A/N: I've re-posted this chapter after being introduced to Project Team Beta. They are wonderful! A special thanks to NinaQ, 4mejasper, and TDS88 for editing this chapter.
The Spa
Chapter Two: An Angry Rose Ain't Pretty
I am really beginning to enjoy the aerobics classes, but my life is a whirlwind. When I get home, I cook dinner, make sure that the kids do their homework, put on my workout clothes and rush to the spa. That is my ritual. Rose is an amazing instructor. She always comes to class raring to go. She is so enthusiastic and so supportive, and she has wonderful taste in music. Her eclectic collection, which I love, consists of R&B, rap, pop, rock and jazz. Leah, Alice and I fit right in with the regulars in the class, who Rose refers to as her posse. I am even able to finish the class!
The Housewives of Beverly Hills, who we now refer to as the BH girls, chat and complain during class. They complain about the music, the pace of the class, the temperature in the room, you name it…they complain about it. Sam was being her usual bitchy self—that is until Rose had enough. It was a sight to behold.
We were in the middle of class when, out of the blue, we hear the most annoying ringtone I'd ever heard. Of course, it would belong to Sam. She stopped and went to the back of the room and answered her cell phone. Can you believe her…she just started a conversation in the middle of the class! You'd think she'd have had enough sense to step outside, but no…she just stood there competing with "When I Grow Up" by the Pussy Cat Dolls. She was really pissing us all off, because it's a really good song, and she was messing up our groove.
"Sam, could you please take that outside?" Rose asked.
Sam glared at Rose as if she had asked her to cut off her finger and continued her conversation. It was obvious that she was doing this to irk Rose. Why else would anyone try to hold a conversation in an aerobics class with the music blaring?
The person on the other end of the line must have asked her if it was a bad time because Sam said, "No, it's not a bad time, just some bimbo speaking. Anyway, I'm meeting Tanya and Kate for dinner tonight. They are in town for the big wedding—you know the one that is so hush hush? Well you didn't hear it from me, but in a few months, we'll be seeing a lot more of her…if you know what I mean," she said with a smirk.
Suddenly, the music stopped. Rose, still wearing the mic, said, "Since you insist on competing with PCD, you win! We'll just listen to you. Is that all right with you guys?" she asked the class before turning her attention back on Sam.
We all followed suit and looked at her as well. Realizing that all eyes were on her, Sam slammed her phone shut.
She looked at Rose and asked, "What the hell is your problem?"
Rose replied so calmly that it scared me. "I was wondering the same thing about you."
I got an eerie feeling that this was the calm before the storm. I looked at Leah, who was surprisingly quiet during all of this. Any other time, Leah would have handled the situation. The phone would have been smashed to pieces, and so would Sam for that matter, but that didn't happen. Instead, Leah shrugged her shoulders and muttered, "Oh shit."
Rose walked toward Sam while continuing to speak. "I was also wondering if maybe you were dropped on your head as a child, or maybe shaken until something broke loose in that head of yours, or maybe you are just a stupid bitch!"
I was right—calm before the storm—or more like a hurricane. Sam was dumbfounded. She opened her mouth to speak, and I found myself wanting to cover it with my hand because I knew if she said anything to Rose but "I'm sorry" she was in for it.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Sam spat.
Rose responded fiercely, "I'm the bimbo who's gonna kick your ass if you don't get the fuck out of my class."
"What…" Sam said as she made a failed attempt to get her words out but was cut short because Rose was now standing so close that Sam would probably smell her breath if Rose didn't tower over her by a few inches,
"You heard me…get the fuck out!" Rose spat, as she looked down at Sam.
Sam looked around the room taking in the expressions of everyone there. She took a step back from Rose, knowing that we were all in agreement with her. She slowly backed out of the room, which was a good thing, because if she had been going any faster, she would have really hurt herself when she backed into the door. She reached behind her back for the knob and backed out. As terrified as she looked, I was sure she ran once she was out of the room. When we heard the click of the door closing, the room erupted in laughter, applause and high fives for Rose.
Rose walked to the front of the room and smiled as she put her hands up motioning for everyone to calm down. She said, "Now that we got rid of the Riff-raff, I have something I need to say to you all. I know that there are some of you who don't particularly like my class, and that's fine. But it's unfair of you to come here disrupting the class with your comments, especially when you don't have to be here. If you have constructive criticism, suggestions regarding the music or whatever, I am willing to listen. What I will not tolerate is you taking up class time to complain and distract those who are serious about working out.
"If you are that miserable, find another class to go to. This is serious to me, and I know that it's serious to many of you. You all are here for different reasons. Whatever those reasons are, I want to help in any way I can to make sure you're successful. For those of you who don't feel that way, you have two options: find another class, or keep your comments to yourself. For my posse, thank you for supporting me. I love hanging with you, and I think it's great that we can work hard and have fun at the same time. I'm sure you would agree that since we've gotten rid of some of the crap, it'll be even better. So, in the words of Jermaine Jackson, 'Let's Get Serious'!" The music started up again, and we had the best class ever!
After that, things got even better…no more Sam! Although, she did run to daddy to tell him what had happened…spoiled brat! Apparently her daddy is Mr. Money Bags whose company has a major contract with the spa. We were afraid for Rose, and for ourselves, that they'd fire her. It just wouldn't be the same without her. However, none of this seemed to faze Rose…maybe she knew something we didn't. Our fears were soon squashed when management gave Rose their full support. This may have had something to do with the fact that several of the members went to the front office to tell them what happened and complained about Sam being a nuisance in class. We also told them that if Rose leaves, we'd be right behind her. You can only imagine who spearheaded that campaign.
