Grown Woman

by Jen Luerssen

  “Good luck to ya, Lia, I have to go or I’ll get a hiding from Cole.” Niall gives Jane and Tyrone a kiss each and then leaves calling them something that sounds like “uh kushla.” It must be Irish and it sounds lovely.

  “I’m going to give it to you straight, Lia. I feel like this whole thing can only end badly for you. I hope I’m wrong but he sounds like he’s just too young and not ready for what you deserve.” Roni appears to back her up by popping off her boob and making a sound that suspiciously sounds like ‘yeah.’

  We both laugh at the baby and her cute noise. “I know, J, it just feels so different from any other relationship I’ve had. It’s like he gets me and he makes my bathing suit area light up. He also blasphemes in rock band, it’s weird, for Daltrey’s sake. Maybe he’s too young and maybe it won’t end well, but he’s the best friend I have outside of you and Paul and I’m not giving that up.”

  “Well, then just be careful with your heart, my woman. How is Paul by the way? I get random texts and emails from him but he tells me almost nothing about his life.”

  I fill her in on how much he’s loving his job, his cute habit lately, of flashing me his butt, and a little about Dante. “I can tell he’s completely intrigued by the mystery of this guy. Talk about weird and mixed signals.” I shrug because there’s not much else to say about men who aren’t communicating well.

  “I hope that you two find what you’re looking for eventually. Whatever that may look like. I still can’t believe I’m married with a kid. Who the fuck am I right now?” Jane says half joking and Roni whacks her on her cheek with her tiny fist to remind her who she is. Jane is a natural mother and it looks good on her.

  “Okay ladies, I’m going to go pee the bed. Can I sing my Tenderoni a song real quick before I go?”

  “You better,” Jane answers.

  “How about “Moon River,” my little Roni?” She shrieks and I sing my heart out for her.

  I’m in bed, all tucked in and exhausted but can’t fall asleep. I stare at the ceiling thinking about the conundrum that is Javier. I really like him in every way. His kindness, intellect, humor and bantering abilities are off the charts. Let’s get real, he also melts my drawers every time he walks in the room. He’s sexy and handsome and just, ugh, perfect. I am worried about this being a cautionary tale of unrequited love, because I am older than him, by nine years. This is not a traditional age matchup. Of course, we are in San Francisco where non-traditional rules the day, but I have my insecurities like anyone else and I know that now he may be smitten with the almost 30-year-old version of me but when I’m 50 and he’s 41 will he still feel that way?

  My phone lights up across the room. Do I get up to see who’s texting me? Duh, of course I do.

  Javi: I feel like I made an error tonight.

  I smile. He’s so formal sometimes.

  Lia: An error? Would that be causing a woman’s ass to hit the floor or ditching me at the bus stop?

  It’s late and I am nothing but truthful after midnight. I’m like an honesty Gremlin.

  Javi: Oh crap, so two errors. Forgive me, Diva, for both offenses. I was a little drunker than I thought and after I pulled your chair, I felt a little sick. I’m an idiot and grovel at your feet.

  Lia: Tell me more . . .

  Javi: You are a goddess and I am unworthy of your company. I will burn all of my Rolling Stone albums as penance.

  Lia: Blasphemer! The goddess forgives, no need of sacrifice this time.

  Javi: You are too kind. Seriously, I am sorry for being a childish asshole.

  Lia: I like when you get a little immature, you sink to my level a little more.

  Javi: There’s no sinking, only elevation.

  Lia: Careful you don’t put me too high up. I’m not a fan of heights, plus I’m not wearing underwear.

  Javi: You are refreshing at 1 in the morning.

  Lia: As are you, slugger.

  Javi: Good night, Lia.

  Lia: Good night, Javier.

  See? Totally confusing.

  Happy Birthday to ME!

  I love my birthday, LOVE. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the performer gene, I love to be the center of attention or whatever. I love celebrating, I love drinking too much, I love cake and adore presents!

