Calendar Girl (10 page)

Chapter Fourteen

T
HE BANGING WOKE ME
. I didn’t have an appointment until 11, so I’d decided to indulge and sleep in. But the fucking banging. So I stumbled to the door to answer. ‘What, what, what,
what!’
I yelled. I opened to door to my brother, fist raised for another round of banging. ‘What the hell, Jack? Are you trying to a) break down my door and b) scare the shit out of me?’

‘Mom says she’s going to report me for drug trafficking if I go on a gay cruise,’ he said and pushed past me.

‘I know. That is old news. And she won’t, Jack. She told me in high school that if I didn’t start dating that boy with the earring that she would have me put in the juvenile detention centre. She’s just blowing hot air. She’s not ready to accept all this 100 per cent and she’s going to do it her own way,’ I said, stifling a yawn. I shuffled into the kitchen and started making coffee and Jack lit a cigarette. ‘Take that outside!’

He grumbled but put it out under the streaming faucet. ‘You used to smoke,’ he complained.

‘Used to. I
used to smoke
but then I pulled my head out of my butt and quit.’

‘Oooh, so special.’

‘Nope. Not special. Determined. It was the hardest thing I ever did,’ I said truthfully. I hit the start button and waved him to the table. ‘You hungry?’

‘Yeah, actually. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. Mom had me so torqued up last night I couldn’t even think about food.’

‘Eggs?’

‘Eggs work. Got sausage?’

‘Mooch,’ I said but pulled it out. It was nine o’clock, I had plenty of time to eat and get dressed. When I bent to get a frying pan, my mind spit out a memory from a dream I’d had. A particularly graphic hot snippet of sex with ... I strained my memory. Probably the boys. ‘No ... Penn,’ I said.

‘Who? What? Who are you talking to?’ my brother asked, picking at a bit of peeling laminate on my placemat.

‘Don’t do that! You’ll ruin it.’

‘Sorr-rrrry. Who’s Pin?’

‘Penn,’ I said. ‘He’s a client. I dreamed about him, I must have some anxiety over the job is all.’ Oh boy, I was lying through my teeth.

‘Or your jonesing for him.’

I shook my head. ‘No.’ Lies! ‘So why does Mom not want you to go on the cruise?’ I cracked three eggs and started to whip them.

Jack shrugged and rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t know. Maybe she thinks it’ll make me
more
gay,’ he snorted.

‘Maybe she’s afraid you won’t come back,’ I said. ‘Remember when I got married and moved out, she was a wreck, and I was second favourite. You’re her favourite. Maybe she’s just afraid you’ll meet the guy of your dreams and move to Greece or Italy or something.’ It had some logic in it.

‘I guess. And she loves Jeffrey. So, why the fuck is she so nice to him and when I say I’m gay she goes completely bonkers?’

‘Jeffrey is not her son. She doesn’t have to keep him. She doesn’t have to worry that folks might be small-minded or cruel or bigoted to him. She would care if they were but she doesn’t have to
worry
about it,’ I said. I poured the eggs into a hot pan and started to stir. The sausage sizzled, reheating on the tiny oven top grill.

‘Are you defending our mother?’ Jack was laughing, shaking his head. He patted his crown where the hair was starting to thin.

‘I guess I am. To a degree,’ I amended. ‘Just give her time, Jack. She might be a royal pain in the ass during that time, but try and let her work through it. She will. And she will not report you for drug trafficking or anything else. They are empty threats.’

‘Fine. Now feed me, Seymour!’

‘
Little Shop of Horrors
,’ I said without thinking and then I did that. I fed the moose that is my brother and sometimes goes by the name of Simka. And dances in a cage.

Dr Calibri was helping the hoarder go through her bags of trash and I was working on her keep pile. Trying to evaluate where things would work best, how much storage was needed and if she needed some more storage brought in. I found a flood of art supplies. Oils and watercolours and palettes. Canvasses and brushes. And a finished piece. A large flower the colour my grandmother had always called Aubergine.
It’s pretty much eggplant, Merritt, but doesn’t Aubergine sound so much fancier?
I smiled at the memory.