A month later
I arrive at the spa a little earlier than usual. I didn't take lunch, so I manage to get out of the office an hour early. I cooked a pan of lasagna last night and left instructions for Alex to warm it for dinner. Tiff will be attending an orientation meeting to volunteer at the local animal shelter, so I'll pick her up after my aerobics class.
I make it a point to stretch a little before class because one time I didn't and could hardly get out of bed the next morning. After a while, Alice and Leah join me, and we continue our stretching while catching up on the latest things happening in our lives. Not only is this good for me in terms of my getting in shape—I've lost five pounds already—but it also allows me to spend time with my friends and make new ones. Lately, our lives have been so busy that we haven't had a chance to spend any real time together.
Alice loves all things design: fashion design, interior design, you name it. She has such a great eye and can make something beautiful out of the most hideous things. She and Jasper have a wonderful relationship and still, after fifteen years of marriage, absolutely adore each other. Thus, when she has spare time, it's not me or Leah that she wants to spend time with, and understandably so, but I miss my friend. We talk on the phone and text and usually get together on holidays, but I'd love to spend more time with her. With our work schedules and our families, it is just hard to find the time. Alice and Jasper have twin boys, Jason and Jackson, who are 12 years old. Fortunately for all of us, she has a nanny to help with the boys. Otherwise, we'd never get to see her.
Leah, on the other hand, is single and doesn't have children, but I see her even less. Leah is a workaholic. She owns a garage where she works full-time restoring old—oops, I mean "classic" cars—she'd kick my butt if she heard that. She also volunteers at the Native American Youth Outreach Center, where she spends a lot of time working with kids from the community. Although the center's primary focus is Native American youth, no one is ever turned away, and Leah is great with them. She is hard-nosed, and she doesn't take any shit from anybody, but she, like Alice, has a heart of gold. Just don't get on her bad side because she's like the Incredible Hulk… you won't like her when she's angry.
Our spa time gives us the chance to spend some quality time together, and it's been great. Getting to know Rose, and her becoming a part of our group, is an added bonus. We're having such a good time that we don't notice the room is now full, and it is time for class to begin. I look up just as Rose charges into the room like a woman on a mission. I open my mouth to say "hi," but something, be it intuition or divine intervention, tells me to shut it. Usually, she greets the class and chats with us for a few minutes before gently easing us into our workout, but not today. She walks directly to the cabinet that houses the music equipment and puts on the headset with the microphone.
Everyone notices that something is wrong because all talking ceases…well almost; only two words are spoken, "Oh shit!" courtesy of Leah. We look at one another, shrugging our shoulders, clueless as to what is going on. We are, however, sure of two things: Rose is pissed off about something, and we are all going to suffer because of it.
The music starts, and Rose faces the class and says coldly, "Let's get started"...and we do.
Rose leads the class from the front of the room the entire hour without missing a beat. She usually makes her way around the room, correcting positions and playing around while instructing the class. That's one of the things I love about her class. She has a way of reeling us in and making us forget that we are a bunch of tired, sweaty messes. But this day, she is a drill sergeant.
Leah is a little hung over from the night before, so needless to say, she is having a hard time keeping up. She finally waves her hand and says, "To hell with this, I'll see you in the locker room," and staggers out of the room. If Rose keeps up this pace, I'll be right behind Leah.
I am barely moving my feet, panting like a dog, and sweating like a pig. I am so deliriously tired that my mind wanders off to the land R&R, and I don't mean rest and relaxation. I'm talking about the land of the random and ridiculous, where thoughts enter my head like: Why do people say "sweating like a pig" when pigs don't sweat? Or, if it's nacho cheese, then whose cheese is it?
Anyway, as I come to, I realize that I am not the only one in a fatigue-induced comatose state. Out of a class of about forty people, most of which are on the verge of collapsing, two look as if they are possessed by the Energizer Bunny—Rose and Alice. Half Pint is having a ball keeping up with Rose! She could have done us all a favor and at least faked being tired; maybe Rose would have had mercy on us—But no! I thank God when the music stops and I am able to catch my breath!
Class doesn't end with applause and high fives this day because it takes all the energy we have to walk out of there. All she gets from us is heavy breathing, moaning and groaning and maybe a slight wave as we wobble out. Rose looks around the room, clueless, as if saying, "What?"
Is she for real? Is she totally oblivious to the fact that she almost committed a mass murder in here? She just dismisses it with a shrug and turns around to place the headset back in the cabinet. I contemplate going to ask if she's okay, but quite frankly, the woman scares me!
Finally, I woman up and start walking toward her when suddenly a man, an absolutely gorgeous man, sneaks up behind her and whispers something in her ear. She appears startled at first, and I think, this guy better have some mad dodging skills because she is going to slap the shit out of him, but when she turns around, I can tell that she knows him and for the first time today, I see her smile.
I can't hear their conversation, but she says something excitedly as she slaps his arm, and he embraces her lifting her off the ground. They stand there talking, so I decide not to intrude.
