Straight from the Heart

by Layce Gardner

  Millie arranged the presents on the coffee table. She shook the gift from Rosa and Steph. They had wrapped the pen in an old shoebox so it didn’t look like a pen. “What’s in here?” Millie asked.

  “A fancy pen so she can look classy when she interviews people,” Steph said.

  “Good idea,” Bernie said as she unraveled the Happy Birthday banners. She tossed a cellophane tape dispenser to Millie, who deftly caught it with one hand.

  Millie began to tape crepe paper from wall to wall in the living room. Unfortunately, Millie was short, which meant the crepe paper hung at most people’s eye level. Steph didn’t comment. She just ducked as she walked under the crepe paper.

  “Oh, son of a gun! I left the helium tank in the car. I’ll be right back,” Bernie said as she set four big bags of balloons on the dining room table.

  “Whoa,” Steph muttered. “That’s a lot of balloons.”

  “What’s a party without balloons?” Millie said.

  Thirty minutes later, the house was filled with balloons of every shape and color. Steph had to admit that Bernie’s “most is best” attitude was fun.

  ***

  Rascal was the first one through door when Parker and Amy arrived.

  “Meet my birthday present!” Amy exclaimed. “His name is Rascal. I hope it’s okay for him to come inside.”

  “Of course it is,” Steph said.

  While Amy oohed and ahhed over the decorations, Rascal took it upon himself to meet and greet all the humans. He sniffed everything—feet, legs, butts, crotches. He saved Rosa for last. With his tail wagging a hundred miles a minute, he ran over to Rosa, sniffed her wheels, then he gently put his paw on her leg and his head in her lap.

  “I think he likes me,” Rosa said. She rubbed his silky ears.

  Rascal’s heavy tail thumped the hardwood floor.

  “Sure he does,” Amy said. “He knows good people when he sees them.”

  “He’s awful sweet for such an ugly hound,” Bernie observed.

  “Isn’t that what your last girlfriend said about you?” Millie teased.

  Bernie guffawed. “I’m not all that sweet.”

  Rosa asked, “Where’d you get him?”

  “I got him at the shelter,” Parker said. “They had him scheduled for…,” she continued in a whisper, “you know.”

  Rosa stroked his head. “He’s a nice dog.” She lifted Rascal’s head and looked into his big, brown eyes. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” In answer, Rascal licked her face.

  Rosa laughed and wiped off the dog slobber with her sleeve.

  “Sorry about that. He loves to kiss people,” Amy said, apologetically.

  “Yeah, he kisses like my first girlfriend,” Rosa said.

  Rascal moved to the coffee table of presents and stuck his nose up to each and every one. Parker grabbed his collar and forced him away from the gifts. “Sorry if we were late,” Parker said. “We had to stop at PetSmart and get him a few things.”

  “Uh, yeah, like a lot of things. He is now well-equipped,” Amy said. “I even got these cute little poopy bags.” Amy pulled a bright yellow plastic bag out of her back pocket. “It has little paw prints on it.”

  “It’s what lesbians do,” Parker said. “We don’t have kids, so we adopt fur kids.”

  Millie joked, “Just be sure to keep the dog poop away from Mabel. You know how she loves to torment Edna with dog poop.”

  “Where is Mabel anyway?” Amy asked.

  “Clara and Mabel will be over as soon as they finish up with the bake sale,” Millie said.

  “What bake sale?” Steph asked.

  Millie explained, “We had to think of a way to raise money to buy more ammo. We almost did a car wash, but the thought of a bunch of eighty-year-old women trotting around in bikinis didn’t seem wise. So, we did a bake sale instead.”

  “Wait. Back up a minute,” Rosa said. “You’re raising money for what?”

  “Ammo,” Millie said. “You know, bullets. For our neighborhood watch group, Millie’s Militia. None of us realized that ammo was so expensive. Did you know that it costs twenty dollars for fifty rounds? And that’s not even for the hollow points. How’s a senior citizen on social security supposed to be able to afford ammo these days?” Millie shook her head in disgust.

  “I should petition the NRA,” Bernie said. “Maybe they could come up with an AARP discount or something.”

