SUMMER

The next day showed all the signs of summer in full riot, with flowers blooming, and new green pushing over the top of old green growth on every tree and hedge. I glanced out the window, where I saw that even stubborn shoots coming out of the sidewalk were making excellent climbs towards the sun, and every weed looked like a flower. The sun had risen much earlier than I had expected, though I wasn’t surprised; summer could happen suddenly here. I heard music from all sides. The sidewalks were filled with pedestrians in shorter clothes with bright faces, and the polite shuffle of young people moving around the old. Everything appeared in fast motion.

Ruminating happily on the previous night, I remembered Michael calling me, shouting over the phone from the loud club where he had been with the Mayor, both of us straining to hear each other in order to arrange our meet up…

He came over shortly before 5 am? 6 am? Wasted no time in throwing me up against the wall and kissing me passionately. Ah. That explains the upper shoulder pain, my aching head told me.

I hadn’t been exactly sure if we were going to chit-chat first, so I had made a quick snack of whatever I could find in the house, which I vaguely remembered included carrots, apples, cheese, peanut butter and cheese poofs, along with a fifth of vodka. That all got thrown aside when he laid me on the coffee table, which I could now see explained the mess of alcohol and sticky peanut butter all over the floor. I winced again. That was going to be a bitch to clean up. Maybe I could cut the carpet out?

I looked around and saw the bedding half on the floor, the other half a small cocoon shape that I had just fallen out of. No sign of Michael, though. I was both relieved and disappointed.

We had definitely had the sexy fun time. The first was a bit rushed, but we also had a nice second round an hour later after a catnap close to dawn. He must’ve snuck out in the late morning. I wasn’t sure if I’d see him again, but it was making my head hurt to think about it, so I shuffled into the shower, before going into work.

By then, Selene had promoted me to four or five nights a week, and I was usually on the North Beach run.

Selene asked after my dad when I got in, and I filled her in on the results with Dr. Tuva, and Dad’s strength coming back after the brief time I was there. She was happy he was back to good health, and I thanked her for her concern.

Meredith and I huddled up next to the mirror, gossiping and doing our makeup. It felt wonderful to have someone so immediate to talk to. We were doing things I’d seen other girlfriends doing: fussing with each other’s hair, laughing, giving makeup advice--though that was more her terrain. We’d just gotten to the part in my story where Michael wrecked my apartment, as the rest of the office trickled in, getting ready and setting up the merchandise. Felix passed by several times, loading costumes from the back training room to the costume closet.

During my conversation with Meredith, I heard Lisbet talking with Selene and Beth. I overheard snatches of their chatter, and it sounded like they were all going to a concert together.

“What’s your next move with Michael?”

I snapped out of eavesdropping, smiling at Meredith.

“Oh, I don’t know. I definitely had a fun time. But it was just a fling, you know. Getting my girls some lovin’.” I gave Meredith a little sassy shake of my shoulders, making my breasts wiggle in an overdone burlesque gesture. She burst out laughing, which was what I was hoping for.

Felix wandered by, and I decide to play it up even further.

“Of course, if he could get me a job in the Mayor’s office, then I’d really be making it, so don’t expect to see me around here for much longer!” I dropped my left hand down, snapping my fingers twice for emphasis. Meredith collapsed in giggles on the high stool, curled over the counter in front of the mirror. Felix scowled at us both as he carried more costumes by. Served him right for listening in.

“Pale, Meredith, come over here please. Change of plans,” Selene called out, getting our attention. We joined her at the manager’s desk, as Lisbet and Beth wandered away.

“Girls, I’m going to change your usual run tonight. There’s a private party I need two girls for. The girl we use for almost all of our private events broke her ankle, and can’t come in. Lisbet would normally take over, but she wants to work North Beach tonight, and she has seniority.” I glanced over at Lisbet, who watched us covertly in the mirror. I looked back to Selene.

“What’s the money like? Is it as good as working a run?” I interrupted. I was slightly irritated that I was getting kicked off North Beach. Meredith nodded in agreement.

