Turning a New Paige

by Ginny B. Nescott

  “Hey there, Miss Breakup Special. So, you and Cuz are getting along? How’s his—” Cough. “—listening skills?”

  “My skills are fine. Any more from you and I might not treat you to a free dinner.”

  “All right, Cuz.” Alfie said. “Hold your horses or whatever you’re holding. I’m taking you up on dinner, but only if I can bring a girlfriend, too.”

  “Girlfriend? You’re gay.”

  “So’s he. Meet us down by the car in fifteen.”

  “Too soon. I need to get ready,” Paige interjected, rising out of bed and sorting through clothing.

  “Honey, I’m starved, and dressing to impress is something you don’t need to do with me. You were such a depressed lump yesterday. You can’t possibly look worse,” Alfie said over Michael’s phone.

  Michael inhaled and let out a deep groan. “I can attest that she looks mighty fine as she is.”

  Paige rolled her eyes. She held a random pile of clothing.

  “She just needs to bundle up a bit more.”

  She started to throw on clothing.

  “You’re both naked, aren’t you?” Alfie said. “Birthday or no, please hustle. I’m starved from all that excavating and shoveling.”

  Click.

  “I’m starved, too, and I didn’t do any lifting,” Michael announced. “Well, not too much.”

  That earned him a face full of clothing.

  ****

  With sidewalks only half cleared, Paige and Michael rushed to meet Alfie, opting to sometimes walk in the streets. The wind was milder now, and Michael was happier wearing his coat this time. Paige was smarter this time, too. She wore layers, borrowing his sweater and hoodie, which was long enough to look almost skirt-like under her jacket. Her shoes barely fit over the thick fresh socks she stole from him. Her hair was twisted in a knot, which she pinned up with a binder clip, all temporarily hidden under the hoodie.

  As they approached her car, her pace quickened, making her slide on slick pavement. She didn’t fall, though, with Michael holding her arm.

  “My car, my clothes, my things!” she drawled thickly.

  “My arm! One more near spill and you will be twisting my arm off.”

  “Sorry.” The apology came with a giggle.

  After a commotion of greetings and plans for who should drive—Paige since the seat couldn’t be pushed back more—and who navigated—Alfie since he was thin, could hold the boxes, and still squeeze in the front seat—they began the process of rocking the car free from the diagonal parking spot. With a shove from the three men, it finally backed up. Alfie piled in, precariously. Paige sat determined but white knuckled at the wheel.

  “See you two at the restaurant and don’t forget the wine, Cuz!”

  “Hey, I thought it was your turn,” Michael called out.

  Alfie pretended not to hear. “Quick, drive, Paige.”

  “Which way?”

  “Right. Left. No. Just go.”

  With fumbled directions and finally locating a spot in the garage a few blocks away, Paige parked. She rifled through her car, grabbed a small bag, and stuffed in a few items.

  “I know you need your things, Paige honey, especially to change out of whatever the hell this is you’re wearing, but trust me, you are overdressed for dinner, and if we don’t go soon, I will eat whatever the heck I am holding here.”

  “Hedgy.”

  “Hedgy?”

  “You’re holding my stuffed animal from when I was little. I think it might be a hedgehog, and when my brother—”

  “Honey, that story needs to be shut down.” Alfie closed and locked the door, pulling her in the direction of the restaurant.

  “Oh, save it for later?”

  He shook his head. “How about save it for someone else.”

  Paige laughed. “Poor Hedgy. Nobody wants to hear his story.”

  “I can think of many other stories I would love to hear though. Especially ones involving a certain birthday boy and you. Hope you two are playing nice, because I don’t shovel for just anybody. Walk faster, girl. That’s my stomach growling.”

  “Is that what I heard? Seemed kind of windy.”

  “I plead the fifth.”

  ****

  The restaurant might have had simple décor, but the food was divine. The four of them sat at a square table, boy-boy, girl-girl with the red headed waiter from Sizzle playing the part of the other girl, or so he had said.

  “Call me Red,” Alfie’s friend had explained to Paige when they’d first settled in.

  “With a name like Rutherford, you have to,” Alfie added.