  This year, since it’s a big birthday, I decided to have it at my friend Randall’s apartment. He has a bonus basement room that has a stage and a bar. Yes, a stage. He also has a pretty big backyard so it’s the perfect party spot. Randall used to live with TJ until he got married and kicked Randall out. He didn’t take it well at the time and he got in the habit of calling me for a shoulder. I won’t lie, Randall is a weird little fucker, but I get him. He’s really a lost little man-boy who needs a woman to whip his ass into shape. He tried to convince me that I was that woman for a little while, but I made sure he knew that was never going to happen. He is one of my closest friends now and has the best apartment.

  My birthday is the 17th of November and falls on a Saturday so that’s when the epic-ness will occur. By epic I mean a ton of booze, a professional grade karaoke machine, and all my nutty friends. I’ve invited pretty much everyone I know, from school friends, library bitches (except that fucker, Tony), Dean, Paul and his sister, my band, a couple of promoters and club people I know and of course, Javier. I hand him a flyer the Friday after our weird Day of the Dead non-date.

  “Diva, it’s your birthday soon? I had no idea.”

  I thrust my fist in his face and then lift my middle finger slowly. “I may have a super lady boner for my day of glory but it’s a good day, the day I was born. November the 17th, it’s a solid gold date, you can’t deny it.”

  “I’ve never heard someone go on like you do about your ‘special day,’ that was over ten. It’s cute,” he says with a shrug and a smirk.

  “Fuck you and your cute and adorable. I’m not a puppy or a baby,” I say with sincerity.

  His hands go up in deference. “I apologize, no offense meant. You are a beautiful and strong Amazon woman, Diva.”

  We are at one of my favorite coffee shops in the city. I had today off from watching Jack and Diane since they went on a trip for the weekend. So I called Javier to meet me for coffee and crosswords. He loves crossword puzzles, and jigsaw puzzles and games. We play Yahtzee and Risk at least once a week. My favorite is the crossword and I’ll tell you why. We sit next to each other on the ratty couch in the café or at my apartment, legs touching, heads leaning in. I can smell him. He smells faintly of motor oil and fresh linen. I know, he’s unique and so is his scent. Sitting so close to him I have many opportunities to take a whiff of Javier and not be creepy about it—it’s not creepy, I swear. I’m pretty sure I smell awesome too so he’s getting a good sensory experience as well.

  I’ve had two lattés, three cookies, and half of a mini quiche I shared with him. We’ve been here for three hours and I’m ready to bail.

  “I am pretty much Wonder Woman’s hot cousin with zero fighting ability or special powers,” I reply to his nice compliment.

  “What? No special powers? I beg to differ, Diva, your singing power is unmatched. By Amazonians, at least.”

  “Yes, there is that. Speaking of, I have to get home and get ready. Paul is in Madrid so I am glamorizing myself.”

  Javi gets up holding his hand out to me. “Let’s go then, I’ll keep you company while you glamorize.”

  Over the next two weeks, Javier and I are inseparable. It’s like no one else exists. We eat, study, play and do everything together, except sleep and other things you’d do in a bed. We are affectionate with each other. Javier holds my hand, sits next to me, rubs my feet and kisses my cheek a lot. I feel like I should just turn my head one day and see what would happen. Then, I get scared we will lose everything if I do something like that. All of my spare time is taken up by him. Before class, we meet early to study in the library. After class we go to the coffee shop or my apartment to eat and study more or do a crossword. He has picked me u
p after I’m done caring for Jack and Diane, come to all of my shows, helped me get ready and to pack up at the end of the night. If we were having sex, I’d say he was the perfect boyfriend. Alas, we are not. No moves have been made other than friendly affection, the only exception is if we are dancing. We stayed to see a swing band after one of my shows recently, and he and I danced ourselves silly. He said his dad taught him how to dance properly with a woman. The next night when we went to the Makeout Room again, I wouldn’t call his dance moves ‘proper.’

  Paul came home a few nights ago from a trip and found us snuggled up on the couch watching a movie. Javier was asleep and Paul and I had a silent conversation with gestures. His were pretty lewd and mine were frustrated. I can honestly say that I’m probably, mostly, totally in love with Javier. During a video chat with Jane and Tyrone, I told her as much and she looked really worried. Like, she clenched her teeth and gave me an exaggerated thumbs up. I know I’m headed for a world of hurt, but I can’t help it.