As I make my way to the locker room, a million questions enter my mind like: Who is that guy? Are they together? Where did they meet? When did Rose start dating white guys? Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with interracial relationships. I mean my family is like the Rainbow Coalition. Jake is Native American, Black and White, I'm White, my sister is Native American, my mother is crazy (now that's a whole other story), and that makes my kids …well, it makes them a plethora of things. But I find myself wondering about the dynamics of their relationship.
In the short time that I've known Rose, we've talked about a lot of things, including relationships. I've shared with her my horror story about my marriage, and she's shared some of her own about dating, or lack thereof. I remember one conversation in particular when she shared a very hurtful experience she had when her roommate tried to fix Rose up with her brother.
"It's hard to find a good man who's not out to get in my panties. I've given brothers many chances, but they've always managed to disappoint me. A few guys of other ethnic groups have approached me, but to be honest, I don't know how I feel about dating outside my race. I've only dated black guys because, for one, I love black men, and secondly, we have that in common. They understand what it's like to be black, and the challenges we have to face because of our race. Believe it or not, there are a lot of people in this world who still have that backward way of thinking. It's hard enough getting to know someone, but to add other variables like race and religion to the equation… I don't know if I want to put forth the energy. It's not my place to discourage anyone from dating whoever they want to date, but I've just never done it and don't know if I want to. I'd probably have trust issues anyway, especially with white guys. I had a very bad experience that left a scar.
"When I was in college, I had a white roommate, Linda. She wasn't the first white person that I spent time with, but I was her first black friend. She was very curious and had a lot of questions, all of which I entertained. It was a learning experience for both of us, and she was genuinely interested in learning about our differences. For instance, she was amazed at how many ways I could wear my hair. The texture of black hair varies from afro to bone straight and many styles in-between, and asked to touch it every time I changed hairstyles. I had no problem with it because she was genuinely interested…in fact, we both were. I was amazed that she could wash her hair and walk out in freezing cold weather and not catch a cold. If I'd done that, I'd have pneumonia…well at least a bad cold. I don't care what research says about how people catch colds, for me, wet hair plus freezing cold weather equals common cold.
"Anyway, we spent a lot of time together, learning about each other's culture, colloquialisms, and traditions. We learned to understand one another and became very good friends. We both realized that we had far more similarities than we had differences. We met each other's parents and were both practically adopted as members of each other's family; however, when she introduced me to her brother—that was a different story.
"Unbeknownst to me, she had planned to introduce us because she thought we would hit it off. He was in on it, but she apparently forgot to share one minor detail with him—that I was black. We were at a gathering at her parent's house, celebrating his graduation from Yale and his acceptance to Yale Law School. Linda and I were chatting with her parents when her brother, Marcus, walked into the room. I knew this because of the ringing in my ear when she screamed his name. She ran to him, almost knocking him down, grabbed his hand and dragged him over to where we were standing.
"He hugged his parents and said a few words to them. I remember thinking how handsome he was, and he had a beautiful smile…that is until he looked at me. It was like I was Medusa or something because he took one look at me, and his face turned to stone. I mean his whole demeanor changed, and he couldn't get away from me fast enough! Linda introduced us and he barely got out, "hi," before he turned and ran off. I thought, what the hell was that all about? I later found out what Linda had in mind when she introduced us. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the old 'want to meet your roommate—but find out that she's black—so I get the hell out of dodge' trick.
"I could tell how bad Linda felt, and I knew that their parents were upset with Marcus for his behavior, so I blew it off and told her that it was no big deal, but deep down I was hurt and embarrassed. He just dismissed me like I was nothing. Needless to say, Linda never tried to set me up again, and I pretty much swore off dating white guys. It's amazing that people from the same household, raised by the same wonderful parents, can be so different in their way of thinking. I guess he didn't get the tolerance gene."
I was in tears as I listened to Rose's hurtful recollection. When I tried to reassure her that he was just a jerk, and that any man would be lucky to be with her, she just dismissed it and said that it was a long time ago and that she was over it. I can't help but wonder if she is still trying to hide that it hurt her very deeply. I find it hard to believe a woman as beautiful and kind as Rose has never found a man, regardless of his race, that she'd even consider settling down with. My goodness, if it's that hard for her, is there any hope of a second chance for me?
Getting to know Rose has been great. I've learned that there's more to her than what appears on the surface, which makes her all the more endearing. She's intelligent, caring, and gives of herself so freely. Rose works as a psychologist, but she also donates a lot of her time volunteering for an organization called ABC, A Better Chance. She works with girls, encouraging them to be independent, self sufficient, respectful young ladies. She conducts seminars that address the importance of education, physical fitness, hygiene, abstinence and safe sex. She also provides family counseling free of charge to families that cannot afford it.
Because she's attractive, one would assume she has a lot of prospects, but that's not the case. She says her best friend, who happens to be a guy, tells her that a lot of men are intimidated by strong, independent woman. They're either insecure, or they don't think they have a chance. Therefore, they don't try. Rather than spending a lot of time trying to figure them out, she works on making herself happy, which she says, may or may not include battery-operated devices. She also has an incredible sense of humor.
One night we were discussing having children, and all of a sudden she blurted out in a strong New York accent, while stomping her foot, "My biological clock is tickin' like this, and the way this is goin', I ain't never gettin' married!" I recognize the line immediately from My Cousin Vinny; you know…the one when Marisa Tomei is talking about her biological clock? I guess you'll have to see the movie. Anyway, we laughed so hard! It amazes me how quick she is. One word and it prompts her to come up with a line from a movie or a song. It's a little strange that I find myself picking up the habit as well.
