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"Far out, when d'ya order these?" I opened the delivery carton and looked at the anemones with pleasure. We didn't carry them all the time, not because they were too expensive, just most people wanted bigger, fancier flowers in large bouquets.
"Huh?" Marian was unloading a new box of ribbon ties. "Oh, yeah, they were a special order. The docket's on the counter, make it up would ya?"
It wasn't one of our usual order forms, it was a piece of plain paper with printing on it. 'Anemones, just purple, especially not red' and the date, was all it said. I smiled. A customer with the same taste as me.
"There's no address," I called through to Marian.
"Collection," she hollered back.
"No name either."
"I've got the card." Weird. She usually hated doing the cards. I made up the bunch, thinking, like I always did, how pretty they were.
When it got to closing, the anemones were still sitting there, waiting. I locked the front door and pulled down the blind. Marian was finishing up the cash register.
I frowned. "That was a waste of good flowers."
"Nah." Marian smiled and held out the card. 'Happy Birthday Evie' I read, in her writing. I grinned. Sweet of her, although she'd given me a card and some hip eyeliner on Saturday already.
"Thank you."
She shook her head. "Ain't my doing, Sweet Pea. A kid came by with the money an' instructions in an envelope last week."
"A kid? What kid?"
She shrugged. "Some little kid. Said they'd been paid to give me the envelope."
"By who? Who are they from?"
Marian let out a peal of laughter. "Honey, I think it's supposed to be a secret. No one's gonna go to that trouble if they wanted you to know they was sending you flowers."
xXx
When I got home, I was intending to inspect the anemones carefully, hoping that I hadn't crushed them on the bus. I'd wrapped them in extra paper, to keep the cold air from sending them into shock.
Kind of needed some defense from shock myself when I stepped into the kitchen and Ma handed me my mail. She looked almost defiant as she watched me take in the fact that she'd been all the way to the mailbox – at the front of the house. That was even more impressive than collecting the washing from the back yard.
"I saw the mailman go by and I just thought, damn it, why not?"
I grinned at her. "Great, Ma. You wanna show me?"
She paled. "Oh, I don't know."
"Sarah won't be in for a while..." I teased her. I kind of liked having this secret. I liked having Ma to myself in a small way.
I persuaded her to put on her coat. It had hung on the hooks in the entryway, next to mine and Sarah's, for all the years when she never went out. It was like some kind of camouflage that we had a normal life, like she was still part of the real world. She must have lost weight because it was big on her.
Ma started muttering to herself and I realized she was psyching herself up, trying to anticipate everything that could possibly happen to her once she stepped out the door. I figured that could go on for a long time, so I opened the front door and started yakking myself.
"I got flowers today," I told her, taking her hand and drawing her outside with me.
"What do you mean, you always..." She held onto the porch post, her knuckles tightening.
"Nah, not work flowers. Someone sent me flowers. Anemones. My favorites. I'll show you when we go back in."
"Are they? Your favorites?" Hmm. That answered one possibility. Ma hadn't sent them. Not that I knew how she'd have got a kid to drop the cash in, all the way over to the shopping center, anyway.
"Yup. For my birthday, of course. But it's kind of a mystery, huh?" I was talking for the sake of talking now as we approached the end of our path. Ma's feet were on the sidewalk without her noticing.
"Did...did your boyfriend send them?" Her voice was getting panicky.
"Buzz? Maybe. But I don't know. He gave me presents already." I was wearing the gold necklace and earrings he'd given me. And why would he have waited until the day after my birthday to have me do the flowers, when we'd spent the day together on Sunday?
We were past the next house along when Ma's nerve ran out. She swayed a little against me.
"It's okay, Ma. We're going in now. I'm freezing. Is it colder than yesterday, do you think? Do you think it's gonna snow before Christmas?" I yammered away, turning her around and letting her set the pace back inside our front yard. I noticed that she started breathing easier once we crossed some invisible line by the mailbox. But I thought that showed progress, since last month she couldn't even have got that far.
"Hey, Ma. See that tree, with half the leaves still on it?" I pointed. She turned and looked, her cheeks shining pink from the fresh air.
"Oh, it's so ugly. I don't know why they let it grow all to one side like that," she commented.
"That's how far we went." I watched her eyes widen. "You did good, Ma. Real good. Come see my flowers, huh?"
We went in. I made tea for her, with a spoon of honey, the way she liked it. And we hugged the secret between us when Sarah came in, complaining about her feet aching after a busy day at the beauty parlor.
I took the anemones up to my room. They sure were pretty. I didn't really hate any flowers, but something about the simplicity of the purple petals seemed just right to me. I knew I'd probably told several people that. I must have.
