Two for One-Relatively Speaking (The Two for One series)

by Sean David Wright

  “Where are you planning on having this wedding?”

  Nita’s eyes lit up and she smiled that winning smile of hers.

  “Are you giving us your blessing?” she asked.

  Danielle smiled winningly.

  “Of course you have my blessing,” she stated.

  Coming around the desk Nita leaned down and embraced Danielle, kissing her on the cheek.

  “Thank you, darling,” Nita said, and she really did seem relieved. “Arlene will be so happy! I can’t wait to call her. And, by the way, we’re thinking of getting married in Spain.”

  Danielle shook her head at this bit of intelligence.

  “What’s wrong?” Nita queried.

  “Your favorite writer and mine hates Spain for reasons far too numerous to mention. No, I’d suggest the Netherlands, Nita.”

  “So Max will certainly come if we have the wedding in the Netherlands?”

  “It has a lot of overcast and gloomy days. He thinks it is paradise.”

  “Well, whatever he wants, of course; it is absolutely imperative that he be there,” Nita said and once more it amazed Danielle just how obedient the Bland disciples could be.

  Chapter 24

  Max and Katie arrived home that evening at exactly the same time, parking their cars next to each other’s in the garage.

  “Jesus, you’re soaked!” Katie exclaimed when she caught sight of her metamour exiting his Mercedes. Then she smiled wickedly. “Do I have Jenna to thank for that?”

  “Affirmative,” Max muttered.

  “So have you heard the latest news?” Katie asked.

  “Is Pelham dead?” Max ventured.

  “No, stop being mean.”

  “Is he at least ill?”

  “No, get this: Arlene and Nita are getting married. Danielle just told me.”

  “I bet she’s thrilled.”

  “Actually, she’s not going psycho-bitch about it. She told me it’s not worth the effort. But can you believe it, Arlene and Nita getting married?”

  “Not really. It sounds like the decision of two twits.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Katie admonished. She paused a moment. “I don’t know…I think this whole wedding idea is kind of sweet. Besides, I’m always happy to hear of two gay women tying the knot. There is strength in numbers, Max.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Katie said, “It means that every time a gay couple gets married it helps the rest of the world see that it’s not such an odd thing. It chips away at the idea that gays shouldn’t be marrying. At least that’s what I think.”

  “Be that as it may, Katie, they just met,” Max said wearily. He was trying to guess what Danielle really thought about this. “I know you think I’m just a cynical bastard but even you gotta admit that those two are acting a bit rashly.”

  Katie shrugged when she said, “It’s not our call, though. We’re just spectators for this one.”

  They entered the house proper and Max immediately began heading up the rear staircase. Katie followed. Max stopped halfway up.

  “Wait a minute…where are they having it?” Max asked.

  “The Netherlands, apparently.”

  Max nodded sagely and continued climbing.

  “That’s better than Spain, at least.”

  Upstairs, Katie followed Max into his bedroom. While he stripped out of his sodden clothes and then began rubbing himself dry with a towel she made herself comfortable on his bed and turned the TV on to the evening news. Eventually, Max, now dressed in black pajama bottoms and black t-shirt, joined her on the bed.

  Katie said, “You realize we have a problem, right? It’s Tuesday now which means Sloane arrives in three days.”

  “Who?”

  “Sloane. Harold’s other daughter?”

  Max waved that off.

  “That’s Danielle’s problem, not ours,” he stated.

  “Oh, like we’re not going to feel the effects of this. You know Danielle will be a moody bitch the entire time Sloane is here.”

  “That’s why I keep you around, Katie; you’re so much better at handling Moody Danielle than I am.”

  “You really ought to pay me a salary for all the trouble I save you,” Katie suggested.