If she's not working, teaching class or doing her volunteer thing, she's usually at home watching movies or I Love Lucy, which is something we discovered we have in common. We both happen to be I Love Lucy fanatics. She is the only other person I've met who knows the lyrics to the show's theme song…now, how's that for accomplished? We've shared so much, which is why I find it strange that she's never mentioned Mr. Good Looking, because they're obviously very close.
I know he's not one of the regulars because I definitely would have noticed him before now, but it's obvious that he's a regular somewhere—with a body like that. Apparently, he was in our class today because, like the rest of us, he is a sweaty mess, albeit, a beautiful sweaty mess. The way his T-shirt clings to his lean muscular form, giving a glimpse of what he has under there, makes me want to rip it off. His arms and legs are muscular and toned, not too big, but just right. His body is… "What the hell am I doing?" I think, as I slap myself out of my stupor. I really need to get some rest, among other things, because I'm losing it. I don't usually go around drooling over men, especially when they're unavailable. I have not reacted like this to a man in a very long time—not since Jacob.
Jacob, my ex-husband, is a very handsome man. I met him my freshman year at college. I remember like it was yesterday...
I walked into the classroom with a bewildered look on my face, you know, the typical freshman look. This was a new experience for me. This was my first time being away from home, in a new place, with new people. It was pretty scary. I felt like all eyes were on me, so I took the first available seat. I was too busy pulling the things I needed from my backpack that I didn't look up to see the person sitting next to me.
I heard a deep voice come from the seat next to me say, "Hello." I looked up at this guy who took my breath away.
I finally found my voice and said, "Hello." The smirk on his face let me know that he realized the effect he had on me.
"I'm Jacob Black," he said as he looked at me, waiting for a response.
"I'm Isabella…Bella Swan," I responded nervously.
"Well, Isabella Bella Swan, I figured that since we are going to be sitting next to each other, I should at least know your name." He said as he flashed a big smile showing a set of beautiful white teeth. He was gorgeous.
Over the course of the semester, we got to know each other. We became lab partners, and we worked well together. We were in study groups together, and he would walk me to my dorm after the sessions. He also lived in the dorms, but on the other side of campus.
One night, after our study group, he invited me to get a bite to eat. I was starving, so I agreed to go. We went to a restaurant off-campus and had dinner. We talked for hours about everything. He told me about his family, how his mother was Native American and that his dad was African American. He told me that his mother and father had been married for twenty years, and how they sacrificed to send him to college, and his goal was to make them proud. He told me about his girlfriend back home and how they decided to take a break when they went their separate ways to college.
He talked about the girls on campus and how forward they were. Apparently they were throwing themselves at him, which under different circumstances would have been okay, but he didn't need the distraction right now.
I thought to myself, this is great! Here's a guy who I can study with, talk to about anything, and just hang out with, without the idea of sex coming into the picture, because that idea scared the crap out of me. I told my dad, Charlie, about Jacob. I thought that having a best friend and protector all rolled into one would make him feel better about me being away from home. Of course, my father, being the Chief of Police in my hometown, wanted to do a security check on him. He actually told me about some pickpocketing techniques so that I could lift Jacob's wallet. He said that it was for a good cause—me, and that all he needed was a Driver's License number and he would know Jake's life story. Of course, I refused.
In the time that I'd known Jacob, he'd been a perfect gentleman. Anyway, I was sure that he wasn't interested in anything other than friendship, especially with all the hotsy-totsies parading around, leaving nothing to the imagination. I was somewhat plain, reserved, and very inexperienced, but like Jacob, I knew what I was there to do, and it wasn't to snag a man. If he had shown me some attention, I probably would have run for the hills. When I say that I had no experience, I mean none, nada, zilch...you get the picture.
The next year, I was a sophomore and Jacob was a junior; we were the best of friends. In fact, we did everything together…except, you know. I could tell that things were changing a little because Jacob started going out on dates. When he did, I was usually left alone. I found myself wondering about his dates, if he took them somewhere romantic, what they did. I knew that it was more than just talking, because I noticed bruises on his neck a few times. We used to call them hickies or monkey bites, but they certainly weren't from a monkey. I knew that much at least. I wondered who got the best of whom and if she walked away with battle scars too. Well if she did, at least she had fun fighting. I, on the other hand, had not even gone to boot camp. A few guys showed interest in me, but I usually found a polite way of turning them down.
One day, I was approached by a guy in class who invited me to join him and a group of students who were going out to an open mic night. I didn't have any plans, so I decided to go. I hadn't done much but study since I'd been here, and I loved music, so I figured why not? I actually found myself looking forward to it. He offered to pick me up, and I agreed since I'd been in class with him all semester. I figured that he wouldn't try anything, plus hanging out with Jake has its advantages...he could be quite intimidating.
Well anyway, my date, if you can call him that, arrived right on time. The fact that we'd be with a group of people made me feel more comfortable about the whole thing. Alice was my roommate and best friend. When I wasn't with Jake, which was rare, I was with her. When I told her about my plans, she insisted on helping me get ready. Alice decided, against my better judgment, that I would wear my hair curled.
As she was curling, what seemed like a strand at a time, she began talking, "Bella, I'm so glad to see you going out and having fun for a change. All you do is study or hang out with Jake, and we know there's no action going on there. You work so hard to make good grades, but you need to take a break every once in a while and have fun—you know, embrace the whole college experience."