Selene carried on as if I hadn’t broken in. “The client paid a flat amount, and we do the trays by their request. Instead of selling, you will just be providing what they requested. In this case, they have asked for mostly cigarettes, cigars, gum and mints. No candy, no roses, no lights. They also have some special items they want you to carry, lighters I believe. You will dress in the standard uniform for consistency.

“The amount you earn tonight is a flat amount, plus your tips. Parties have several advantages. You make money no matter what, which may not happen on a regular night out, and the people at private parties are always really, really nice. Also, the night is shorter. You will start at 9 pm, and finish by midnight. Ransom will be driving you.”

When Selene had mentioned that we might not make money on a regular night out, I had rolled my eyes. I had long since learned that the only kind of girl who comes back after 6 hours with no money in her pocket was lazy, or a drunk.

“You aren’t going to say what our take is, are you?” I pressed Selene.

She lifted her eyebrows at me. I knew I was being slightly rude, but I was still not clear on why Meredith and I were being put out for Lisbet. I knew it was fair, but I didn’t have to like it.

“Okay, Ms. Diva, I will tell you. Your flat rate is $85, which is perfectly respectable, along with any tips you make. I will warn you, don’t be aggressive about tips. The client has paid for you to be there as part of the theme and decoration. It’s not the same hard sales you do in the field.” I caught her gentle jibe, and managed to look abashed after she revealed the cut. I glanced over at Meredith, who looked happy with that amount.

Attempting to take it down a notch, I said, “Thank you for this opportunity, Selene.”

She rewarded me with my favorite smile of hers, and my heart beat a little faster.

“My pleasure. Have fun tonight.”

Meredith and I dressed at a leisurely pace, excited for the new experience ahead. We listened to the office conversation, and were delighted to find out that Ransom and Thom had made our trays for us, since they were adding special product from the client. Now that we had time to kill, we went back to discussing our private lives.

“So, when is your next open mic? I would love to come and see you, ” I prompted, as I was zipping Meredith’s top up her tiny spine. Then she faced me, and I turned around obediently.

“Actually, next week I’m singing on Tuesday. Are you working that night?” She zipped me up in return.

I turned back to face her. “Nope! That’s perfect. What is today? I lost track of things, being at my dad’s.” I was trying to remember what day it was, but it just wouldn’t come to me.

Meredith laughed. “It’s Wednesday, silly.”

“Great, that makes next Tuesday my Sunday night. I’ll be there!” I beamed at her.

Ransom came over and glared at us. “Your stuff is ready. Let’s go.”

Our drive to the party was short and Meredith and I were soon exiting Ransom’s inky black sedan. Even though Ransom’s presence was often anti-social, bordering on hostile, I couldn’t help but enjoy myself; the ride was so smooth and quiet, compared to Thom’s sputtering, jerky tobacco-stained rickshaw. Thing looked like a beaten up trash can.

We stepped into a private club off Fillmore and Geary. The building was tall, glass, and modern, set back from the hustle of the Fillmore concert house on the corner. The reception area was silent. I glanced down at the paper in my hands that Ransom had given me which read, “8th floor, Suite 1388.”

Meredith and I glided into an elevator, already feeling confident. We arrived at the 8th floor, turning right down a long hallway with beige walls, and dark navy doors to each suite trimmed in white. The carpet was so thick we couldn’t hear our footsteps. At the end of the hall, last door on the right, was Suite 1388. Just under the suite number on a gold-plated plaque, was the title, “Recreation Room”. Meredith had been leading, and shot me a “look-how-fancy” expression, and we knocked loudly. “Come in!” we heard several people shout through the door.

Meredith opened the door, and we both gasped. The room was easily the size of a small parking lot, with a soaring high ceiling, crystal chandeliers, a black marble bar, and astounding acoustics. The roar of the party was so well shielded from the hall, the sound made me take a step back. Meredith’s mouth was still hanging open. A few attendees were smiling broadly at us, but didn’t make a move to greet us. As we were getting our bearings, a well-dressed man in a suit strode quickly over to us. He pulled us into a small foyer to our left that I hadn’t noticed when we came in, where coats were neatly placed on hangers by an attendant.