  “You mean the pleasure of my company isn’t payment enough?” Max returned. He thought for a moment and then realized something; he said, “What does Danielle have to be moody about? Let’s look at the facts: this Sloane gal is a teacher, right? So she doesn’t even come close to making the kind of salary Danielle makes. Also, Sloane is single, right? So Danielle is more successful in the relationship department, too; hell, Danielle has not one but two lovers. Sloane lives in Pennsylvania with those creepy Amish people whereas Danielle lives in London, one of the most exciting cities in the world. People in Pennsylvania dress like idiots whereas Danielle is the most fashionable person I know. Danielle has Sloane beat in every category.”

  “Except age,” Katie reminded the writer. “Sloane is still in her twenties and I think we can both imagine how Danielle feels about that.”

  Sighing, Max nodded, remembering the months leading up to Danielle’s thirtieth birthday almost four years ago. Danielle had been at times depressed, angry and very touchy about anything having to do with the impending milestone. If she even heard or saw the word “thirty” it could trigger an emotional meltdown. Fortunately, when the day finally came and went—with Danielle throwing herself a birthday bash at her favorite Italian restaurant on New York’s East Side—she returned to normal and seemed perfectly able to function as a thirty-plus woman in a world full of twenty-somethings. However, Katie’s point about the age difference between the half sisters was a good one as it represented one more reason for Danielle to not even give Sloane a chance.

  “Well, what can we do about it anyway, huh?” Max asked in resignation. In truth, he was too tired to care much about that topic. “If Danielle wants to act goofy we’ll just deal with it like always. However, I would just like to point out once again that you don’t see relatives of mine coming to town willy-nilly and disrupting our happy home.” He looked at his companion. “Scotland, Katie,” he said. “Scotland.”

  Chapter 25

  Intimidation Rule Number One: appear far too busy to extend even the simplest of courtesies.

  It was now Friday, the day of Sloane’s arrival in London. Her British Airways flight was scheduled to touchdown at Heathrow at 8:15 tonight, about ninety minutes from now, and had Sloane been anyone else Danielle would have already been en route to the airport to allow for traffic on the M4 and other roads. However, because Sloane wasn’t anyone else Danielle had no intention of going anywhere near the airport; in fact, she was now gathering up her things in her office at ARCL preparing to head to Nobu to meet some friends she’d been neglecting lately.

  Naturally, of course, Arlene had expected that she and Danielle would both be meeting Sloane at Heathrow but when Arlene had phoned from Nita’s just before lunch to inquire as to when they would leave for the rendezvous Danielle had lied and told her mother that no such rendezvous would be occurring because she had to work late.

  “But darling,” Arlene had begun, “she’ll be expecting us to meet her!”

  “I’m sorry Mom,” Danielle had said, and then made up some gobbledygook using phrases like “asset management”, “upcoming gilt auction” and “exchange rate formulary tables” that she knew her mother wouldn’t understand as a way of excusing herself from going to the airport.

  “But darling, really, she’s never been to England before and—”

  “Mom, I’ll be sure she’s met at the airport but I’m far too busy to be there myself.”

  “But darling! If you don’t come with me to meet her then who will? Nita will be in someplace called Leatherneck until past ten for the Rizzuto wedding.”

  “It’s Leatherhead, Mom, and I’m not changing my mind. Don’t worry, though, I’ll be sure she gets to the house alright.”

  �
�Well, fine!” Arlene had huffed. “I suppose I’ll just meet her at the airport myself!”

  “Mom, please, even with the best taxi driver at your disposal you’ll end up getting lost either on the way to the airport or coming back from it and then I’ll get a phone call at two a.m. informing me that you’ve somehow ended up in Portugal. Just wait at the house; I’ll have our guest picked up and then I’ll meet the two of you at home.”

  ***

  Intimidation Rule Number Two: orchestrate a carefully managed display of wealth.

  As the president of ARCL-London, Danielle had twenty-four hour access to a Bentley limousine. Owned by the bank the chauffeured car was Danielle’s to use as she pleased and it was how she typically got around town. It also functioned as the de facto family car; whenever she, Katie and Max went somewhere together it was usually in the Bentley. This evening the limo and its liveried driver, Penry, would be meeting Sloane at Heathrow. Upon making contact with Sloane the chauffeur was instructed to say the following: “Good evening, Ms. McIntyre. Ms. Edwards regrets that she cannot meet you in person but she was unable to get away from the bank to do so. I will be driving you to the estate. Ms. Edwards and Mr. Bland both welcome you to London and hope you will enjoy your stay.”