I replied, "Alice, I am embracing the college experience. I go out and do things!"
"Yeah right!" she retorted, "with Jake…when he's around. He goes out and has a good time, but what about you? When he's out with the honeys, you're left alone with the…Nutra Sweet!"
"Alice that was bad," I said at her corny remark.
"I know, sue me—but you know what I mean! I'm just saying there's nothing wrong with you going out on a date every once in a while. Who knows, if Jake sees you going out, maybe he'll realize how much he cares about you."
"Of course he cares about me, Alice. He's my other best friend!" I said.
"Yea, he's your best friend, but it'd be even better if he was your best friend with benefits, if you know what I mean," she suggested, waggling her eyebrows
"Alice! It's not like that with Jake. We're just…" I started to explain before I was cut off.
"Bella, don't give me that load of crap. I think both of you need to get your heads out of your asses and smell the fresh air," she said, rolling her eyes while curling the last few strands of my hair.
I had to admit that she did a good job, and I loved the outfit that she picked out for me. She's such a diva and has impeccable taste. It looked better than anything I could have come up with.
We were putting the finishing touches on my outfit, makeup and spraying perfume when we heard a knock on the door. It was a race to the door, with Alice in the lead, but I managed to grab her shirt and pull her back. Thank God, she only weighed five pounds.
"It's my date. I'll get the door!" I exclaimed.
"Okay, you party pooper. I just wanted him to know that you have a roommate, and if he tried anything, I'd know what he looked like," she said as she made her way back to the living room.
I answered the door and made introductions, "Alice, this is Chris. Chris, this is my roommate Alice."
Chris walked up to Alice with his hand extended, saying, "It's nice to meet you, Alice."
"Same here," Alice replied. "What time should I expect her home?"
I looked at her and laughed in her face as I said, "Bye, Alice."
Chris told her how nice it was to meet her, and we walked out.
Even with all the commotion, I couldn't help but notice the way Chris looked at me. I never really paid attention, but he was good looking, and the way that he looked at me gave me the impression that he was thinking the same about me, which made me feel a little nervous. As he opened the door, he confirmed my suspicion when he told me how nice I looked, which was a first for me. It kind of gave me goose bumps.
We drove to the bar in no time, and he opened my door and helped me out of the car. He grabbed his guitar from the trunk, and we walked into the bar to meet up with the rest of our group who had already been seated at a table. They waved at us to get our attention as we walked in. It turns out that every Friday night was open mic night for college students, and there was no liquor served during that time. I did notice, however, that a few members of our group brought their own which they mixed with their soft drinks. I didn't drink, so I passed and Chris followed suit.
We sat around the table, talking and laughing. I was having a good time. I looked around the room and found that there was standing room only. I turned to Chris and said, "Wow, that was quick. Ten minutes ago, there was hardly anyone here but us, and now it's packed."
"I know. It's always like this on Friday nights," he replied.
"Are you nervous?" I asked him.
"No, I rarely get nervous anymore. Do you sing, Bella?" he asked me.
"A little, but mostly in the shower," I said jokingly.
"Would you like to sing a duet with me?" he asked, practically knocking me out of my seat.
"Um, I don't think so…we haven't even rehearsed!" I said nervously.
"Calm down, Bella. I was only half-serious. I'll let you off the hook this time, but next time we sing together," he said, pointing his finger at me.
"We'll see," I said just to pacify him.
Chris excused himself to go warm up, and I wished him luck. Sandy, who I knew from my Statistics study group, leaned over to me and said, "Hey Bella, you sure you don't want a drink?"
I replied, "No, I'm okay."
She rephrased her question in the form of a statement. "Bella, you might want to have a drink."
I replied again, "Sandy, I'm okay. I don't want a drink." trying not to sound annoyed, which I was becoming.
She leaned closer and said finally, "Bella, you're going to need a drink for this!"
"Why?" I asked, annoyed at this point.
"Because, Chris sings like a wounded moose," she said. "We come to support him because he's our friend, but after the first time, we learned to come prepared. A few drinks make anyone sound good," she said.
"Is he that bad?" I asked, feeling so bad for him.
She replied, "No, he plays the guitar beautifully, but when he opens his mouth to sing, it shoots his guitar playing straight to hell."
"Why haven't any of you told him the truth? I know it'd be hard, but it's better than letting him embarrass himself," I said, questioning their friendship.
"We tried," she replied. "But he's overly and unsubstantially confident. He really believes he can sing!"
"Wow! He asked me to sing with him next time," I said.
Sandy replied, "Whatever you do…don't!"
Just then, the Emcee started the show. First up was a girl I'd seen around campus. She always looked like she was on an LSD trip or something. I was surprised when the Emcee introduced her as Audrey Sharpton. I would have thought her name was something like Moon Beam or Flower Child. Surprisingly, when she opened her mouth, the most beautiful voice came out. I certainly didn't expect that.
Chris was up next, and I could see what Sandy meant—the way he walked on stage with such confidence. He sat down on a stool, placed his guitar on his lap, and greeted the audience like he'd been doing this all his life… such stage presence! Chris played the long introduction of the song with such dexterity, and he did play beautifully. Anyone who played that well, I thought, had to at least be able to carry a tune. I hoped, for his sake, that Sandy was exaggerating, but I shortly realized that all hope was lost.