“Hi there! So glad you could make it. The party is in full swing. I guess you guys just go to it, eh? Let me know if you need a drink, or anything. Take breaks whenever you want, for however long you like. Feel free to get comfortable,” he said breezily. I got the impression he’d been saying this to everyone who walked in the door, since customers didn’t often treat us with the same regard as guests.

He looked like one of the patrons I would see on North Beach: tightly curled blond hair almost like dark sand, bright blue eyes, eager for conversation. He had a wiry build, and was constantly in motion, like holding still didn’t come naturally.

“Thank you. We’ll just circulate and get the crowd loosened up,” I offered, stealing a quick glance at Meredith.

She’d managed to close her mouth, but then blurted out, “Is that a pool and Jacuzzi? And a chocolate fountain?”

Mr. Restless laughed at her astonishment. “Yes, it’s a pretty amazing space. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor when I chose to buy a condo here. Please, enjoy a drink. And thank you for coming.” He wandered off, mingling and toasting his guests.

Meredith and I got over our initial shock and came up with a game plan. Selene didn’t say anything about having to work the same space, and I didn’t know how big it was, but I assumed it couldn’t be very different than working the concert a few weeks ago. Meredith and I decided to do a full lap, crossing over each other as necessary to get the full scope of the size. We headed off in opposite directions.

Having the aspect of hard selling off my shoulders was a relief, and made working the event a real joy. My tray was much lighter, making it easier to navigate tight spots. I could essentially lift it over my head, and even give it a spin for flair. Handing out cigarettes with lighters made much more sense. Unexpectedly, my tip jar did fill, albeit slowly.

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The space was ENORMOUS. The front room was already impressive, but what I loved even more were the winding nooks, crannies, small side gardens and fountains, obscuring people and conversations. At first glance, I thought there were about 75 attendees, but after doing a full lap into the labyrinth, I guessed there were closer to 200. There were two smaller bars along my path, compared to the one at the front, and there was no lack of alcohol. Despite this, the party wasn’t getting out of hand. There were plenty of things to do beside drink -- all manner of games and equipment: ping pong, darts, pool (water and billiards), badminton, shuffleboard, and croquet. I even saw some people roller skate by me on the smooth, concrete path.

I finally caught up with Meredith after 20 minutes. Her tray looked like mine, a respectable dent had been made in her product.

“Whoa,” was all she said.

“Tell me about it,” I echoed.

“Let’s go get a drink in front,” I suggested.

“You read my mind.” She nodded in agreement, and we took off towards the front. We got stopped a few times, and took our time flirting and providing guests with conversation. Selene was right; all the guests were super nice to us, never pushing boundaries or asking inappropriate questions.

The night flew by. We each had a couple of drinks, and even got talked into roller-skating around the party by the host. We both giggled uncontrollably, trying to hold the tray and keep ourselves upright. This only lasted about 20 minutes before we changed back into our shoes. In no time at all, our trays were nearly empty. We gave the last few lighters back to our host, headed back towards the front to use the restroom, and then went outside to wait for Ransom.

Meredith and I had been waiting outside less than a minute when he pulled up, right on the dot at midnight. The sedan door opened with a whisper, and I sighed blissfully as I settled in. Meredith and I both sat satisfied and quiet on the way back. Ransom finally broke the silence as we pulled up to the office.

“Well? Were they happy? How did it go?” he asked, clearly unused to having to probe for conversation.

“It was amazing. Just amazing. They loved us,” Meredith replied, content.

¤ ¤ ¤

The next week passed quickly at work, though Felix was a little distant with me. He avoided talking with me in the van, and we didn’t strike up any chitchat in the office. He was all business. I tried asking him once what was wrong, but he just stared at me with a you-know-what’s-wrong-don’t-give-me-that look. And since I hadn’t done anything wrong, I ignored him.

