Black Light: Suspended

by Maggie Ryan

  “The rest? Oh no you did not!”

  “Of course I did,” Martha said, pulling open the door. “You can’t just have one set of undies. What would your granny think? I’ll be right back.”

  Charlie shook her head, but turned back to the mirror. Her hair had been washed, trimmed and styled into a very flattering bob. Her eyebrows plucked, she’d had both a manicure and a pedicure, all ten nails painted a deep ruby red. She’d gritted her teeth during the Brazilian wax and then sat naked in the steam room until she thought she’d melt right down the drain. She’d shrieked like a little girl when Martha pulled her into the cold pool. Every muscle had been pounded and massaged and every inch of her body moisturized. She’d handed over a small fortune to replenish her almost non-existent make-up supply. And now, staring at a woman she hadn’t really seen in what seemed like forever, a smile curled her lips, and she had to admit, she didn’t look half bad.

  Charlie lifted her Venti size Caramel Macchiato with extra caramel and took a sip, then brought a forkful of the carrot cake to her mouth. “As good as this cake is, I was expecting something completely different. Today has been surprisingly okay, but again, it’s been all about me. When are we going to get to the ‘knocking my socks off’ bit?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” Martha said, looking around the small café.

  “And why do you keep checking to see if anyone is listening? Exactly what have you gotten yourself into? Please don’t tell me I’ve gone through all this just so when I visit you in prison, you won’t be embarrassed by how I look.”

  Martha laughed and shook her head. “All right. Here’s the real carrot. We’re going to get all gorgeous and then, my friend, I’m going to take you out on the town. Well, only part of the town, but believe me, you’ll understand it’s the only place to be. Charlie, it’s absolutely amazing. It’s the hottest club in D.C. and we’ll dance and… hey, you’re totally blowing that sexy look,” Martha said from across the table. “Close your mouth; you look like a fish.”

  Charlie snapped her mouth shut, only to open it a second later. “I am not going out to some crowded as shit club and don’t you even think about wagging that pinky finger. I did not agree to go dancing.”

  “Oh come on,” Martha said. “Did you honestly think you were going to go through all this so you could… what? Sit at home and watch television?”

  “What’s wrong with that? I don’t have a lot of time to just veg out. Some carrot that is.”

  Martha took the last bite of her slice of lemon pound cake and leaned forward. “That, my friend, is where you are so wrong. You’ll be eating those words when you come out with me tonight. And, Charlie, I’ll make you another deal. If it doesn’t knock your socks off, I’ll not only clean up after you, I’ll wait on you hand and foot. You won’t have to move your ass off that couch until your vacation is over.”

  “Hmmm, you’ll wait on me? Do everything I ask? Rub my back—”

  “I’ll even rub your feet. Come on, Charlie, please just give it a try.”

  Charlie sat back and sighed. How could she say no to a woman who had been there every time she’d needed her since the day they’d met? “Okay, fine. You win. I’ll go, but on one condition… the moment I decide I’ve had enough, we come home.”

  “But, not before you give it a real chance,” Martha countered. “No running for the door the moment we get there. No pulling a Cinderella and going home the moment the clock strikes twelve. Deal?” She held out her pinky and Charlie laughed even as she shook her head.

  “I’m so not falling for that again, but yes, you’ve got a deal. I’m yours until at least one minute past midnight.”

  Martha smiled and drained her cup of Chai tea. “Great. Then one more stop and we can go home for a little nap before we get ready to go.”

  “What stop? I’m ready for a nap now,” Charlie said, finding her coffee cup plucked from her hand the moment she took her last sip.

  “You don’t honestly think I’m going to let you out of the house in anything you brought do you? Not with what’s in those pink bags. I’d offer to loan you something to wear, but I’m like a foot taller than you.”

  “And you’re a math person?” Charlie said, slipping off the tall stool to stand next to her friend, looking up. “Six inches maybe.”

  “Whatever, shortie,” Martha said, smirking as she patted Charlie on top of her head.

