Such Wicked Friends

by Rod Hoisington

  Martin said, “I’ll take off, folks. Hope you’re okay, Sandy.”

  “You rest,” Chip said. “I’ll be back to pick you up. I don’t want you staying alone in your apartment for the duration even with a new lock.”

  “Because my arm might bother me, or because it might not be safe at my place?”

  “I’m not certain you’re safe anywhere.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The party given by Brad and Jenna Ebert began innocently enough on Saturday night. French doors all along the backside of the house were open and party lanterns stretched out along the deck to the pool. Strains of smooth jazz piano riffed out across the river.

  Their luxurious home wasn’t located on a beach at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean as one might expect. Many impressive Florida homes such as theirs were located on the inland side of the barrier island on the river. Some would say the inland location was better—less damp salty air, quieter and no eroding beachfront. Brad and Jenna had an exceptionally attractive setting. They enjoyed a water view, a cove dotted with undulating boats on moorings, and the lights of the main part of the city on the western horizon. A huge span of pool, garden and wooded lawn ran from the back patio down to a boat dock on the river.

  Partygoers were scattered throughout the interior rooms and outside among the tables ringing the patio and pool. The dress code for that warm evening in Florida was casual. Some men wore shorts as September evenings can be warm. The women presented themselves much better in tropical skirts or pants. The hostess had the perfect shape for her short off-the-shoulder floral dress.

  When she spotted Martin and Priscilla, she came over with predictable greetings, “I knew you wouldn’t miss one of my little soirées.” Followed by air kisses on both cheeks.

  “Jenna, is that your good piano here on the patio that Leland is playing?” Martin asked.

  “Clever me. Cost me four men to move it out here. Isn’t it a nice touch? Brad had a fit saying it will need to be tuned after a few hours in this heat if it survives at all.”

  Priscilla said, “We heard the music walking up the drive. I didn’t realize it was live and Leland could play like that.”

  “Hello,” Jenna mockingly exclaimed. “That’s what aspiring pianists do—they play the piano. Go figure. He has to do something around here besides painting my toenails.”

  Jenna crossed over to the baby grand, which looked entirely out of place on the patio. “Attention everyone. If I haven’t already welcomed you, then welcome. I’d like to introduce our good friend Leland Courier at the piano!” She made a grand sweep of her hand toward him, which prompted warm applause. “Remember Leland is not an employee, so feel free to insult him just as you would any of the other guests.” Two servers began circulating with their trays. A few of the guests clustered around Leland, and some came over to speak with Jenna.

  Priscilla said to Martin, “She was kidding about the toenail painting wasn’t she?”

  “Of course.” That was a guess.

  The two servers kept the hors d’oeuvres coming out, and the drinks kept going down easily. Brad went over and asked Leland to switch from jazz to something more danceable. After an impressive arpeggio, Leland swung into “Dancing in the Dark” with a fox-trot beat.

  Brad began looking around for a likely partner. Martin led Priscilla hurriedly out onto the dance area on the deck to save her from being chosen. After a short while, Brad abruptly cut in anyway and led Priscilla away declaring something about his unalienable right as the party host. Jenna, observing everything, immediately came over and coupled with Martin before he had a chance to disappear.

  He was in the mood for an evening of dancing, and Jenna was quite good when she wasn’t buzzed. It was early, and he knew she was unlikely to start any of her provocative routines until after a few drinks. He spun her away as they started dancing, occasionally twirling her around—her dress swirling around her knees. Since grade school, he had thought she was a miracle of beauty.

  When she caught her breath she said, “I intend to have you as my partner all night. Oh my, did I say all night? How Freudian is that? We positively must get serious about doing away with Brad, mustn’t we? You should dump him as a friend anyway, you know. He does things behind your back. We both should dump him. Let me clue you in, Martin, in case you ever get married. If your spouse starts performing new sexual maneuvers in bed, don’t assume you are the inspiration.”