I called my dad to check in and see how he was doing, and apparently the new medication was working out well. He sounded chipper, and told me he’d been able to do more and more each day. I called Dr. Tuva just to make sure, and he confirmed that Dad was out of the woods in terms of a relapse stroke. This was such a relief, I felt even better about going out to see Meredith.

Tuesday night, I was standing in my closet, happily undecided on what to wear, when my phone rang.

“Pale?” a strangely familiar voice inquired.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“It’s….Thom. You know, from work?” he said, hesitant.

I was completely floored. Thom. Calling me. What on earth could this be about?

“Hey! What’s up?” I asked.

“I have to get away for a night. I can’t take it anymore. If I don’t get a night off, I’m going to kill someone.” He said all this in a tense rush. I could hear the force of his frustration.

“My sister’s coming to take care of my mom tonight. I’m calling to ask if…please can I join you in whatever you are doing?” His pleading was so foreign to his gruff nature it sounded strange. I took pity on Thom. It must’ve taken some serious courage for him to call me.

“Fine. You can join me. But I’ll warn you, I’m not up to anything wild and crazy,” I cautioned.

“Great. Thanks. Just text me the address and I’ll be there.” He started to hang up.

“Wait! It’s not ‘til 8:30 pm!” I called out.

“Okay! See you then!” He sounded jubilant, and then the phone went dead.

Thom was in such a rush to get out, he didn’t even care where we were going. Well, I hoped he wasn’t looking for a bender, because I wasn’t going out to get soused.

I dressed and made a quick dinner at home, climbed into my car and pulled up around the block from Café Boheme in the Mission. The summer sun resisted dropping into the technicolor pink showcase that San Francisco sunsets were famous for, but the moon was winning on its climb higher, and the air was cooling by the minute. I saw the inviting lights of the café on my approach, and its welcome energy and slightly run down feeling looked like a perfect fit for Meredith.

I headed inside, and found her at the counter, ordering a lemon tea, her throat swaddled in a large crochet scarf. I hadn’t had time to call her about Thom, and wanted to give her fair warning, in case she had any hesitation about performing in front of him.

“Hi there!” she greeted me cheerfully, hugging me in her bulky scarf.

“Hey. It’s sweltering out. What’s with the wooly mammoth?” I asked, gesturing to the thick scarf. She laughed merrily at me.

“It’s to keep my throat warmed up before the performance. Same with the tea. Believe it or not, the voice is a sensitive instrument. You need to take care of it, as a performer,” she said, sipping the tea the barista handed her.

“Wow. I had no idea. Listen, I need to tell you something. Thom called me earlier in a panic. He needs to get away for the night. He’s not working, and begged me to let him tag along with me tonight. Do you mind if he joins me? I can always call him and cancel.”

“No, it’s totally fine. The more the merrier,” she said, shrugging.

“Great. He’ll be here soon. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, he hung up in such a rush.” I laughed in anticipation at his expression.

“Oh! That’s funny,” she replied, giving me a sly grin.

We found a table, and the MC soon got up and introduced the open-mic session. People had been signing up over the last half hour, so the list filled quickly. Thom came in during the MC’s introduction of the first person and glanced around the room, finally meeting my eyes in confusion. He slunk over and took a seat across from Meredith. She smiled silently at him, then turned back to the stage to give her attention.

Leaning over and whispering, he said, “You didn’t tell me Meredith would be here.”

“You didn’t ask,” I whispered back. “And of course she’s here. We are here to watch her perform. Now hush,” I commanded.

Thom looked slightly miserable, but Meredith shot us a silencing look. For such a tiny woman, she could be surprisingly fierce.

The man who was singing a sweet summer folk song was good, but he was so nervous, huge sweat pockets showed dark stains under his shirt. We clapped loudly when he finished, and Meredith stole off to the bathroom during the pause between performers. Thom yanked on my sleeve.