  The boutique Martha took her to was the first shop Charlie had stepped into that hadn’t been a super-store since she could remember. Looking at the tag hanging from the dress, she whistled. “Do you know how many pairs of jeans I could get at Wal-Mart for this amount?”

  “Nope, and don’t care. This would look great on you,” Martha said, handing her another dress. “Go try those on and I’ll bring you some shoes.”

  Knowing that to argue was futile, Charlie had the first dress on by the time Martha pushed back the curtain. “Well, what do you think?” Charlie asked.

  “When was the last time you bought a dress?” Martha asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t have much of a need for dresses in my job. Why?”

  “Because those boobs you had in that sexy bra are lost in that dress. It’s got to be at least one…” she paused, checking the tag, “make that two sizes too big. Go on and try on the other and I’ll get a smaller size. Oh, and here, you can try these on as well.”

  Before Charlie could speak, the curtain closed again as Martha disappeared, leaving two shoe boxes in her wake. Charlie slipped out of the dress and into the second one. It was a deep pumpkin color with metallic threads woven throughout that actually seemed to sparkle when she turned to look at her butt.

  “That’s much better,” Martha said, causing Charlie to jump.

  “God, sneak up on a girl why don’t you?”

  Martha ignored her. “Besides being a little too long, that looks great on you.”

  “Too long? Hell, I thought it was too short.”

  “You thought wrong.” Hanging the dress she’d gone to get on a hook, Martha opened the first shoebox. “You’re so lucky you don’t wear a size ten. I have such a hard time finding shoes but these are gorgeous. They will look yummy with the pumpkin.”

  The shoes were brown suede, scalloped around the edges and while the heels were four inches, they weren’t stilettos. Charlie slipped her feet into them and stood once more staring at her reflection. When she reached to tug down the hem, Martha slapped her hand away. “Cut it out. You look perfect. Okay, those are both keepers. Try on the black.”

  “I really don’t need two dresses,” Charlie said.

  “Every girl needs a little black dress,” Martha said, the dress off the hanger and already unzipped. “Stop complaining and admit you’re having fun. Oh wait, take off your bra. We can’t have bra straps showing.”

  Charlie was soon pulling the black dress over her head. The difference in sizes was instantly apparent. Narrow straps held up a bodice, that despite its plunging neckline, clung to her breasts, went over her shoulders, leaving her entire back bare. The skirt was full and flared when she gave a little twirl.

  “Wow, Charlie, that’s even better than the pumpkin!” Martha said, squatting to lift the top of the second box.

  “No… no black,” Charlie said, shuddering at the memory of the last time she’d worn black heels.

  Martha looked up at her and then nodded. “You’re right. We need a pop of color. Hang on.”

  By the time they climbed into the cab Martha had hailed, Charlie was the proud new owner of not only the pumpkin dress and heels, but a pair of red stilettos to go with the black dress. It took both women to carry all the purchases they’d made throughout the day. Sinking back against the seat, Charlie shook her head. “Keep this up and I’ll be asking for that loan.”

  Martha smiled and arranged the bags. “Too late. You already confessed that you buy everything at Wal-Mart.” Reaching over, she took Charlie’s hand. “Thank you, Charlie. I know I’ve been a b
it bossy…”

  She shrugged when Charlie rolled her eyes and said, “a bit?”

  “Fine, a lot bossy, but only because I love you.”

  “I know. I love you, too, but if you don’t get me home and to bed, I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

  “Well, look who’s back,” Martha said as Charlie came down the stairs. “Shit, I barely recognize you, Charlie. You look incredible. Are you ready to go?”

  Charlie ran her hand down her dress. “If I’m not now, I never will be.”

  “Relax. There is an entire bunch of carrots just waiting for you to nibble on.”

  When the cab dropped them off, Charlie could only stare. The line of people wrapped around the corner. “Good grief, it’s going to take hours to even get to the door!”

  “I know, isn’t it great?” Martha said. “And, it’s like this every single night.”