  Mr. Bland hoped no such thing of course; the use of his name here was merely tactical, as was having Penry use the word “estate” to refer to Trinity Manor.

  Furthermore, Danielle had given Penry written instructions concerning the route through Kensington which she wanted him to take to reach “the estate”. This route was one she had discovered by happy accident one evening while she and Katie were taking a cab home after a night out. She had tucked it away in her mind for use on occasions such as this. It was not the most direct way to the mansion from Heathrow and would in fact tack an additional ten minutes on to the trip but what this path would do is take Sloane somewhat circuitously through the borough, spending several minutes driving her along streets containing homes that were rather small and modest before turning this one particular corner…

  Upon turning that corner Trinity Manor would suddenly appear—enormous, gated, imposing; the prototypical British mansion constructed of stalwart granite and brick and complete with those two turrets, one on the eastern corner which served as Max’s office, the other on the western which Danielle and Katie were in the process of converting into that reading room/spa/hobby room/Max-free zone they had told Arlene about. Arriving at the house via this route Trinity Manor would look like a palace when compared to what Sloane would see previously during the drive.

  ***

  Intimidation Rule Number Three: be the one everyone else waits for.

  The Bentley driver, Penry, had instructions to call Danielle as soon as he dropped Sloane off at the mansion; the clock would start ticking then. It was Danielle’s intention to not arrive home until Sloane had been there an hour. It was possible Danielle would still be at Nobu with her friends but if that party had broken up by then (two of these friends were married with children after all) then Danielle would kill that hour shopping. She knew that upon Sloane’s arrival Arlene would take her on the tour of the house, which was ideal, really, because then Arlene could gush about the splendors of Danielle’s home without appearing immodest.

  As it turned out Danielle was indeed at Harrod’s when Penry’s phone call came. After a lovely dinner at Nobu accompanied by superb French wine domestic duties had forced two of Danielle’s girlfriends to rush home almost simultaneously—one to deal with a seven-year old boy who had shaved his own head, the other to deal with twin teenage daughters engaged in active warfare over use of the family computer. After they left Danielle and the remaining two women had finished off another bottle of wine before saying goodnight. Then it was off to Harrod’s. No sooner had the cab deposited her in front of the store then her mobile rang with the call from Penry.

  Originally, this sojourn to Harrod’s was meant only to kill time; Danielle hadn’t been planning on buying anything. But as soon as she stepped inside the bank president rationalized that this was something of a special occasion after all. It’s not every day one is introduced to the half sister one never knew and besides, there was the second rule of intimidation to consider, a rule which would be served well by walking through the front door of Trinity Manor carrying shopping bags emblazoned with the logo of a store so famous that even fuckwits in Pennsylvania knew of it.

  So, after killing that hour purchasing more shoes that were bound to one day trip Max up when he least suspected it Danielle paged Penry to collect her from Brompton Road.

  “Did everything go alright, Mr. Penry?” was the first question Danielle put to the chauffeur as he pulled away from the curb.

  “Very well, ma’am. Her flight was even several minutes early.”

  “Did she trouble you with much luggage?”

  “Only two suitcases, ma’am.”

  “Ah,” Danielle said and then fell silent as she watched London go by outside the window. After a few moments she asked another question.

  “So what did you think of her?”

  Penry’s eyes caught hers in the rear view mirror.

  “A very pleasant young lady, ma’am,” was Penry’s reply.

  Danielle smiled. The driver couldn’t be trusted on this point because being a proper British servant what else would he have said? She decided not to ask anymore questions and in a few minutes she was home.

  ***

  Katie intercepted Danielle on the driveway the same way Max had intercepted her on the day Arlene arrived over a month ago.

  As Penry drove off Katie said, “Be nice.”