When he started to sing, my jaw dropped to the floor, and I clutched the seat of my chair so as not to fall off. I was totally dumbfounded. I couldn't even tell you the song he was singing because my musical sense went flying out the window, but I can tell you he hit notes that I didn't know existed.
I looked over at Charlotte, who seemed to be enjoying it, smiling and bobbing her head to the music. I wondered which one of us had the hearing problem…that is until I realized that she was bobbing to a completely different tempo. As I looked closer, I noticed that she had ear buds in her ears with the wiring going down her back. They came prepared all right…with massive amounts of alcohol, iPods and I think I saw Wayne putting plugs in his ears. I started to regret refusing that drink.
When Chris finished, the crowd stood and applauded, mainly because he had finished. When he came back to the table, everyone gave him hugs and compliments. I had to think fast for something to say that would circumvent him asking my opinion of his performance.
"Chris, you are so talented and you play beautifully!" I said, hoping that did the trick.
"Thank you," he replied with a smile as big as Texas.
Somebody really needs to tell this guy that his singing sucks, but with the confidence he had on stage, he wouldn't believe it anyway. He'd probably be the one to get a major record deal.
"They still have a few slots open, you sure you don't want to sing a song with me?" he asked excitedly.
"No, we haven't rehearsed. Plus, I wouldn't do you justice," I replied to get him off my back.
I was actually a pretty good singer. I sang in the choir at church and in an ensemble on campus, but I wasn't going to tell him that.
The show lasted about two hours, and the rest of the acts were really good. We really had a good time after Chris's performance. He was a funny guy and the life of the party. He had us all in stitches until he started to criticize the other acts. What's that saying… the pot calling the kettle black?
We got back to my dorm at about 11:00. He walked me to my door, and as I turned to put the key in the lock, he broke out in a rendition of the "Good Night Song". I closed my eyes really tight in hopes that it would also shut off my hearing. I slowly turned the key so I wouldn't have to look at him before he finished.
Just then, the door swung open, and Jake yelled, "What the hell…"
Before he could get the rest of his question out, I gave him the stink eye.
"Hey Bells," he said.
"Hey Jake, what are you doing here?" I asked him, glad that he caught on.
"I just dropped by. Alice and I were about to watch a movie when we heard that um...singing," he said.
"Chris, this is my friend, Jake. Jake, this is Chris," I said very quickly. I was trying to boot him out, but I didn't want to be rude. "Chris performed at open mic tonight. It was a great show!"
Chris added, "Yeah, I told Bella that she has to sing with me next time."
"Bella sing? Good luck with that," Jake replied, walking back inside.
I looked at him, wondering what the hell he meant by that. He's never even heard me sing, but I would address that later. My main concern right now was getting rid of the wedding singer. I walked inside and turned to face him.
"Thank you, Chris, I had a great time," I said.
"Me too," he replied.
We stood there for an awkward few minutes when I just said, "Well goodnight…I guess I'll see you in class." I said, as I started to close the door.
He moved his hand to stop it from closing and asked," Bella, can I call you sometime?"
Before I could think of an excuse, my mouth betrayed me and said, "Sure, you have my number."
I really have to learn to think fast on my feet. Well, I did have fun with him, when he wasn't singing. I guess I could do it again. We said our goodbyes, and I waited until he got on the elevator, before I closed the door and walked into the living room. I looked at Alice and Jake who looked as if they were about to burst. As if waiting for permission, I said, "okay" and they both let it out at the same time. They were laughing so hard that they were in tears. It was contagious because I found myself cracking up with them. Jake managed to get out through his laughter, "I heard that horrible noise outside the door, and I thought, what the hell is that, some kind of animal? Then I open the door and find you crossing your eyes. That shit was funny! Did he sound like that at open mic?"
I looked at him with raised eyebrows and a grimace saying, "Worse." They were both rolling on the floor now in gut-busting laughter.
"How did you stand it?" Alice managed to get out through her laughter.
"It wasn't easy," I replied. "The others knew what to expect so they were prepared. I, on the other hand, had to grin and bear it. Well, at least I can say that my first date was eventful," I said.
"Date?" Jake exclaimed. "You were on a date with that clown?"
"Yes," I said. "He asked me out, picked me up, paid for everything, and walked me to my door. I'd say that would classify as a date. Wouldn't you?" I asked in a sarcastic tone.
"I guess so," he replied solemnly.
"What are you doing here anyway? I thought you had a date tonight," I said.
"I did, but it ended early, so I came to hang out with you. I thought we'd watch a movie, but I wasn't expecting a concert. Was he serenading you?" he asked.
"I guess, if you could call it that," I said
"Yeah, I leave you alone for one night and the wolves descend—and I mean howling wolves," he chuckled.
"Ha ha, very funny. I'm sort of glad that you opened the door when you did. I was hoping he wasn't expecting a good night kiss," I said.
"Yeah, it is a good thing," said Alice. "He probably would have broken out with 'This Kiss This Kiss, It's Criminal'." She laughed as she sang the lyrics to Faith Hill's song.
"Okay, okay, enough of the Chris jokes. What movie did you guys watch?" I asked, sitting down next to Jake, who was staring at me with an expression that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
"Are you alright?" I asked him.
"I'm fine. You just look …different."
"Different? In what way?" I asked, confused.
"Different in a good way. You look very pretty," he said.
I was probably going to have my jaw wired because that was the second time tonight that it had fallen to the floor.
"I'm going to get a snack, do you want anything?" he asked as he went into the kitchen.