  “Great? By the time we get inside, if we get inside, it will be past midnight. There has got to be someplace else we can go.”

  Martha took her hand. “Absolutely not. Runway is the hottest club in town. Come on.”

  Charlie could do nothing but follow as Martha pulled her towards the front of the line. She could feel the stares of the people waiting as they passed them by. About to warn Martha that there was most likely about to be a riot for cutting in line, she came to an abrupt stop when Martha stopped walking.

  “You’re looking lovely tonight, Marty. Good to see you again. Have a great evening.”

  Charlie was sure her jaw was dragging along the floor as Martha gave the guy at the door a little wave, an assurance of, “We’re going to have a blast,” and then pulled Charlie through the entrance.

  “Whoa! Since when does an accountant have such power?” Charlie asked.

  Martha smiled and released Charlie’s hand. “Let’s just say I’m a good customer. Well, what do you think?”

  It took her question for Charlie to forget about the line and easy entrance as she looked around. The only thing the club had in common with others she’d visited was that there were people everywhere. Even the music sounded more vibrant, the acoustics so well designed that you could actually hear the lyrics of the song being played. She saw long walkways and looking up, realized the club was multi-level.

  “I have to admit, it’s incredible.”

  “I told you it would be. Let’s grab a drink.”

  Martha didn’t wait for her reply, just turned and walked towards the massive bar. Charlie smiled. The somewhat shy woman who had been her roommate was gone. Martha looked absolutely incredible in the red sheath dress she was wearing, the fabric clinging to her curves. Instead of being embarrassed by her height, slouching or attempting to stand on the sidelines, Martha was walking—no, make that sashaying—through the club, her red heels making her even taller than when attending the parties Charlie had dragged her to on campus.

  Seeing the hundreds of bottles of liquor behind the neon-lit bar, Charlie was impressed. The labels were all top shelf brands. She ordered a vodka-cranberry and watched the bartender pour the Grey Goose over ice, adding the cranberry juice. When Charlie opened her purse, Martha shook her head.

  “Nope, tonight’s on me.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Charlie protested. “I really do get a regular pay-check.”

  “I know, but tonight is special. Consider it your belated birthday present.”

  Charlie returned her wallet to her purse and closed it. “All right, thank you.” Sipping her drink, she people-watched. Everyone was obviously having a good time. People were laughing, bodies were gyrating on the floor, and Charlie realized that, for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t looking at strangers and profiling them. Instead, she was simply having fun. When Martha set her empty glass on the bar, plucked Charlie’s from her hand, and dragged her towards the floor, instead of protesting, Charlie did as she’d promised. She forgot her worries and simply went with the flow.

  They had danced to several songs, both women even dancing with different partners, before they took a break as a set ended.

  “Did you lose an earring?” Charlie asked, noticing that Martha was staring at the ground. “You better find it fast because once the dancing starts, you’ll lose a hand trying to grab it.”

  Martha shook her head and looked up. “No, I was checking to see if your socks… well, your shoes were knocked off.”

  Charlie rolled her eyes. “No, but I am having fun. Want another drink?”

  “No, I want to go to stage two.”

  “Stage two? Is that upstairs?” Charlie asked, noticing several people above them, most sitting in areas designed for conversation or viewing the floor below. “Oh, there really are runways?”

  “Yes, they hold fashion shows here as well as concerts. I’ve been to both and they are great. God, you should have been here when the Crushing Stones played, they were unbelievable. But, that’s for another day. Come on.” She grabbed Charlie’s hand and pulled her deeper into the club.

  “Oh good, I need to visit the little girl’s room,” Charlie said as the restrooms came into view. When she had finished and was washing her hands at the sink, Martha was waiting, and for the first time since Charlie had arrived in D.C., her friend looked a little leery. “What’s wrong?”

  “How serious were you really? I mean last night when you said you want to reevaluate your life?”