  Red blushed, his face all the more crimson against his carrot-red hair. Michael was about to speak. Red cut him off. “Before you ask, the carpet matches the drapes.”

  “I was just going to ask you to pass the pitcher of water, but good to know.”

  Several dishes were ordered, all meant to be shared. Naan bread came early at Alfie’s pleading, but all shared in the gobbling of the warm bread, so much so, that another one was ordered. Michael produced two bottles of wine to choose from, both with funny names—If You See Kay and Big Red, which had a picture of two roosters and the word “cock” hidden in red.

  “I picked them out,” Red announced.

  “I get the bottle with the cocks, but what’s with the biker chick on the other?” Alfie asked.

  “Read the label out loud twice and fast.” All four laughed at the sounded-out explicative the words produced. Both bottles were opened and even shared with a table close at hand.

  “Time for Twenty Questions, starting with Birthday Boy,” Red suggested after several gulps of wine.

  “We’ll be here all night. How ‘bout a few questions directed to each instead,” Groundhog Man suggested.

  After a quickly bantered negotiation, the plan landed on six questions each, with the ability to plead the fifth on one question and to start with basic questions first. Groundhog Man had only one older married brother. When asked, Paige divulged that she had two siblings, both older brothers, so she knew how to fight and when to run.

  Dishes were passed. The tandoori chicken landed on Paige’s plate twice. “What? I told you I had older brothers. This is seriously delicious chicken. Didn’t anybody else have brothers or sisters growing up?”

  “Yoo hoo. I did. I had an older sister,” offered Red. “Who else could I steal makeup from?” He continued between bites of curried vegetables. “And I didn’t just use the makeup for dolling up. I needed to hide the bruises when I got beaten up in high school. Daddy would never have understood.”

  Paige dropped her fork. Alfie and Michael swallowed hard.

  “That’s terrible.” Paige reached for his hand.

  He pulled his hand away, leaving her unsure what to do next until she noticed he wiped his hand on his napkin and returned it, giving hers a squeeze. “It’s all right, honey. What doesn’t kill you makes you great at makeup.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh, the others joining in the relief Red just allowed them to have.

  “I thought it made you stranger—I mean stronger,” Alfie added with a chuckle.

  “Same difference. Besides, I learned to live with the hard stuff.” Red was the first to laugh at his own double entendre. He then turned to Paige. “Okay, my turn to ask. Full name, worst and best nicknames ever.”

  Michael leaned in. His amber eyes interested and focused on Paige.

  “Amelia Paige Myers, but everyone calls me Paige. That’s partly because of the nickname I hated. Amelia Squealia.” That brought chuckles, and one oink from the group. “Wrong kind of squeal. I was sort of a tag-along to my older brothers when I was little. I guess when things got too rough, I would run off and tell Daddy on them.” She paused. “As for my best nickname…Flee,” she said, looking at Groundhog Man.

  Michael’s hand travelled to her leg.

  “Like the creepy biting thing?” Red looked repulsed.

  “Flee as in run away or maybe run to
ward? Is that too corny?” By now, she was blushing again, heat from his hand on her adding fuel to the embers.

  Michael picked up her hand and kissed it.

  Red sighed. “Honestly, too bad your cuz is into heteroville. He’s just my type.”

  “Dark haired, handsome-ish?”

  “No. Male.” Both Alfie and Red laughed, their gazes locked and holding long enough for the laugh to drift to a smile, a warm assessing smile. Red was the first to break eye contact. “My turn to ask this Groundhog Man a question.”

  “Mo, it’s mot,” Paige tried to say, finishing a mouthful of food heavy with sauce that produced a fire in her mouth. She grabbed her water.

  “Ask him a tough one,” Alfie said.

  Paige took a big swallow of water, losing her chance to do the asking.

  Red stared at Groundhog Man and asked, “Why did you break up with your ex? What happened there?”

  “Oooohh jugular,” Alfie said.

  “You can plead the fifth. Alfie did earlier,” Paige offered, fanning her mouth.

  “When?”

  “Parking lot,” Paige reminded him. “That kind of gas doesn’t come from cars.”

