. Craig and Carl soon left and the women stayed with Susie to help her get settled in for the night.

  "Thanks for insisting I go," Susie told Darla. "I had fun."

  On the drive home, Darla seemed restless.

  "Are you tired?" Katherine asked.

  "Yeah. Guess I wear out easily now." Silence filled the van for a long time except for the soft sounds floating from the radio. Finally, Darla asked, "Why do you think Susie's so down all the time?"

  Katherine was thoughtful a moment before answering. "A lot has happened to her this past couple of weeks. She's been sick, she lost a job that she loved, and her kids hardly seem to know her anymore. She has a right to be depressed."

  "We're all going through the same thing," Darla insisted. "But we're not whining."

  Katherine gave her a sideways glance. "You're not now but you seem to have forgotten how you acted a couple of months ago." Darla rolled her eyes as Katherine continued, "Besides, you have Craig now, and you still have Chelsea with you, and the rest of us, too. Susie has no one. Not even her kids."

  Darla contemplated this. "But she has the group. We're there for her."

  "That's not the same as family. And before, she had her job to keep her busy. Now all she has is time to do nothing but think about everything that's gone wrong."

  Darla grew silent the rest of the trip home. Katherine couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were rolling around in that head of hers.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Katherine and Denise were paging through bridal magazines at the kitchen table over coffee and muffins when Darla came downstairs, a jacket slung over her shoulder.

  "Where are you off to?" Katherine asked as she watched her dig through the drawer by the door where the car keys were kept.

  "I'm going into town for a while."

  "Into Seattle?"

  "Yup."

  Both women at the table exchanged nervous glances.

  "Should you be driving?" Katherine asked. "You're on a lot of medication."

  "Stop fussing over me, will you? Now, where are those keys?" Darla dug intensely through the drawer, throwing stuff onto the counter. Frustrated, she slammed the drawer shut. "Damn. I can't find my keys!"

  "Why don't you let me drive you?" Katherine suggested. "I'm not busy today anyway."

  Darla pursed her lips and studied Katherine a moment. "Okay. But you can't say anything about where we're going."

  Katherine raised her brows. "Where are we going?"

  "Never mind. I'll tell you in the van." Darla threw the words over her shoulder as she headed out the door.

  "I think I'll go with you," Denise told Katherine, seemingly undisturbed by Darla's strange behavior. "Maybe we can stop by a florist shop and get ideas for the wedding."

  Katherine bit her lip. She was afraid that was exactly where they were headed.

  After telling the kids they'd be gone a while, Katherine slid behind the wheel and started the van. "So, where are we headed?"

  "Pike Place Market."

  "Darla..." Katherine said in a long, drawn out warning tone.

  "Not a word, remember?" Darla shot back.

  Sitting in the back seat, Denise seemed totally unaware of the situation. "Oh, good. I can look at a few shops there," she exclaimed absently over the magazine she was buried in.

  The drive there was a silent one. Darla sat tight-lipped while Denise was engrossed in her magazine. Katherine glanced at Darla from time to time, trying to figure out what she was up to. But Darla wouldn't even look her way.

  After parking, the three women strolled up through the marketplace, glancing at the various shops and vendors along the strip. It was early Saturday morning, and already the activity of the country's oldest Farmer's Market was in full swing. A hefty salmon flew over their heads as they passed through the fish market. Barkers called out to them as if at a carnival to sample their wares. A bearded man strummed folk tunes on the sidewalk with his beret on the pavement in front of him, beckoning payment. But Darla seemed unaware of the activity surrounding her as she scanned the shops. At last her gaze settled upon the one she was looking for as Denise stopped at a vendor's table to inspect bolts of lace.

  "The Blue Iris," Darla said aloud, reading the sign above the narrow glass door. "I'll be right back," she announced to Katherine, and turned to hurry across the cobblestones toward the florist shop.

  With quick steps Katherine caught up to her among buckets of cut marigolds, chrysanthemums, and roses that sat outside the shop. She grabbed a handful of Darla's sweater and spun her around.

  "Let go of me," Darla insisted.

  "What do you think you're doing?" Katherine demanded. "You have no business going in there."

  Darla pulled out of her grasp. "I'm just going to have a quiet talk with the owner."

  "This won't get Susie her job back, Darla. You'll only make things worse."

  Darla stepped back, pretending to be insulted, resting her open hand upon her chest. "I'm not going to cause any trouble," she said innocently. "I just want to talk to him." She turned and walked through the door without a glance back, leaving Katherine to shake her head and sigh.

  "Oh, aren't these pink mums beautiful?" Denise said, coming up beside Katherine. "Wouldn't white and pink mums be pretty? Of course, if the wedding's in June, it would be too early for them. "What do you think, Kathy?"

  Katherine tried to concentrate on the flowers outside, but she was more worried about what might be cultivating inside the shop.

  ***

  Darla walked purposefully up to the counter. A short, heavy-set bald man with a bushy mustache smiled at her.

  "What can I help you with today, ma'am?" he asked, a touch of German to his accent.

  "Are you the owner?"

  "Yes, ma'am, that would be me."

  "I'm a friend of Susie's. Susie Harylson. She used to work here."

  The owner's smile faded. "And what is it you want?"

  "Susie's very upset about losing her job," Darla told him. "I was hoping you would consider hiring her back. Maybe part-time?"

  "Did Susie send you here?" he asked tightly.

  "No. I came on my own."

  "Well then, I have nothing to discuss with you. This is between Mrs. Harylson and me. So, if you'll excuse me, I have other customers." He turned to leave but Darla caught his sleeve as he headed out from behind the counter.

  "You know perfectly well Susie will never fight to get her job back. She's too timid. I'm here on her behalf to ask you just to think about it."

  The owner looked through narrowed eyes at his sleeve where Darla held a handful of white cotton. But Darla's fist held on tight.

  "Look, lady, I like Susie. She's a good worker and excellent with customers. But you can't run a business without dependable help and she was always calling in sick." He tugged his arm and Darla let go.

&n
bsp; "You don't understand," Darla said firmly. "This job was all Susie had left. She's lost her kids, she has no family, and her closest friend died last month. She needs to work, even if it's only part-time. It's all she has to look forward to."

  "That's not my concern," he said brusquely. "As a matter of fact, I did her a favor. Now, she can collect benefits that she couldn't before because she was earning money. Besides," his eyes darted around the shop to see if anyone was listening and he lowered his voice. "My other employees were uncomfortable about her having AIDS. I lost two good people while she worked here because they were afraid of getting infected. It just wasn't good for business. Do you understand?"

  Darla's eyes narrowed into slits. She understood perfectly.

  An elderly woman carrying an armful of yellow roses stepped up to the counter beside Darla.

  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a customer," the owner told Darla as he made his way back behind the counter.

  Darla wanted to spit in his hateful face. Instead, she turned to the woman beside her. "Ma'am, I don't think you want to purchase flowers here. The owner fires people because they have AIDS."

  The woman's mouth dropped open.

  "Leave my shop, now!" the owner demanded. He turned to his customer, feigning a smile. "Please excuse the intrusion. Here, let me wrap those for you." As he reached for the roses, Darla knocked them out of his hands and onto the floor.

  "You really don't want to buy anything here, ma'am. He discriminates. Do you want to support a bigot?"

  "Oh, dear," the woman said, her eyes wide.

  The owner turned red with anger and pointed his finger at Darla. "Get out right now! I'm calling the police."

  But Darla was on a roll. She didn't care that he'd picked up the phone, she didn't care that he was talking to the police. She marched right up to the next customer who entered. "You don't want to buy flowers here. He discriminates against people with AIDS."