‘Artist,’ I said to myself and my mind went to Penn. The tool boxes he’d requested had been way less expensive than custom cabinets. I would order Dr C’s patient a few and we’d get her art organised. ‘Art can be therapy,’ I said.

‘What’s that, Miss Evans?’

‘I told you, doc. Call me Merritt. And I said art can be therapy. I found all this.’ I showed him what I had and what I planned on installing.

‘You’re right,’ Dr Calibri said.

‘About the tool boxes?’

‘About the art being therapy. It was all mixed in with that chaos, but she made a fuss about keeping it. So it’s important. More important than bags of cans, old kitty litter bags or trash. So it might help unlock what needs to be addressed. Good job, Merritt,’ he said and patted my arm.

I had to give credit where credit was due. The art stuff made me think of Penn and Penn had asked for the towers and in his work I had seen flashes of the kind of darkness that could bog a person down but it was balanced with the visual bliss of art.

‘Visual bliss,’ I said. ‘Just like him, hotty-hot-hot.’ I giggled and then said to myself, ‘And stop talking to yourself, you nut.’ I dialled the hardware store and got the owner Andy. ‘Andy, I need ...’ I eyed up the cascade of supplies. ‘Four more of those tool tower thingies. I’ll call later with a credit card number and the address for delivery.’

Then I hung up and dialled Eli. ‘Interested in a huge cheese pizza, a bottle of wine and ...’ I cleared my throat. ‘A repeat of last night?’

There was total silence and I panicked. Feeling like I was using him for orgasms. I didn’t want to be that way. It had simply been enlightening, the no-sex sex. But then Eli spoke and I could hear the smile in his voice. ‘My place or yours?’

‘Mine?’

‘I’ll bring my toy box,’ he said and then, ‘Oh crap. They’re getting ready to write a ticket on my truck. Gotta go, baby. I’ll be there at six?’

‘Perfect.’

‘Oh and Merritt?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Mushrooms on half?’ He said.

‘Just for you,’ I laughed.
And your magical box of tricks.

Then he was gone and I was humming to myself. My head full of tool boxes, approaching sex, hoarders, orgasms, pizza and then ... Penn. I tried to push that one back.

He showed up showered, shaved, smelling fabulous and holding a small black box that almost looked like a tackle box. ‘Have you come to fix something, good sir?’ I teased.

I came to increase your flow of pleasure,’ he said, stepping in and kissing me. ‘I smell pizza.’

‘With mushrooms.’

‘My favourite,’ he kissed me again, backing me to the wall and arching his lean hips into my pelvis. I worked my hand between us and felt the length of him with my fingertips first and then my palm. He groaned and thrust gently into my hand.

‘Should we eat first or–’

‘Room temperature pizza is really best,’ he said.

‘I agree.’ I did sink to my knees, he only gave me a few moments, but I freed his cock from his pants through the zipper and I took him in my mouth. So intimate, more so than sex I felt, having his cock in my mouth.

I sucked him until his hands tangled in my hair and he gently brought me up to eye level. ‘Bedroom?’

‘Upstairs, down the hall. Last door,’ I said, but he knocked the breath out of me by bending and coming up under me, carrying me over his shoulder like a caveman.

‘Let’s go, lady,’ Eli said and started up the steps, his work boots clomping on the risers.

I was wet and ready and my stomach felt full of buzzing energy when he laid me back on the bed and tugged at my yoga pants. Underneath I was bare and he immediately planted his lips on my pussy and started to treat me to his oral attentions. ‘God, you know, I have to tell you that you are so, so, so good at that. I don’t even know how to tell you how good,’ I rambled as he licked a little slower, torturing me in the most delicious way.