  “She’s right. We all got to let it out sometime,” Alfie said with a laugh. “So, Cuz, you pleading or letting us have it?”

  “I’ll answer.”

  “Oh, goodie. He’s going to let us all have it, not just you, sweetie.” Red patted Flee’s shoulder. She nearly spat out her bite of tandori.

  “Ahem.”

  They looked at Michael, Paige in rapt attention.

  Michael took a swallow of wine. “Susan, my ex and almost fiancé, was a corporate manager, an exec of sorts, and older than me by a few years. I was smitten by her. She taught me plenty, but she was always what Oneida call ‘a’e’, you know, distant in some way. We were together for a while—”

  “I’ll say,” his cousin interjected.

  “One day,” Michael continued, looking everywhere but at Paige, “she just announced she was going to take a job in Europe within two weeks. Not an assignment or trip. A position. No discussion. She welcomed me to follow. Looking back, it all happened so fast and unilaterally. Just when I called her to say I thought I could make a transfer work out, she told me it was all right, don’t. She’d already moved on. So, I didn’t break it off. I was dumped, big time, and over the phone.”

  Paige’s jaw dropped. She tried to process what Michael had divulged. Before she could offer any sympathy, Red spoke up, “That’s not big time. Heard lots worse. Remember Tranny Franny?”

  “Who?” Alfie asked, looking confused.

  “You know, the one who wore the whole Fran what’s-her-face outfit for the Bouffant Blow Out party at Sizzle? Fran…Fran Dress-Her—”

  “Oh yeah. Had the whole New Yaawwk accent down, too.”

  “Well, she got pissed off and dumped him right on stage in the middle of her act. Franny took her wig off and threw it at him, too. Hurt him. Who knew she had a jar holding up the whole bee hive? Anyway, sounds like this ah-eh…ah-ay whatever…distant thing Susan bitchy exec had, well, she wasn’t right for you and you didn’t even have a jar-filled, smelly wig thrown at you.”

  There was a pregnant pause at the table.

  Alfie laughed first and raised his wine glass. “Here’s to wigless endings.”

  They clinked and sipped.

  “Mmm. Here’s to If You See Kay wine,” Michael added.

  They clinked, some chugged.

  “Here’s to exes staying exes,” Paige offered and swallowed hard after the clink, thinking of how it also applied to her. Michael looked right at Paige for the toast and took an extra sip.

  They returned to their plates. Perhaps it was the building heat from the wine, along with the spice from the food, but Paige chose that moment to remove another layer of clothing, tugging off her borrowed hoodie, and shifted Michael’s sweater into place. Forks stopped mid-air.

  She looked at them and drew her hand to her face, patting it, feeling for crumbs. “Uh, is there something I should know?”

  “What on God’s green earth is that thing on your head, girl?” Alfie demanded.

  Michael just held back his laughter, eating a mouthful of biryani. He held up his hands in innocence.

  She reached up and squeezed the twisted hair knob on top of her head. It was roughly the size of a tennis ball, held together with the makeshift clip. “It’s my hair twist-knob. You said hurry so up my hair went.”

  “Well, dial it down. Did they teach you nothing in the South?”

  Red came to her defense. “Oh, I get the whole updo thing, but a binder clip?”

  “Well, I nevah…” Paige put on her thickest drawl and biggest smile as she stood up. “No touching my Khuza-whatever dumplings or chicken pandoor-hooey while I’m gone. Gentlemen, if you will excuse me.” She turned and sashayed to the bathroom, feeling their gazes follow her.

  She returned with her thick hair twisted up in the back, still held by the binder clip with the ends bouncing as she walked. “Better?”

  All three men mumbled something, heads down, staring at their food.

  “What did I miss? Hey, I’m down all three dumplings. We Southern women take dumplings seriously. Who stole them?”

  Each of them pointed to the other. Michael uncharacteristically squirrelled food in his cheeks and gave her a smile she gladly returned. She did a double take and eyed him suspiciously. He did not, however, return the last bite of dumpling.

  Wine glasses were filled once more. Eventually, their bellies were, too.