  “Brad is fine as a friend. His antics don’t concern me.”

  “I thought maybe you and Brad still shared your playthings as you did when you were kids.” The dance ended and she stood before him peering into his eyes. “You’re so nice and loyal. I should have married you in the first place. Perhaps I’ll get another chance.”

  “I never know how to respond when you talk such nonsense.”

  Thus, the Ebert’s twilight party by the scenic riverside began. After an hour or so, a party routine had set in with people matched up in calculated clusters. Priscilla and Martin enjoyed a few dances and were resting, sitting alone at a quiet corner table away from the pool. She said, “They couldn’t have asked for a better night. You know the nicest thing about this party. We’ll be going home together. One of these nights I hope to entice you to sleep over.”

  “That would be very different for me, I must admit. Waking up with you, the brushing of teeth, the bathroom routine. That’s an entirely new level of intimacy. Perhaps some night, if my father’s new caregiver works out.”

  Jenna ushered an older couple over to their table and introduced them. Martin invited them to sit. When Jenna left, the elderly man said, “She didn’t know what to do with us. Looks like you folks got stuck.” Martin responded cheerfully that he didn’t mind at all.

  Friends of friends, they were, down from Ohio. “Be sure to look up Jenna and Brad,” the woman was saying, “that’s what we were told, and that’s what we did. And here we are in Florida.”

  Martin chatted with them, but Priscilla was annoyed. When the woman remarked about the lovely evening, Priscilla whispered to him, “Bet you fifty bucks she complains about the humidity in the next sixty seconds. Be sure to tell them how much you miss the change of seasons. Northerners always love to hear that.” To cover the awkwardness of the whispering, Martin said, “My partner here is begging me to dance. Will you excuse us, please?”

  Once on the dance floor, Priscilla said, “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I see their type all the time at the restaurant. They come down here in the summer and complain about the heat. Plus they’re lousy tippers.”

  When they came back to the table after the dance, the couple was gone. Now Martin was annoyed, certain that Priscilla’s rudeness had prompted them to leave. He was pleased when Jenna again asked him to dance. By then, her breath was a warm mix of gin and breath mint. He didn’t mind.

  She danced up close. “Why didn’t we ever get together in high school?”

  “What are you talking about?” She knew he’d hopelessly lusted for her back then and had no chance. “You were Brad’s property.”

  “After that, you went off to college and I lost track of you.”

  One reason he went away to college was to try to forget about her; he didn’t say that aloud.

  “God knows where in the world you went after that. Europe and then Africa was it?”

  “Southeast Asia mostly.”

  “Did you like the girls over there? I hear those Asian gals will do anything in bed to please a man.”

  “On the contrary, most women over there are more decorous than American women.”

  “Most men want decorum left out of the bedroom.” They resumed dancing and she continued, “Decorous in public and a whore in the bedroom, isn’t that what men want? Speaking of Priscilla, how are you two getting along these days?”

  “Stop trying to provoke me.”

  “Did you know Brad bought her a new car?”

  “He didn’t buy Priscilla a new car. Perhaps, he sold her
something. She did mention she’d like something newer.”

  “One morning he told me he hadn’t met his quota, and if he didn’t sell one more new Prius he was in big trouble. That night, he came in all smiles. Told me Priscilla was going to buy one.”

  “Maybe something used. A new Prius is expensive. She’s a waitress. She couldn’t afford new.”

  “Brad said they worked a deal—she bought the car. I know that for a fact. I’m going to look through his accounts. If he took any of our money out, I’ll kill him. I’m certain he came up with the money for her car somehow. Of course, he’ll have a lot of fun getting her to pay him back.”

  “You’re evil, not to mention fanciful. He’s a good salesman. Probably talked her into something affordable.”

  “Are you interested in talking a woman into doing things?”

  “Give it up, Jenna.”