“What?” I asked, low.

“It’s just that Meredith was…she’s…I have a hard time…” he sounded strangled, wrestling with telling me something.

“What is the matter with you? Oh. Oh!” I stifled a laugh, shaking my head. I saw Meredith out of the corner of my eye, making her way back across towards our table.

“You like her, don’t you? Is that why your panties are all in a twist?” I whispered at Thom. He rolled his eyes at my reference to him having “panties”, but the truth in the rest was obvious in his eyes. He pleaded with me silently to help him.

Meredith was nearly back to the table.

“You got yourself into this mess. I won’t blow it, but I’m not helping you either,” I replied quickly, turning back to the stage, where a middle-aged pair of twins had taken the stage with a tambourine and maracas. It took all kinds, apparently.

Meredith joined us, oblivious to our hushed conversation and her effect on Thom. “These two are great, you are going to love them. So darling,” she indicated the twins, as she settled into her seat.

“Oh, this WHOLE night is very entertaining,” I said with emphasis. Thom shot me a warning look.

The twins were, as promised, totally adorable. They sang an old Mexican folk song called, “Besame Mucho” with real feeling. We all clapped enthusiastically when they sat down. Then the MC called Meredith’s name, and she shed her giant fuzzy scarf and made her way to the stage.

She settled and paused briefly, before going into a bluesy rendition of “Stormy Weather”, which contrasted the warm evening perfectly, raising goose bumps on my arm.

Thom and I were both transfixed.

I managed to look around me and saw that the entire room was frozen in her spell. Her gift really was remarkable, and I soaked up every second of her song. What a blessing!

Meredith concluded on a soft note and thanked us quietly, before we raised the roof, hooting and catcalling. She slid into her seat, quickly surrounded by questions, being pestered by people seated closest to us about a CD. She demurred, to give the same respect to the next singer, and the room struggled to compose itself for the next performance. I felt sorry for whoever was going next.

Surprisingly, the instrumental guitar player pulled me into the rhythm as easily as Meredith had pulled me into the cold and sad fantasy of her song. What a gold mine this open-mic night was!

After 15 minutes there was a small break, and Thom, Meredith and I headed outside for some air with dessert from the coffee bar.

I started in on gushing right away.

“Oh. MY God! That was so incredible. It was amazing! You should be on American Idol! You should win on American Idol! You should sing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl! No, never mind, that’s a terrible idea. Too much pressure. STILL! You know what I mean.” I finished with the last of my air, taking a gasping breath in. Meredith laughed and shook her head. I was acting like an idiot. I looked at Thom and gave him a nudging look.

“Oh! Hey. That was really. I mean, you did really. Good. Yeah. That was. You know. Good. Good. Great.” Thom breathed heavily through his nose, looking awkwardly down at the street. He obviously loved it too, but couldn’t seem to get the words out coherently. Meredith just stared at him a moment, giving him an opportunity to continue. Seeing he had no intention of continuing talking, she turned back to me.

“I really appreciate you coming out tonight. Thanks for cheering so hard, and listening to some of the others. I have to get up early, but please stay here and enjoy yourself.” She glanced over at Thom’s hunched frame. “And Thom?” He looked up at her, resigned. “Thanks for coming out.” She gave him an encouraging smile, and went in to get her purse.

I looked over, and he had a hound dog, hopeful look on his face. Sucker. She probably had no idea what she had just done.

“Come on. I need a drink.” I said.

¤ ¤ ¤

Lucky for us, it was the Mission. You couldn’t throw a hipster cat without hitting a happening bar. We ended up in a booth at Doc’s Clock, Thom with three shots of tequila in front of him (two empty, one still full) while I nursed a Last Word on the rocks.

Thom was regaling me with tales of his failure with women. Specifically, he was recounting his stumble with Meredith over. And over. And over again.

“I just can’t believe I couldn’t even tell her how AMAZING she was, you know? I mean, how hard is it to say, ‘Great job’?” He slumped over the bar, grabbed the last tequila shot, and knocked it back, setting the glass down gently on the counter. He signaled to the wait staff to bring him two more.