  “Just because we’re on limited incomes doesn’t mean we should be vulnerable,” Millie said with conviction.

  “Or maybe I could write to Charlton Heston. I bet he’d help us out,” Bernie said.

  Millie shook her head. “He’s not with the NRA anymore. I think he’s dead.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Bernie said. “I heard he was a real asshat, but I liked those monkey movies he did.”

  “Planet of the Apes,” Millie interjected.

  “And that other movie. You know, where he ate people?”

  Millie nodded knowingly. “Soylent green is people.”

  “That’s the one!” Bernie said, slapping her thigh.

  Millie and Bernie both laughed, obviously in their own little 1970s movie bubble, unaware of everyone around them.

  Finally, Amy cleared her throat, bursting their bubble. “I see,” she said, for lack of anything better to say. She didn’t cherish the thought of Millie and Bernie with guns and ammo. She was afraid somebody was going to get hurt. Or worse.

  But it was Rosa who piped up, saying, “I hope you ladies are being careful. Guns aren’t toys, you know.”

  They all looked at Rosa, sitting in her wheelchair, the victim of a gun. There was a moment of awkward silence, then Bernie said, “Rosa’s right, of course. Guns are not toys. And we shouldn’t have such a cavalier attitude about them.”

  At that moment, a loud slurping sound was heard.

  “What’s that noise?” Steph asked.

  The loud slurping continued.

  Amy looked around the room. “Oh, no. It’s Rascal. He’s drinking out of the toilet.”

  “I’ll get him,” Parker said, hurrying down the hallway. But before she could get more than a few feet, Rascal came running back into the living room, streams of water dripping from his muzzle.

  Everyone laughed.

  “C’mon, Rascal boy,” Parker said. “Let’s go outside and do some business.”

  Rascal barked and began to jump around the room. His tail was helicoptering so fast, it was nothing more than a brown blur. Obviously, his doggie vocabulary included the words “outside” and “business.”

  Parker opened the sliding glass doors and Rascal bounded outside. He spotted a squirrel, immediately leaped off the deck, and tore across the backyard in hot pursuit. Parker followed him outside, sliding the doors closed behind her.

  Millie sat down on the sofa next to Rosa’s chair, and asked, “I was wondering if you could help us with our target practice? We all wanted to ask you if you could go to the shooting range with us and teach some gun safety. And maybe give us some tips on shooting,” Millie said.

  “Oh, I don’t know…” Rosa said, pointing at her wheelchair.

  “Who cares about the wheelchair? It doesn’t affect your brain. You can teach us. You know everything there is to know about firearms. Is Tuesday good for you? We all have bingo on Wednesday. Speaking of which, I got you some new daubers, Amy.”

  Amy nodded. She knew from long experience that you might as well go along with Millie; it was easier. She never took no for an answer.

  “But I’d need help getting in and out of the car and then where will we store the chair?” Rosa asked.

  “Bernie can do the lifting, she’s strong as an ox. And she’s got an enormous trunk,” Millie said.

  “I hope you’re not referring to my tush,” Bernie said with a lusty wink.

  “I was referring to your Buick,” Millie said. She turned back to Rosa, “It’s settled then. We’ll pick you up on Tuesday at two o’clock. Thank you f
or helping us.” She leaned over and gave Rosa a big hug.

  Amy caught Rosa’s eye and smiled. Rosa couldn’t help but smile back. She had just gotten roped into helping Millie’s Militia. But truth be told, she didn’t really mind. In fact, it might give her something useful to do.

  ***

  Steph opened the door to find two women holding huge, festively wrapped presents. “Susan and Tess are here!” Steph yelled over her shoulder.

  Steph exchanged awkward hugs with Susan and Tess and led them to the living room where the others were congregated.

  After the hugs and cheek kissing were over, Amy said, “I was under the impression this was a no present event.”

  “Yeah, we noticed,” Tess said. She cocked her head in the direction of the coffee table which was piled high with gifts.

  They set the presents down on the floor near the table.

  “Geez, what the hell you got in there?” Steph asked.