  Charlie didn’t know if she was more surprised at the question or the fact that the woman asking it seemed unsure if she should have even asked it. Taking the time to consider that fact, she realized that she was ready for changes in her life. Everything within her was telling her it was time. Smiling, she ran her hands down her hips. “Well, since I’ve gotten rid of my granny panties, I’d say I’m good to go. Why?”

  Martha smiled. “Just making sure, and you are going to be so glad those panties are from Victoria’s Secret and not Wallyworld.” Grabbing her hand yet again, the two left the bathroom. After looking around, she continued. “Now for the real fun. What I’m about to show you, to share with you, is the real carrot.”

  Charlie was puzzled as she watched Martha walking towards a curtain at the end of the hallway. “Where are we going? This isn’t the way back to the club.”

  “Just follow me,” Martha said, giving her a grin. “Pretend we’re following that yellow brick road.”

  Yellow brick road? Was she talking about the Wizard of Oz? Well, there is a curtain but that guy on that stool looks a lot more like some sort of guard than a wizard. All these thoughts ran through Charlie’s mind at lightning speed. Before she could ask Martha what exactly she’d meant, the man stood.

  “Hello, Marty,” the man said, giving a smile that lightened the serious expression he had been wearing.

  “Hi! This is my friend, Charlie, and I just told her she’s about to step into Oz,” Martha said.

  The man looked Martha over, his grin telling his appreciation. “Well, you are wearing ruby slippers, so…” he pulled an edge of the curtain aside and gave a little bow, “welcome and may you find the answers to your heart’s desires.”

  Martha grabbed Charlie’s hand and pulled her behind the curtain. “All right, what’s going on?” Charlie asked, looking over her shoulder to see that the curtain had already closed behind them. “Who was that guy?”

  “Just think of him as the man at the door to the Emerald City,” Martha said, not giving an answer that made any sense. Martha opened a door and pulled Charlie inside, quickly shutting the door behind them.

  “Okay, forgot that second mojito, you’ve obviously had enough. What in the name of God is going on, Martha?”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure?” Martha asked.

  “Seriously, a janitor’s closet?”

  Martha reached out and gave her a hug. “Just wait, I promise you’re going to be—”

  “Yeah, knocked out of my socks,” Charlie said, shaking her head.

  Charlie watched as her friend reached for a mop han
dle, giving it a pull. When a door opened, Charlie just stared at the purple glow that filtered into the closet. “Why do I feel like you got your stories mixed up. First Oz and now Narnia?”

  Martha laughed and stepped through the door, turning to look back. “Forget Oz and Narnia. Think more falling through the looking glass. Come on.”

  Charlie followed and the two stood at the top of a flight of stairs. “Martha—”

  Turning towards her, Martha took both of her hands. “From here on, call me Marty.”

  “Wait, that guy at the door and that man at the curtain. They called you Marty—”

  “Exactly.”

  Charlie took a deep breath. “Honey, I love you, but you’re not making any sense.”

  Martha laughed and when Charlie put her hands on her hips and opened her mouth, Martha said, “Okay, okay. I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m so excited to share this with you. Remember that club where we took those courses? The one in Houston? The one we loved?”

  Charlie nodded, the mere mention of the club and the memories of what she’d experienced within its walls bringing a heat to her insides and a skip of her heartbeat. Suddenly, the curtain, the guard, and even the closet were making a little sense but it couldn’t possibly mean what she thought it might. Could it? “Martha, are you telling me that… that there is some—”

  “Marty,” Martha corrected. “Picture it about a thousand times better. Once we’re inside, you can choose to participate or just watch other people play. No pressure at all. The membership is very exclusive, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, absolutely confidential. Oh, and we need to give you a name. How about… Tex?”

  Charlie’s head was spinning with what Martha had just revealed, but that suggestion stopped the rotation. “Tex? For God’s sakes, Martha… Marty, do I look like some big burly cowboy?”

  Martha laughed. “No, but you do look so delicious that every cowboy, politician, rock star, and any other warm-blooded man is going to be drooling. Oh, but if Tony is here tonight, he’s mine.”