My purse was still open, the mail Ma had given me sticking out. A pale blue envelope. I didn't have to open it to know the return address was Florida.
Sandy said she was the size of a barn. I couldn't imagine it. She was fixed in my mind as the willowy blonde I'd shadowed for years. The best I could do was imagine a basketball shape stuck on the front of her.
The size of her belly was the least of it; some of the things Sandy had said were happening to her body sounded like Twilight Zone stuff to me. I imagined I could use her letters as Sex Ed materials, maybe sell them on to the high school. They would be more use as scare tactics than the pamphlets they'd handed out to us, advising purity and abstinence. And we didn't even go to the Catholic school. Those girls got the full 'burn in Hell' deal rammed down their ears.
Even if you read the problem pages of the magazines, it was always 'hold back', 'don't give in', like boys were some kind of drug to be avoided. And how come the guys didn't get the same advice? How come it was okay for them to have needs, to want sex? But not chicks? Sounded like the worst kind of hypocrisy to me.
Who were the poor, desire-fueled boys doing it with, if all the girls were advised to hang onto their virginity?
I'd read about this new wonder contraceptive pill, even discussed it with Sylvia, who was surprisingly up to date with the news. What we couldn't understand was, why it was only allowed for married women? If you were married, what the hell difference did it make, if you got knocked up? If unmarried girls could use it, it would be fantastic, no one would ever be sent away, like Sandy. No more hoping guys would be sensible, no more stopping just when things got interesting, only for him to discover he'd 'forgotten' to shell out on Trojans.
What the hell use was Women's Lib, if not to get us this miracle drug?
I tucked Sandy's latest note in the box where I kept all her letters. She was bored, mostly. Her grandma didn't let her leave the house, except for doctor's appointments, which was when she posted her letters to me. She still insisted she was coming back to Tulsa, afterwards. I couldn't see it happening. I couldn't imagine how she would pick up the pieces of her life. The pieces of all our lives were blown far apart now.
When I'd written her about Johnny and Dallas, I'd found it hard to explain. I'd ended up clipping the story from the newspaper, letting the journalist have the words. The rest of it - Steve, me and Sylvia becoming friends, me and Buzz, - had been equally difficult. I didn't think I did a good job writing it all. She didn't understand.
I knew that she didn't because she kept finishing her letters by asking me about Soda. But what was I going to write? 'Soda's gone back to being the 'One Night King', only now he's averaging two or three a night'? Or, 'Soda's banged everything with a pulse on the North Side'?
Like most people who move away, she seemed to still be imagining things going on the same, despite what I was writing.
xXx
I got off early on Wednesday. We didn't have an official afternoon off, Marian was way more flexible than that, generally let us slide away any day, if it was particularly quiet. It made up for the late nights we had to pull when there was a rush job, or some huge Socy event, like a wedding, to prepare for. Thank God Sarah was getting married on a budget; I couldn't have coped with her if she'd had all the choices the South Side chicks had.
The shopping center was pretty quiet. I was exchanging a sweater Sarah had given me for my birthday. Luckily it was a little on the large side, so she knew I couldn't wear it. I say luckily, because it was hugely on the square side, so I wouldn't have been caught dead in it. I already had my story straight, that they didn't have any more in my size, so I'd had to choose something else instead.
"That's the one," a voice interrupted as I held up a top to see what it looked like. I span around. Kathy grinned at me. "Ain't that like the one Ann-Margret wore in The Cincinnati Kid? You should so get it – you got your own Cincinnati Kid, don'tcha?"
I smiled back. "Jeez, I hope not. He cheated on his girl, didn't he?"
"He was a guy, wasn't he? So, yeah." There was more than a hint of bitterness.
I put the top back. Didn't see myself as Ann-Margret. Kathy pulled another one out, much more my kind of thing. She picked up a couple of others and we headed to the fitting rooms. Since I was dressed for work, I didn't get the evil eye from the sales lady as much as I would have if I was real dolled up, but I saw her give us the once over all the same. Kathy always had nice threads, I'd noticed, but she was still never going to be mistaken for a Soc. The sales lady would be counting the items we brought out, for sure.
"You still dating Two-Bit?" I called to Kathy, wondering about her previous comment.
"I think so."
"You think so?" I twisted around to see the top. I liked it.
"He don't hardly call me, except right before he wants to go out."
"He seeing someone else?" I stuck my head out to check out the sweater she was trying. It didn't suit her and we both wrinkled our noses.
"He says not. But he would, wouldn't he?"
"Actually, no."