  “You’ll see soon enough,” Tess said.

  While the others talked, Susan squatted down by Rosa’s chair and asked quietly, “How are you feeling?”

  “Pretty good. I’ve got a hydrocodone helping me along, but basically I’m doing okay,” Rosa said.

  “Be careful with those,” Susan warned.

  “Stop being so bossy,” Rosa said. Her tone indicated she wasn’t amused.

  Susan looked taken aback, but only for a second. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be treating you like a patient anymore.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the timely arrival of Parker. She came in through the back door with Rascal. He was panting and his tongue hung out.

  “We had to play ball. He insisted,” Parker said. “I’m going to borrow one of your Tupperware bowls for his water dish,” she said to Steph. She went into the kitchen with Rascal following close on her heels.

  After his loud slurping, Rascal reappeared. He stuck his nose in Tess and Susan’s crotches. Apparently deeming them okay, he went to Rosa and laid his head in her lap.

  Rosa gently stroked his head and said, “Aww, hello there, Rascal.”

  Parker said, “He was trained as a therapy dog. Unfortunately, nobody wanted a Pit bull.”

  “I know how you feel, buddy,” Rosa whispered to Rascal.

  Suddenly, Rascal ran to Parker, grabbed the tennis ball out of her hand, brought the ball back to Rosa and placed it in her lap. Then he stood back and looked at Rosa as if to say, “Well? You going to play with me or not?”

  Rosa shook her head sadly, saying, “Oh, Rascal, I wish I could. My days of fetch are over.”

  “Like hell they are,” Parker said. “Come on, let’s go in the backyard. The wind has died down. It’s nice out there now.”

  “The ground’s too soft back there. I’m afraid I’ll get stuck,” Rosa said. She picked up the tennis ball and tossed it in the air a few times. Rascal sat down at full attention, his eyes never leaving the ball, waiting for her to throw.

  “You can throw from the deck. He’ll bring it to you there,” Parker said.

  “I know, but…” Rosa began.

  Parker knelt down over Rascal and pointed his face at Rosa. Parker spoke in a deep voice as if she were Rascal talking, “Please, Rosa, pretty please. Play catch with me. I love the ball. Please throw the ball for me, Rosa.”

  Everyone laughed, but nobody louder than Rosa. “All right, come on, boy. Let’s go play catch.”

  Rascal leapt up and ran to the back door. He was so excited to get outside, that he pressed his nose against the door, leaving wet nose prints across the glass.

  ***

  Rascal was in heaven. Rosa, who’d played third base for her college team, had a good arm. Rascal brought the ball back each time and set it gently in her lap. Rosa beamed. It was hard to tell who was having more fun, the human or the dog.

  Rosa tossed the ball into a high pop fly. Rascal took one flying leap off the deck, ran halfway across the yard, jumped three feet in the air, and neatly caught the ball in his massive mouth. He made it look like the easiest thing in the the world.

  “Impressive! He is a great dog,” Rosa said.

  “We like him.” Parker sat down on the deck’s steps. Parker patted his head as he sat down, tongue hanging out. “I think we’ll keep you,” she said. He licked her face. “Yuck.”

  “That’s a thank you.”

  “Next time, let’s shake instead,” Parker said with a chuckle. Rascal’s ears perked up at the word “shake” and he held out his paw. “You are smart. We’ll have to watch what we say around you.”

  “You know, Parks, I haven’t thanked you for everything you’ve done,” Rosa said.

  “I don’t need thanks,” Parker said. “You’d do the same for me.” After a moment of silence, Parker continued, “Has Steph told you our plan?”

  “What plan?”

  “Millie and Bernie are going to come over and give you a hand while Steph’s on her work rotation.”

  Rosa opened her mouth, but Parker stopped her with a firm hand in the air. “Before you get all up in my face, it’s just the way it’s got to be. We can ignore the problem that isn’t going away or we can make a plan. This is a plan. Initially, I was going to take you to work with me but with the holidays coming, the remodeling business slows down. I only have one job at the moment and it’s not exactly accessible with your chair. Hanging out with Millie and Bernie just makes sense. Besides, I think they need you. You can make sure they don’t get too carried away with the whole gun thing.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone run these plans by me? It’s my life,” Rosa said churlishly.