  “Are you so excited for the party, my little Lia?” Paul asks me while he straightens my long, dark red hair for the event. “Is this the big night, are you gonna go all the way?”

  I roll my eyes at him because he’s acting like a 50s pajama movie. “Listen, Gidget, I’m going to have an awesome birthday, no matter what. Even if my declaration of non-platonic feelings toward Javier is not returned, this is going to be non-stop fun.”

  “Have you heard from forearms today? Are you matching your outfits?”

  “As a matter of fact, no I haven’t. See, we aren’t always up each other’s asses.” I hadn’t had a text from Javier since yesterday when we debated the benefits of a disco ball versus more complicated lighting in a dancing establishment. I voted that both would be appropriate and he said a disco ball only belonged in a disco.

  It’s weird that I haven’t heard from him but not totally weird. He usually sleeps in on Saturdays and I know he was going to a party with his room mate last night.

  “Not even a birthday text?” Paul puts his hand on his chest and makes a horrified expression. “I thought he knew you.”

  “I’m sure he’ll send one or just wish me a happy birthday in person later. It’s fine, P. Tonight is a big night though. In the spirit of getting older and embarking on a new decade of personhood, I’ve decided to woman-up and tell Javier how I feel about him. I can’t hold it in anymore.”

  Paul looks a little worried and a little proud. “Look at you, my grown woman. You are just taking life by the balls and going for it, aren’t you?”

  “Fuck it, I am. I’m getting my degree, I’m going to get the hot, young guy. I’m on a roll.” I pick up my drink and knock it back with authority, then choke on an ice cube.

  “Let’s not choke on our roll, shall we?” Paul pounds on my back as I calm down.

  My face is bright red and I have tears in my eyes. “Let’s party.”

  It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To!

  This party is epic. Truly. There are about 50 of my best friends here, booze is flowing, karaoke is on fire, and I look super fucking hot. Paul outdid himself with my hair. He did some complicated braid thing on the crown of my head accented by some gorgeous poppies, my favorite flower, the rest of my thick hair is down and pin straight. I did diva makeup because, why the hell not? My dress is probably my favorite thing ever. It’s a dark red chiffon sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline and the skirt has feathers, real feathers cascading down from the waist. I’m wearing black lace stockings and my sky-high black stilettos.

  Did I mention the party is epic? Randall and Paul went overboard with the decorations. Randall’s basement/party room is spotless and festooned with streamers, glitter, and feathers. I guess that’s the theme, “dirty birdy thirty?” Paul surprised me and hired a co-worker to run the karaoke machine and upgraded to the most expensive machine. The weather is unseasonably warm and clear so people are in a great mood.

  I’ve had a few glasses of sangria that Randall made and a couple of shots of tequila. I’m feeling loose and happy and am getting some air outside. I’ve sung more than my share of songs and have eaten my weight in sushi. This is a great party. I told you that already, right? Fuck, it’s not. It’s a horrible party because the one person I want to share it with is not here and is a no show.

  “Hey, birthday ‘ho! Why the long face?” Paul puts his arm around me, smiling freely.

  I roll my lips behind my teeth and then paste a smile on my face that I’m hoping is convincing. “All is good, Paulie, this party is epic greatness.”

  He shakes his head, “Birch, you are full of it. Tell Papa what ails you.”

  “Papa?” I laugh. “I’m fine P, I swear, the party is amazing. I’m just disappointed that Javier didn’t make it.”

  “What? He must be coming later.” Paul rubs my arm and I shake my head. “Oh Lia, let’s get you some cake, will that make you feel better?”

  I nod because I love cake.

  “Okay, I need you to stay right here and don’t come into the room until you are summoned.” He boops my nose and skips away.

  About eight minutes later, Paul and Randall come get me and Paul puts a pretty scarf over my eyes. “Blindfolding me? I’m nervous, please tell me you didn’t get me a stripper.” I grab Paul’s shirt, I think.

  I hear laughing, “No, no stripper, Paul wouldn’t let me because I wanted to get a stripping duo that is male and female. Party pooper said you weren’t interested in a live sex show at your party.”

  I wiggle my hand, “Depends.”

  “See, I told you she was open minded sexually,” Randall scolds.