"You don't think Two-Bit would get around?" Kathy came out of her cubicle, looking skeptical.
"Oh, I know he would. I just don't think he'd lie about it. He'd tell ya quite happily if he was seeing other chicks."
"Where is he then? 'Cause I don't see him but once in a blue moon."
I thought about that. I was still thinking about it at the cash register, as I swapped the sweater for the top that someone from this century would actually wear.
"Are you seeing other guys?" I asked, as we walked out of the store. Kathy shook her head. Interesting. So she didn't like the fact that he made her wait around – but she waited all the same. "So what happens when you call him? You call him, right?"
"Nah."
"For Chrissakes, are both of you just sitting at home, looking at the phone?" It was unlikely that Two-Bit was sitting at home, but the gist of my argument remained the same. Kathy laughed, at herself.
"Yeah. Maybe that's it. I never really got past the first coupla dates with anyone else. Maybe the rules are different."
Ooh, even more interesting. Because I strongly suspected that Two-Bit rarely got past a couple of dates, either. Thinking back to the summer, I remembered a Christine, a Wendy, a Darla, the infamous Rhonda from the lake trip - didn't think I ever saw any of them more than once. Not that it meant he didn't see them other times, but still...
"Seems to me," I suggested, "you should establish some rules. Call him up. Lay it on the line. If you wanna keep him around," I added slyly.
"I dig him," she said simply.
I nodded. "Well, then. Tell him so. 'Cause I think he digs you too." She smiled to herself. I pushed for more information. "So, how come you never had a steady date before?"
"Aw, y'know. By the time any guy's had to front Marshall and Adam, he usually thinks it's too heavy a scene to bother coming back."
"Two-Bit must really like ya then?" I teased.
She smiled. "Actually, Marshall likes him. He knew him before I did."
"And Adam?" I was flirting with danger, to turn the conversation to Murphy, but I was intensely curious.
Kathy pulled a face. "Adam don't like anyone." But she said it in an affectionate tone, so I figured what Buzz said about them growing up, being close, was true. And maybe that was where she'd got her information about Buzz. Hopefully not anything about me and Ricky though.
"I was surprised he knew my boyfriend, he tell ya about Buzz?" Might as well cut to the chase.
"Well, yeah. They go back. Adam knows a lot of people, he does deals all around. Not downtown, not there." Kathy seemed to want to correct herself. "Me and Bridget were visiting her sister, that's why the guys picked us up there. He wasn't there for business."
I had no idea what she was talking about. But it didn't seem like Murphy knew who I was, or at least hadn't said anything about me. I was real pleased about that.
"Bridget's sister got married. She lives down that way. But the baby was cryin' and all, so we bailed and called Marshall from the bar." She really seemed to want to explain what they were doing there. Weird. So it wasn't River Kings turf, so what? It wasn't unheard of, for people to visit other parts of the city. Even gang members. Maybe not regularly, but it wasn't like Tim Shepard burst into flames if he stepped over his gang territory threshold. We weren't talking about greasers storming into a Soc Country Club, or Socs rocking up to the Dingo, or anything major. As far as I knew, the downtown bars were neutral ground.
We stopped outside the window of a shoe store. A pair of shoes caught my eye. They looked like they were exactly the right shade to go with my bridesmaid dress. Kathy cooed over them and I told her about Sarah getting married.
"When d'ya need them for?"
"February. I know, I know, who the hell wants to get married in February? Ain't even Valentine's Day or nothing. It's right by Tony's birthday. Sarah seems to think that'll help him remember their anniversary."
"Aw, that's sweet."
I made a gagging noise and Kathy laughed. "At least she's letting you choose your own shoes! Bridget had to wear what her sister picked out. I'm telling ya, the nastiest shoes you ever saw. She hadda break the heel off, to get out of wearing 'em afterwards. And hell, the dress, you would not believe it."
I tried the shoes on. They were perfect. Way high, I knew they'd kill me by the end of the day, but it would be worth it. I got the sales girl to put them by until I could call by the bank and take out the money.
xXx
Strangely enough, it was Sylvia who put me onto where Two-Bit was spending his time, when he wasn't watching the phone, thinking about calling Kathy or whatever.
Buzz was out of town again, on the trail of a big win, and I was bored, so I wandered down to Danny's and kept Sylvia company on a bar stool that practically had 'reserved' on it for me. She went through the motions of looking at my fake I.D. – this had started as a game, but she was also semi-serious about not getting Danny in trouble for serving minors. I thought any cop worth his badge would work out that we were friends, and therefore that she knew exactly how old I was, but I went along with it.