“Thom, you gotta stop beating yourself up about it. Meredith isn’t exactly intuitive about these things. She probably doesn’t even know you have feelings for her. She grew up with all those protective brothers; she had to learn to tune it all out. Besides, you can always tell her at work,” I said, reassuringly.

“NO I CAN’T!” he said, frustrated. He dropped back two more of the shots as the waitress left them for him. He brought me another Last Word, though it was clear I wasn’t getting one in the conversation.

“Work is not the right environment, and I never get time off like this! I blew it, that’s all. I blew it, it’s over. My chance with her is…” He sighed heavily.

My eyes were trying to focus on Thom, but things were starting to take on that beer goggle haze. I drank deeply from my glass, and decided to put Thom out of his misery.

“Thom? Hey, Thom.” I said, since he was distracted watching a large group of women come in.

“Huh? What?” He leaned close to me. His eyes were staring straight into mine, and even in this light, they were very, very sexy.

“Listen. I wasn’t going to tell you about this, and you have to keep this under your hat, ok? Don’t say an.ee.thING.” I punctuated each syllable with a poke on his forehead. He was grinning at me, but nodding yes. He was also staring at my mouth, waiting for what I was going to tell him.

“I’m pretty sure. Don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure Meredith. Is a…” I trailed off, lost in gazing at Thom’s lips.

“She’s a whaaaa?” he prompted slowly.

Whispering, I leaned in, “ a virgin.” I could almost taste that heavenly bakery smell rolling off of him. God, I could take a bath in that scent. What was happening to me?

“Oh, well. Hmm. I was hoping for something a bit more..imm-ediate-“ He broke off, playing with my hair. MY HAIR. Oh my goodness, this was happening. This was happening, right now. I worked with Thom! My brain was screaming at me.

Thom leaned in further, and kissed me gently on the lips. And just like that, a neon Fuck it! went off in my brain, and I kissed him back.

¤ ¤ ¤

Thom and I spent the next 30 minutes having a very interesting conversation. Most of it involved trying to cut off each other’s oxygen flow with a passionate mashing of tongues, punctuated by justifications of “It’s just tonight” from each of us, a couple of “Don’t tell Merediths”, and of course, “I just need someone to” which usually got interrupted by whatever that sentence’s ending was supposed to be. We threw down some bills and decided to head to my car to continue. On the way to my car, stumbling, he said, “I didn’t expect this. Like, at all.”

“Yeah, me neither. Like, at all.”

We arrived at my car, and I beeped the doors open. Thom climbed in, and we immediately resumed our kissing. But the walk had sobered both of us about the implications, despite our excuses, and we ended up pulling away from each other. Silence fell for a few minutes, and Thom cleared his throat.

“This is a nice car.”

“Thanks.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was just upset about Meredith and I—“

“Yeah, Thom, I know. I was there.” I sighed, turning to face him. “Listen, I get it. Really. I’ve been in a space where I need to take my mind off things too. But I think this was a mistake…Do you agree?” I was still a little too tipsy to look at him, and he wasn’t looking at me either, but I saw him nod in agreement.

“So, we’ll just pretend this didn’t happen, and be friends.”

“Right. Friends,” he mumbled.

We both took a deep breath together, letting it out at the same time. We chuckled about that for a minute, and the tension was broken. Just like that.

“Hey, are you going to be ok to get home?” I asked him. “You’ve had a lot more than me.”

“Naw…I’ll take a taxi. Safer,” he replied, grabbing his coat from the floor.

“Okay… well. I guess… I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stole a glance, and gave me a reassuring smile. A real one. For just a moment, I could see him happy, and my heart hurt that he still hadn’t found it.

“Goodnight,” I said, keeping my thoughts to myself. Too sappy. He wouldn’t want to hear that. I started my car, watching him lope up the street.

I figured I’d had enough adventure for one night.