  He broke away and left her standing in the middle of the floor, something he’d never done before in his life. Priscilla wasn’t at the table when he returned. He sat alone for a few minutes and then wandered into the kitchen. He joined some friends in a cluster there and sipped on a fresh Martini while looking out through the sliding-glass door for Priscilla.

  Almost an hour later, the party began to exhaust itself and some guests had already left. Priscilla finally reappeared, said she’d had some long interesting conversations, couldn’t remember the people’s names. Brad and Jenna were causing some sort of commotion on the dance floor. Martin heard only the end of his tirade.

  “...and what if I was in the garage showing one of our guests a thing or two.”

  Jenna turned from Brad and smiled at her guests. “My husband dreams of being sweetly dangerous among the women.” She pulled him aside, and they continued to quarrel about some woman.

  Priscilla couldn’t handle the contention. She looked red-faced at Martin who nodded in sympathy. They walked over to Jenna and told her they’d be leaving.

  “Not just yet, Martin. I want you to stay. Have another drink.”

  “No, really,” Priscilla said, “we have to go.”

  “I wasn’t talking about you,” Jenna said curtly. “Can’t you find your own way home without Martin? Oh, did you two come together? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that. What an impolite thing for me to say.” She took his hand and tried to lead him away. “Time to start partying.” When he pulled back, she walked alone unsteadily to the center of the deck.

  Jenna started pulling the dress from her shoulders letting it fall to her waist. She shouted, “May I have a drum roll please.” Everyone was now watching. Brad hurried over to her and she pushed him away. “Party time!” She wriggled out of the dress and let it fall to the deck. Leland ran over and picked it up. She stood there in bra, panties and heels smiling around at her now silent guests. “Martin’s been waiting twenty years to see me like this. Come on, Priscilla, you’re next. Show the rest of us what all the men are excited about these days.”

  Priscilla turned to Martin and buried her face in his chest.

  “And look at Martin there, trying to cover his eyes.” Jenna stepped to the edge of the pool and kicked off the heels. She unhooked her bra and flung it out into the pool. She faced the crowd. “Don’t anyone look now.” With her arms straight up above her head she wiggled her shoulders. With that, she performed a clumsy dive from the edge into the pool.

  She came up choking, gagging and fighting the water. The older man from Ohio immediately jumped in, cargo shorts, polo shirt and all. He quickly gathered her in and brought her to the side ladder of the pool as easily as a teenaged lifeguard. As others helped her up, he swam to the center of the pool and retrieved her bra.

  “I can’t take these two ever again.” Priscilla grabbed Martin’s arm and guided him toward the car. “Please take me home. Then I’ll tell you what Brad did to me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  They left the party and at first drove in silence. Priscilla sat with arms folded and stared straight ahead. Martin had an uncertain feeling of guilt, even though he wasn’t sure why. The last thing he wanted was to get her started talking about what Brad did to her. He remembered Jenna talking about a car. That seemed a safe subject. “Are you still thinking about a new car?”

  The subject cheered her. “Bought one. Brad brought it over this afternoon. I was going to surprise you and drive up in it.”

  He was surprised. So Jenna was correct about that part. “Anything would be better than your old one.”

  “Brad started talking about how we all should do our part to save energy and the environment. Don’t you admire people who are aware like that? Next, he showed me a new Prius. It’s a hybrid, whatever that is. Really cute. He let me drive it around before I bought it. He said he was giving me an extra special deal.”

  “Well, a new one at that. You knew he sold cars so you phoned him, huh?”

  “He phoned me out of the blue.”

  “That’s nice.” It did sound as if Brad had talked her into something she couldn’t afford. Had he also helped her with the money as Jenna thought? Not any of his business, yet he was disappointed she hadn’t mentioned buying the car ahead of time. No real reason for her to consult him, he supposed. They drove on for another five minutes. “How are you feeling now? Did you have much to drink?”