  “It’s your life in that chair. Until you can get in and out of a tub and into bed by yourself you’re going to need help. Don’t bother protesting. It’ll save us both time.”

  Rosa looked away, staring at nothing. After a full moment, she sighed and said, “All right. I was going to be bored stiff all by myself anyway.”

  “Millie and Bernie can take you places. They already have plans. I had no idea old people could keep so busy. Just listening to Millie’s day exhausts me.”

  “At least I have something to look forward to now,” Rosa said. “Even if it is just going to the shooting range.” She threw Rascal’s ball. He hadn’t been prepared, but he dashed off and fetched it anyway.

  “You’re going to walk again,” Parker said.

  “I hope.”

  Parker smiled to herself. As far as she was concerned, hope was exactly what was needed.

  ***

  Steph stuck her head out the back door. “We’re getting ready to cut the cake.”

  “We’ll be right in,” Parker said.

  Steph disappeared back inside. Parker stood, saying, “If you need anything, I’m working over at the Thomas House next week. They’re having an open house where they sell art stuff. The stairs need replacing and the downstairs toilet needs new innards and a wax ring. I hate doing toilets.”

  Parker opened the door for Rosa.

  “You’re not going to get any pity from me,” Rosa teased. She wheeled her chair through the door and straight into the kitchen.

  The birthday cake was front and center on the table, covered in blazing candles. Amy waved away the cloud of smoke, laughing. “I think we found the reason for global warming.”

  “Hurry and blow those out before you burn down the house,” Steph said.

  Amy inhaled deeply, made a big show of thinking of a wish, then blew hard. All the candles extinguished on the first try. Everyone clapped.

  “Let them eat cake!” Amy exclaimed. She picked up the big knife and began to slice generous portions.

  “I want a corner piece,” Bernie ordered.

  Parker looked at the platters of food on the counter. “Aren’t we going to eat dinner first?”

  “Nope, I want cake first,” Amy replied. “I want dessert first from now on.”

  “I prefer to look at each birthday as an addition rather than a subtraction,” Millie said, accepting a sl
ice of cake from Amy.

  “What d’ya mean?” Steph asked.

  “Each year is an added year to your life not a subtraction from a total life span of which you have no idea how long that will be. It only makes sense.” Millie took a huge bite of cake.

  Bernie said, “We should all live dessert-first lives.”

  “That’s a great toast!” Rosa said. She turned to Steph, “Where are our champagne flutes? We have to toast the birthday girl.”

  “Unfortunately, the champagne hasn’t arrived yet,” Steph said.

  “Oh, yes it has!” a voice called out.

  All heads turned to see Mabel and Clara entering the room. Mabel was carrying a box filled with champagne bottles. She set it on the counter with a thud. She took off her coat to reveal a bright blue pantsuit with white piping down the bell-bottom legs and white patent leather shoes. She looked like a lounge singer—a little lesbian Tom Jones.

  Clara, on the other hand, was the height of fashion. She wore linen pants, a long vest, and so many scarves that she was single-handedly keeping the scarf industry in business.

  “Where’d you get all that champagne?” Steph asked.

  “At the liquor store,” Mabel said.

  “Don’t blame us. Parker ordered it,” Clara said. “Our job was to pick it up.”

  Mabel pulled out one of the bottles and examined the cork. She began to unwrap the foil around the bottle’s neck. “Maybe I should open this in the back yard?”

  Steph took the bottle from her. “I’ll open it.”

  “What makes you such an expert?” Mabel said, squinting one eye.

  “Because I have quick reflexes. Watch this,” Steph said. She popped the cork and caught it in her hand. The execution was impressive.

  Everyone applauded.

  “Let me try that,” Mabel said.

  “No, don’t do that,” Clara said, but Mabel already had the bottle in her hands. She popped the cork, swiped, and missed. The cork flew across the kitchen and pinged Bernie right between the eyes. The cork fell to the floor and rolled around.