"No thanks," I said, taking advantage of his absence to stretch my legs out the length of the sofa.
Alice, still on the floor from rolling around earlier, sat up with her back against the sofa. When Jake came back, he lifted my legs, sat down and placed them on his lap. This, although not very intimate, was the closest that Jake and I had ever been. Sure we hugged and played around as friends, but this felt different. I tried not to make it obvious, but my breathing sped up. I avoided looking at him, but I would catch him staring at me in my peripheral vision. I was feeling things that confused me, but I didn't know how, or if, I should react to them, so I just laid there. As the movie progressed and my eyelids started to get heavy, I curled into a ball, my usual sleeping position, and fell asleep.
When I woke up, Jake and I were still on the sofa. He was lying behind me with his arm draped over me. As I laid there trying to figure out how we got in this position, I felt something hard pressing against my butt. When I realized what it was, my first instinct was to jump up, but thank God I had the wherewithal to keep calm and slither out from under his arm without waking him. I didn't want to be embarrassed nor did I want things to start feeling weird between us. I stood up and realized that he was still sound asleep.
Alice must have gotten up and gone to bed, but I wondered if she saw how Jake and I slept last night. I could just picture her with this huge grin on her face as she woke up and saw us lying there together. In fact, she probably would have positioned us that way and taken a picture if she thought she could get away with it without waking us. She's always felt that Jake and I should be together. All I knew is that I was confused, but I would never let him know. That was the night that things changed between Jacob and me.
Anyway, I'll have to discuss today's events with Rose when we get together Saturday night. She Leah, Alice and I made plans to go to a Karaoke bar. That's where Leah went the night before the killer class, and she said that it was so much fun. Maybe she'll give us the 411 on Mr. Good- Looking.
Rose's POV
My morning didn't go as planned. First of all, my alarm didn't go off, or at least I didn't hear it because the volume was turned down low. How that happened, I don't know, but it made me late for work. And if I weren't late enough, my car was on "E" and I had to stop and get gas. My father always told me, "Never let my car go below half a tank. You never know when an emergency might happen." Well, he was right.
I have an appointment with a new client; a young man whose parents are going through a rough divorce that he is having a hard time accepting. As I stand up from my desk to grab his file, I hit my leg on the drawer of the file cabinet, which I forgot to close. "Another ten bucks down the drain," I think as I look down at my pinstriped pantyhose. I think they design them to run after only one wear.
I go to the waiting room to escort the young man and his parents into my office, but I'm greeted with mixed responses. The father stands to shake my hand and introduces himself. He doesn't appear to be affected by their circumstances. In fact, he looks like he wants to yell for the world to hear, 'I'm free!' The mother, conversely, looks at me like I'm her worst enemy. I could tell immediately who initiated this divorce. Her behavior is not uncommon, however. Until she comes to terms with the divorce, every woman, especially attractive women that she and her husband come in contact with, will get the cold shoulder from her. I'll just have to deal with her attitude until it becomes clear to her that their son is my primary concern, which usually takes a few sessions. I have to give her credit for putting her son's best interest ahead of the issues between herself and her ex-husband. It's got to be difficult, especially when she is obviously taking it much harder than he.
We finish our session, and as I walk back into my office, Lillian, our Office Assistant, buzzes me, letting me know that I have a call.
"Ms. Hale, Craig is on line one," she says, "and if he looks as good as he sounds …Watch out! I might just steal him from you!" she says with a chuckle.
I met Craig a few months ago while volunteering at a youth conference. Since then, he's asked me out a few times, but I am always so busy. I finally gave in and accepted last week, and we've spoken every day since. He seems to be a very nice guy, and we have quite a bit in common, like the fact that we both work with youth groups and we work in similar fields. He is a high school counselor.
We talked on the phone for an hour last night, and he told me that he'd call me this morning to finalize the plans of our date. OMG, could it be that I'm going on a date and will actually enjoy myself? I think facetiously.
"Thanks, Lillian," I say as we both laugh and she hangs up the line.
Lillian is like a mother figure to me, since my real mother is so far away. I know that she has my back, and she always encourages me to go out and meet people. In fact, she introduced me to her neighbor's cousin's friend. I agreed only because I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I'm not even going to tell you about that fiasco. She always says, "You're too pretty to be alone." And my response is, "Does that mean that ugly people deserve to be alone?" I know that the initial attraction is usually physical, but once you get past that, there's got to be something of substance to keep it going. The way I figure it, if Flavor Flav can get a woman to love him, then there's somebody out there for everybody.
"Hi Craig, How are you?"
"Rosalie, I need to talk to you about our date," he said, ignoring my question.
"O...kay," I say encouraging him to continue. I notice that there is a difference in his voice from the last time we talked.
"Well, unfortunately I'm going to have to cancel…My wife…"
"Excuse me!" I interjected before he could finish his sentence "Your what?"
"My wife, Rose. We've been separated for a year now," he said. "We spoke last night and have decided to try and make our marriage work. I'm sorry," he said.
"Craig," I say in the calmest voice I can muster," I've known you for a few months now and during that time, how many times have you asked me out?"
"I don't know, maybe five or six times," he replies.
I continue with sarcasm, "And while you were asking me out, it never dawned on you to mention the minor detail of a wife?"
"We were separated, Rosalie. I didn't feel the need to tell you," he said, a little too casually for my liking—dumb ass!