  Paige, while not behaving daintily, still attempted some decorum, even when Groundhog Man’s hands touched hers or when his leg accidentally rubbed against hers for a few minutes. His reassuring touches were as welcome as their delicious meal.

  When Twenty Questions continued, Alfie admitted his dad kicked him out when he found out he was gay. Alfie had moved in with Michael, who took care of him even when his now ex-girlfriend objected to having another person around. “The only bad part about living with this guy here was that he refused to share his clothes for any reason.”

  Paige smoothed her hand over the soft cashmere of Michael’s sweater that she was wearing and saw him in a new light. Michael had loaned his clothes to her without any fuss. He took her in, expending effort on her. Not only that, he cared for Alfie. Really cared for him and took his own generosity in stride.

  She let the conversation flow around her, barely listening as she studied Michael. There was a depth of concern and pride when he looked at Alfie and even Red. He was just supposed to be a rebound, but all of it made him more alluring. He was an adult. A caring, very masculine, very hot, adult.

  His hand patted her leg again. The simple gesture of his touch jarred her from her wandering thoughts. A familiar warmth rushed up to her face, and she rejoined the group’s discussion.

  Red had been speaking. “We all learn from our past even from that bitch, Susan. Excuse me, executive bitch. Michael, you must have learned a lot from her.” He crooked an eyebrow to make sure the double meaning wasn’t lost.

  Alfie laughed.

  “What? I meant business acumen, board room behavior,” Red falsely corrected himself.

  Paige turned to Michael with a questioning expression.

  He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t quarterly report and tell.”

  Laughter continued as they lingered at the table.

  In the next lull to the conversation, Paige said, out of the blue, “I’m going to miss calling you Groundhog Man after today.” She stared at her plate, toying with her leftover food. Not ready for the evening to end, she began to mindlessly build something on her plate using the rice and bread.

  “Don’t worry, honey. You can call him that every year,” Red blurted out, followed by, “Ouch. What? They look cute together is all. This here girl was just giving them a teensy shove.”

  “Don’t put him on the spot. He’s paying for dinner,” Alfie corrected with a smile.


  Red nodded. “Right.” He triple-snapped his fingers with sass. “Bitch, you be done calling him names after today. Cute cake though.” He indicated Paige’s plate “Love what you did with the naan, curry rice, and that green stuff. Capsicum I think they called it.”

  “Really there’s a food called cum?” Alfie interjected. “Even I don’t want to touch that line.”

  They all looked at what Paige had created. She had stacked the extra naan bread, over the last of the rice, making it look like a miniature cake. She pushed it to Michael. “Happy birthday, Groundhog Man.”

  “We need a candle,” Red announced.

  The manager found one and put it into the mini-naan cake, adding impetus for a loud and off-key rendition of the birthday song. Others in the restaurant joined in. Michael blew out the candle.

  “What did you wish for?” Alfie asked.

  “He can’t tell you, or it won’t come true,” Red huffed.

  “It already did. You are all here with me,” Groundhog Man said.

  “Eww…now I am going to be sick,” his cousin said, rolling his eyes.

  “Ex-nay on the complain-ay. He’s paying for dinner, remember-ay?” Red reminded Alfie.

  “I meant awwwww…” Alfie corrected and offered to cut the cake.

  “Wait, let’s get some photos first.” The candle was re-lit and selfies taken with the four of them. They quickly shifted, traded phones, retaking and forwarding photos, including one where Michael was puffy-cheeked, as if he had a hard time blowing out his candle. The last two photos were with just Groundhog Man and Flee.

  Alfie cut the cake and placed tiny slices on their plates. They ooh’ed and aah’ed over the bits as if it were the finest birthday cake. The bill was paid, goodbyes were said, and they stood outside the restaurant door.

  “Hard to believe,” Alfie said to Paige, “that just over twenty-something hours ago, you plopped down at my table, a depressed mess, and now look at you. Well, apart from the caught-in-a-storm fashion thing, you’re all glowing. Am I good at this Breakup Special thing or what?”

  “Right, like it’s all your doing,” Groundhog Man said as he gave his cousin a bro-hug.

  “So glad you admit it.” Alfie waved and left with red-headed Rutherford, arms linked.