  With a puzzled look Danielle queried, “What do you mean?”

  But all Katie said in return was, “You’ll see; just be nice.” And she took her wife’s free hand, kissed her hello and walked with her into the mansion.

  ***

  What a difference a mother makes, Danielle thought the moment she laid eyes on Sloane in the drawing room.

  For weeks now Danielle had been secretly wondering what her half-sister would look like and depending on her mood the image in her head changed. There was Slutty Sloane, a woman with a smashing figure whose skirts were very short and sweaters very tight; Boring Sloane, who looked like a librarian, wore thick glasses and had acne; Schoolteacher Sloane, who was really just a better-dressed, slightly more alluring version of Boring Sloane; Hippie Sloane, with braided hair, tie-dye skirt and a goddess amulet around her neck; Gothic Sloane, a morose downer in jackboots and torn fishnets; Tattooed Sloane, with pictures of fairies and the names of numerous ex-lovers inked on her skin; and about a dozen other varieties. The most alarming iteration, the version that scared Danielle the most, was Exotic Sloane—a woman who, like Max, was biracial and therefore possessed the striking features that someone whose parents come from different ethnicities often possess. Perhaps she’d be half African-American (also like Max) or half Native-American or half Filipino or half Brazilian—Danielle imagined many different combinations (the oddest involving a child born from an Eskimo woman who fell in love with an Australian Aboriginal man) and for each one also imagined a heart-stoppingly beautiful woman who would simply captivate Max. Or worse…Max and Katie.

  However, the real Sloane was none of these.

  After Danielle, escorted by Katie, had walked through the front door with her three Harrod’s bags Arlene materialized immediately from the direction of the drawing room saying, “Oh, darling! I’m so glad you’re finally here! Sloane is so anxious to meet you! When did you have time to go to Harrod’s?”

  “Um, that’s where the meeting was, Mom. They have conference rooms in the back.”

  “How lovely! Well, put those bags down and come this way.” And as if Danielle were a visitor to the mansion instead of a resident Arlene escorted her daughter to the drawing room.

  “Here she is!” Arlene enthused as soon as they broke the threshold.

  Danielle couldn’t help her jaw dropping open
as Fat Sloane rushed over to give her a hug.

  “Hiiiiiii!” Sloane said, drawing out that single syllable for the duration of the embrace during which Danielle felt like a rag doll.

  “Um…hi,” Danielle feebly replied, still stunned. She spied Katie watching this scene from the couch; Katie repeated her earlier admonition by mouthing “Be nice” to which Danielle mouthed in reply, “Oh my God!”

  When the hug ended and Sloane stepped back Danielle got a chance to take a good look at her.

  The woman was enormous, certainly one of the fattest people Danielle had ever seen in the flesh. She had Harold’s eyes and no less than four of his chins. The immediate comparison Danielle made in her head was to a Sumo wrestler until she realized that that was being unfair to Sumo wrestlers; they at least had some athleticism to their bulk, some nimbleness and power even whereas Sloane was simply fat, and her fat was just that—fat. There was only one phrase to describe her, Danielle concluded: middle-America-Wal-Mart-shopper. And she dressed the part perfectly; actually, Danielle could not believe how loathsomely Sloane was attired. The woman woke up this morning, Danielle thought, knowing she was traveling to London (London!) to meet her half sister who happens to live with someone as famous as Max Bland and this is what she chose to wear? Once-white-but-now-dishwater-gray sneakers, pink sweatpants and a black and gold Pittsburgh Pirates sweater? It was as if she had expected to land in England and be taken to a NASCAR race. Danielle shuddered imperceptibly. If this represented the contents of the two suitcases Penry spoke of then the thought of appearing in public with this woman during the next few days was nauseating, especially when one factored in the possibility of bumping into someone Danielle knew.

  Sloane did, however, have a very pleasant face with an expression that seemed stuck on “loyal and eager to please” mode, and Danielle couldn’t help smiling welcomingly to this newcomer in her life.