  “Well, we don’t all love live porn and I’m sure Lia would want to look people in the eye for the rest of her life.”

  “He has a point, I do enjoy eye contact.” Paul has my elbow and is leading me back into the party.

  “Sit here, my beautiful goddess,” Paul says and lowers me onto a chair. He removes my blindfold and I immediately tear up.

  I’m sitting in the middle of the room all alone. All fifty or so of my guests are on or close to being on the stage. Even Fucking Frank, and I’m surprised he’s even at the party in the first place. It’s a sight to see. The dude hired to man the karaoke machine fires it up and I am serenaded by some of the dearest people in my life. All party guests sing at the top of their lungs, the “Birthday” song by the Beatles. I’m laughing, crying and feeling overwhelming joy and love for my friends. It’s impossible for me to wallow when I sit before such an outpouring of love.

  After the rousing song and dance party toward the end, I am presented with the most beautiful cake. Our friend Shannon has started making cakes as a side business and she is a magician. It’s a large sheet cake decorated with poppies and musical notes. Paul lights the “3” and “0” candles he put together and I make a wish and blow them out. My wish is for all of these wonderful people to always be a part of my life. I’ll never forget this night.

  Ringing, there’s ringing somewhere. Ugh, I crack an eyelid and immediately close it to the light of my room, which isn’t really that bright but, ya know, tequila shots. After my cake, Paul, Fucking Frank and I started pounding shots because my birthday that’s why. Not that we really need a reason and Fucking Frank was just the person I needed to hang with in my party mood. I tentatively reach over to the side of my bed to make sure I’m here alone and am relieved to find I am. No, just, no, I wasn’t afraid I’d brought Fucking Frank home, get that out of your head right now.

  Sheldon showed up a little after midnight and a lot after the fifth tequila shot and I was so happy to see him. Dean had asked if it was okay to invite him and he must have asked me when I was near shit faced because I said hell yes. Sheldon and I danced and I’m pretty sure I made the first move and macked on him hard.

  Things get fuzzy but I know Paul took me home in a cab and am remembering that Sheldon declined my invitation to “fuck the birthday birch.” Oh cheese and rice, that must have been pretty.
Whatever, I’m a horny drunk and have been known to rub up against pretty much anyone when I’m super blitzed. Thank Ringo, for Paul. I had made him promise that I go home with him and only him unless Javier was there. Javier wasn’t there. Boy does that sting this morning,

  The ringing continues and I scramble for my phone, which I find half way under my bed. I’m hanging over the side of my bed in an awkward position when I answer the phone.

  “Good morning and I forgive you for waking me up the day after my birthday party so freaking early,” I mumble.

  I hear a sexy chuckle. “Diva, it’s 1:30 in the afternoon.”

  “Like I said, fucking early.” Of course, it’s Javier and my heart sinks. I’m so mad at him and disappointed that he stood me up. Even if he doesn’t have feelings like I do, I would never do that to a friend. “What do you want, ghost boy?”

  He sighs. “I know, you are beyond pissed at me and you want me to die a slow smothering death while buried alive.” I’m vaguely remembering some very rude texts I sent him. “Can we meet for coffee later so I can explain?”

  “I don’t think I can meet you today. My heart hurts and I drank a gallon of tequila last night.” Fuck him, he needs to sweat my anger for a day at least.

  “Of course, I am really sorry I missed your birthday,” he says softly. “I’m sorry your heart hurts.”

  “Whatever,” I know I’m being childish and I don’t give a fuck. “I’m not ready to hear any of your bullshit today.”

  “Got it. I’ll try you tomorrow?”

  “I’ll call you when I’m ready,” I say and hang up feeling the tiniest pang of guilt. Not enough to be nice though.

  I drag myself out of bed, relieved to see I’m in one of my short nighties and not still in my dress from the night before. A hand to my head discovers that all of my braids have been undone, my hair is a wavy mess though, and there’s a poppy half stuck to my forehead. I pile it all up into a messy bun as I walk into the bathroom and chuck the flower into the trash. The mirror shows me that my face is mostly clear of makeup and except for the slight bloodshot eyes, I look like I always do on a Sunday afternoon. I brush my teeth and wipe more eye makeup off, then head into the kitchen.