I surprisingly maintained my cool and continued, "You say that you've decided to try and make your marriage work? Was this decision a result of one conversation that you two had last night?"
"Well, we've been talking about it for a while now, but the decision to try again was made last night."
"Okay," I replied. "So you were pursuing me all the while you and your wife were contemplating reconciliation?"
"Yea, but it's not like that, baby. You make me sound like a dog," he replied.
"Baby?" I ask in total disbelief that he uses that term with me, and I just lose it, "What the fuck is wrong with you? You don't have the right to call me baby, you worthless, conniving, self-centered prick. You are a waste of a human life…going around playing games with people's feelings. It's a good thing for you, that this shit ended before it had the chance to begin, because you have no idea what I'm capable of. I feel sorry for your wife. She's probably telling her friends how much she loves you and how the two of you have rediscovered each other, while you're out here discovering something all right. Who the hell do you think you are—Columbus? And to think that parents put their trust in you to teach their children values. How can you teach someone values when you don't have any your damn self!? I hope, for your wife's sake, that you try really hard to make your marriage work because apparently she's made the mistake of loving you. But if you so much as think about dialing my number again, I will break your motherfucking fingers…and believe me I can do it! In fact, I should send somebody over there right now to kick your ass for making me lose my composure because I'm a damn lady and ladies only act this way when assholes like you force us to. Now get the hell off my damn phone you piece of shit!" I yelled, slamming down the phone. I Was Hot!
I straighten my desk and gather my things. Today has been a day from hell, starting with me being late for work, almost running out of gas, dealing with the couple from hell, and now dealing with this asshole. It doesn't totally diminish how pissed off I am at him, but I am glad this all came to a head before I invested any real time and emotion in him. I'm also a little pissed at myself for not seeing the jerk for who he really is. I need to blow off some steam, and I know just how I'm going to do it. I have my aerobics class tonight, and I'm going to work my ass off, literally.
I decide to change in my office so I won't have to talk to anyone when I get to the gym. I don't want my bad mood to rub off on anyone, and I don't feel like answering any questions. I am glad I did because with traffic, I make it just in time for class. I walk in the room without saying a word, go directly to the music cabinet and connect my iPod, put on my headset and microphone and am ready to go. I face the class and say, "Let's get started." They can tell that something is wrong, but I don't feel like pretending that everything is okay. I'll shake it off later, but for now, I'll use it to my advantage. I always have an intense workout when I'm in a mood like this, and since I don't have an alternative stress reliever available to me at the moment, it will have to do.
The music starts, and my body automatically begins to move. I do not stop until the playlist ends. With every song, I give it everything I have—every punch, kick and crunch is exaggerated. I want to cleanse my body of the effects of this day and to feel the stress melt away. It's just me and the music. I am so engrossed in it that I don't notice anyone. Well, that is until I hear somebody yell "You go girl!" I look in the direction of where the voice comes from to find Alice. I tell you, the woman is not human! She is strong, fast, a little on the pale side…kind of reminds me of a vampire. Whatever she is, the little woman gives me a run for my money—she is really good! When the class ends, I look around to find people staring at me. With a shrug of my shoulders, I say, "What?" They just ignore me and walk out. I start to feel bad. Was I that rough on them? Well they came here for a workout, and that's what they got, and I'm not going to apologize for it.
I walk back to the music cabinet to lock up the equipment when I feel the presence of someone behind me. I don't feel like talking, so I ignore them, hoping they'll just go away. I then feel the person getting a little too close for comfort. Just when I ball my fist to punch, I hear a voice in my ear saying, "If I wanted my ass kicked, I would have gotten in the ring with Tyson." I'd know that voice anywhere. I turn around to see my best friend. I relax my hand and instead of the punch I almost give him, I slap his arm as I squeal out his name, "Dec!" He gives me a bear hug, lifting me up off the floor, which isn't easy to do. When he puts me down, what he said registered. I guess I was rough on them.
"What are you doing here? It's so good to see you," I add before giving him a chance to answer the question.
"I haven't seen my best friend in a while. I had a cancellation, so I decided to come by and see you. Thanks to you, I keep my workout bag in the trunk, so I got here in time for your class. But now, I don't think it was such a good idea," he says with a grimace.
"What do you mean it wasn't a good idea?" I ask.
"Hell, woman you almost killed me!" he replies.
"Dec, I'm sorry. I was pissed off about something, and you know how I am when I'm stressed—and this is my only outlet," I say.
"What's got you so upset, Rosebud? You want to talk about it?" he asks.
Just hearing him call me Rosebud brings tears to my eyes. Other than my late father, and my brother who lives out of state, Dec is one of the few men in my life who I can totally be myself with—let down my defenses with. He knows me and accepts me the way I am. He looks at me and sighs when he sees that I was getting all weepy and gives me a hug.
"Let's get out of these wet clothes and go someplace to talk," he says.
"I can't. I got dressed at work and didn't bring extra clothes," I reply.
"Well, I'm not going to be responsible for you getting sick. Why don't you go home, and I'll pick up some dinner and bring it to your house," he says.
"That sounds great, Dec. I want to get out of here before people start asking questions. I don't feel like talking to anyone tonight," I say.
He replies, "Don't worry, Rosebud. Nobody in your class has enough energy left to say anything."
"Very funny. I'll see you at the house," I say as I walk away. When I reach the door, I turn and say, "Oh and Dec…Thank you." He just nods while giving me that crooked smile and shoos me away.