"I saw Mathews again," she told me, as she tidied the bar at the end where I was sitting. I was pretty sure she left that chore until I came in, just so we could chat. When I queried the 'again' in her statement she looked surprised.
"Didn't I tell ya I keep seeing him go past? He's upstairs."
'Upstairs' threw me for a second, until I realized she meant the pool hall. I hovered for a couple of minutes over whether it was any of my business or not, what he and Kathy worked out. Eventually I was pretty evenly split between genuinely wanting Two-Bit to be happy with her and thinking that he deserved my interference for all the times he tried to stick his beak into my social life.
Luckily, both of those options had the same solution. I hopped down from the bar stool and headed upstairs.
It wasn't anywhere near as skanky as the dive where I'd run into Tim. It was, however, entirely female free, making me feel like a piece of prime rib thrown into a bear pit. I executed a neat little sidestep around a guy who assumed I'd been missing him in my life and scanned the room. It wasn't like Two-Bit was hard to pick out in a crowd.
He was leaning against the far wall, watching a game so intently that he didn't notice me sidle up. I leaned on the wall next to him, copying his pose.
I sucked air through my teeth and shook my head in an expression of dismay, as the guy with the stick missed his shot. Two-Bit looked around sharply.
"The hell? What're you doin here, Tink?"
"Oh, y'know, a girl's gotta shoot pool somewhere..." I smiled.
"Not funny." He took my arm and walked me away from the tables, towards the door.
"Two-Bit!" I struggled out of his grip. "Chill down some. Jeez!"
"This ain't no place for you."
"I only came up to see you."
"Up?" He looked confused, then he screwed up his face and closed his eyes. "Right. Sylvia's new game. I knew I'd haveta forget about this place."
"What game? She's working there." I defended her. "Doing good at it, too."
He shrugged. "Don't matter, I won't be here again."
"Why? Was it some kind of secret that you hang out here?" I was teasing but he actually looked shifty for a second or two. "Two-Bit?"
He walked down the staircase, leaving me no option but to follow him out into the street. He lit up a weed and paced a little.
"I just...the thing is...no one there knew Dally, y'dig?" He sighed.
I didn't and my expression must have told him so. He leaned back against the wall.
"I just feel like, sometimes, I wanna hang with people who don't know the whole story. Who don't look at me like 'that's the dude whose buddies bought it on the same night.' Who don't wonder what I'm doin', walking around, drinking, when they're not." He kicked himself off the wall, started pacing again. "Shit. I don't think I'm explaining it very well."
"Yeah, you are," I told him quietly. He stopped still and his eyes met mine.
"Does it make me sound like a real shit? To wanna be somewhere no one will talk about Johnny and Dally?"
I shook my head. "You're talking to the person who tried pharmaceuticals to escape the bad feelings, remember? At least you ain't that dumb."
"It ain't even that the guys talk about 'em that much..."
"But they remind you."
He nodded, crushing the end of his weed underfoot.
"Only sometimes, though?" I probed.
"Huh?"
"It's only sometimes, that you 'escape'? You ain't ditching the guys all the time?"
He said no, but he looked a little guilty, hunched his hands in his jeans' pockets. And that tied in to something he'd said earlier, about people judging him for 'walking around, drinking when they're not.' As if. I went a little closer to him.
"Two-Bit? You can't feel guilty, that you're here, and Johnny and Dallas ain't. You know that, right?"
When he didn't say anything, I realized he was pretty choked. And I realized I'd hit the nail on the head. I hugged him. It didn't seem weird or anything. It seemed like he was hurting and I knew how that felt. And for once, I was the one in a stronger place.
I knew that losing Johnny and Dally had to have hit them all hard. Soda's recent wild behavior could be a reaction to that, especially if I threw Sandy's betrayal into the mix. I didn't know what Steve was feeling and I probably never would. I dismissed that train of thought. Two-Bit was the one in front of me, the one I could help right now.
"Uh, Tink? Not that this ain't nice an' all..." He leaned his head back, to look down at me quizzically. I moved back from the hug, put my hands on my hips.
"What? Can't a person hug a friend when they need it?"
"Hell, yeah." He stepped towards me, arms wide for another hug, goofy grin on his mug. "I was just checkin' your shiny new boyfriend ain't gonna turn up, clean my clock."
I darted back a couple of steps. "Nah. But you oughta be hugging someone else anyways." He looked confused. I smiled. "And the best thing is, you already got her number. Let's you an' me have a little chat..."
I've added a one-shot of the conversation, from Two-Bit's POV. 'What Chicks Really Want'. But the next chapter will still make sense without it. :)