  “I didn’t look high, did I?” she said sharply. “I had a couple of glasses from the punch bowl—Cosmopolitans. I was feeling pretty good until Brad started in. That was humiliating.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She turned in the seat to him. “He assaulted me.”

  “Brad didn’t assault you.”

  “He molested me. He’d have just kept going and raped me, if I hadn’t stopped him. This is your lifelong buddy we’re talking about here.”

  “I believe some of that. If he’s a little drunk, of course he’ll keep on going if a woman doesn’t stop him.”

  “What do you mean of course? He gets to feel me up until I make him stop. It shouldn’t be that way. We were dancing. I wasn’t that interested—he’s awfully free with his hands.”

  “That bothers me too.”

  “When a woman paws at you?”

  “No, I mean when a man paws at you.”

  “Oh? Does that mean you care for me?”

  He paused then, “No woman should be treated that way.”

  “Anyway, we’re dancing. His hand kept slipping lower and lower on my back. As if my head was out in space somewhere, and I didn’t know what he’s doing. Anyway, he was the host so I thought he had a dance coming. He was so nice about selling me the car. Then he kissed me. Didn’t even look around to see if anyone was watching. I pulled back. Didn’t say anything. I let it go. You know, Brad being Brad. Then he moved his hand down in front and tried to grab me between my legs.”

  “I’m so sorry that happened.” They had arrived at her place and he stopped at the curb in front. He reached over and took her hand. “That was inexcusable, but Brad would never force himself on you.”

  “You’re more certain of that than me. Jenna saw some of it that’s why she attacked Brad and they started arguing. She hates me because she thinks I’m the troublemaker. That was embarrassing, telling everyone I wanted Brad.”

  “She didn’t exactly say that.”

  “Damn it. Stop standing up for them. They act like oversexed teenagers. Brad going after me. Jenna going after you. Someday, he’s going to grope the wrong woman and a boyfriend or husband will put a bullet through his head.”

  “Wow, you must be angry. I’ve never heard you talk like that.”

  “Well, he can go to hell. I never want to see him again.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Please come in and be with me. Don’t you want to see my new car? It’s parked in back.”

  “I can’t. It’s late. I’m dreadfully tired and have a headache.”

  “We’ve been having our own party regularly here, haven’t we? You’re going to think I’m kooky,
but I’ve been marking the times on my calendar. We’ve got a really good month going for us.”

  “I’m too upset. I’m sorry you didn’t have a nice evening. I should have known better. We should never have gone.”

  “You’re upset? I was assaulted!” She pulled her hand back quickly and opened the door. “Your bed partner is assaulted, and you can’t spare a few minutes to comfort her?” She got out and slammed the door. Then she came back and opened it again. “You know, I’m not seeing anyone else, kiddo. You’re getting my total output. Or as you men would say, my total put out.” She slammed it again.

  He watched her stomp up the walk. She let herself into the lobby and stood tapping her foot waiting at the elevator.

  She was right. What on earth was he thinking? He jumped out and ran after her. She was already gone on the elevator. He pushed her apartment button at the lobby door. She didn’t respond—wasn’t in her apartment yet. He waited and tried again, and again. No response. He found his phone and called her. No answer. He left an apologetic message and then sat there in his car.

  He felt ashamed. Forty-years old and for one of the few times, he has a nice friend who enjoys being intimate. More than just nice, she was special and she deserved better treatment.

  He didn’t want to go home and be alone with his father and the new caregiver. He wanted to talk. Sandy would be perfect. She always understood. Almost midnight. She’d be asleep or in the arms of Chip Goddard or both. The streets were now mostly deserted; restaurants and some bars had already closed. Then he remembered the Touchdown Sports Bar. It stayed open late. He had watched Dolphins games there when they were blacked out on cable. A short drive. As he pulled in, he could see the parking lot was nearly full. Inside, he was just in time for a final loud groan from the crowd. The small group was watching some late west coast golf tournament. He was just settling in at a table in the back when he heard his name called out.