‘I think
so, so, so
covers it,’ he said, his voice rumbling around my pussy and vibrating through my entire pelvis. I heard the latch on the box and shivered with anticipation. Then the quiet hum of the hot pink vibrator sounded and he slipped the tip only into my cunt. His tongue kept working until I was practically begging him with my body. Then he slipped it fully into me and started to work my g-spot.

Eli took me right to the edge, so that I had great fistfuls of my bed sheets, and then he hit the button for the next highest setting and I came, long and hard and loud, chanting. ‘So, so, so,
so
good.
’

We worked our way through the toy box and when he had wrung the fifth orgasm from me and I had begged, he stood and got himself off, decorating my belly with splashes of warm come.

I laid there, breathless, spent, so relaxed I felt boneless and finally said, ‘Wine? Pizza?’

‘Take a hot shower with me and yes. I’ll wash your back. I’ll wash your front,’ he said, pulling me up. Eli kissed me and I realised I liked him. I mean, I really really liked him. He was everything that a girl looks for and he hadn’t even fucked me yet. Not technically.

I followed him in and let him do just that. He washed my back, my hair, my front. He pushed two fingers into my pussy and pinned me up against the cool white tiles and got me off by teasing my g-spot and fucking me hard with his big, strong handyman fingers.

‘Food,’ I said finally and we dove into the room temperature meal. Red wine and pizza and a boxed chocolate cake for dessert. We watched reality TV and made fun of dramatic people. We drank more wine and he went down on me at midnight, licking my pussy until I gave up one more orgasm and then he carried me to bed and curled up next to me. Long and warm, he spooned me and I drifted off.

In the morning, I found his note that said he’d call me later. That he had an early job and hadn’t wanted to wake me.

I couldn’t wait for him to call, but I had to be honest, it worried me. It was only early May and I liked him so much. Turns out, he solved that dilemma.

Chapter Fifteen

‘H
EY, YOU
!’ I
SAID
, squishing into a booth at Pearl’s with my brother and Jeffrey. They had their heads together plotting their cruise. My phone rang and I shushed them.

‘Well, pa-ah-ahrdon us,’ Jack said and I stuck my tongue out at him.

‘Hey, Merritt,’ Eli said. I could tell right away.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I have to talk to you.’ The wind whipped at his cell phone and I lost his voice for a moment.

‘Is this you have to talk to me as in we have to talk?’ I asked boldly though my stomach had bottomed out and I felt sick.

There was a long pause where all I could hear was his breath and the wind. Traffic noise butted in once or twice but then he said, ‘It is. But it’s not what you think–’

‘Let me guess, it’s not me, it’s you,’ I said softly, biting my lips, determined not to cry. Why? Why had I let myself like this guy so much? It was far from love but had definitely tiptoed into the region of huge like and appreciation. I really liked Eli and how he handled himself. How he made me laugh. How generous, kind and funny he was.

‘It’s not you, Merritt. It’s Cathy. She came back and ... well, I love her. We broke up about two months ago and I thought I was better.’

‘But you’re not?’ I sighed. The two ‘J’s as I now thought of them were still sitting, heads together, but very obviously eavesdropping on me.

‘I’m not. I’m still in love with her and when she asked for me back. I was powerless to say no, to be honest. I’m really sorry, Merritt. In any other instant–’

‘Oh, no worries. No, no, no worries,’ I lied. ‘But is this why you um ... why we didn’t ...’ I really wish that the two ‘J’s would stop staring at me. I bared my teeth and they looked away like cowering puppies.

‘It was because you weren’t ready. You said so. And I liked you. And I think part of me wasn’t either. It seemed a good way to handle how badly I wanted you without stepping on your feelings. Or mine.’

‘Well, there you have it, then,’ I said. My heart seemed to have twisted in my chest. It was a painful sideways off kilter not-good-enough feeling that stole my breath. ‘I wish you both well,’ I made myself say. Because when all was said and done, Eli was a great guy and deserved to be happy.

‘Take care of yourself, Merritt. I’ve really enjo–’

‘Don’t,’ I said.

‘Bye, Merritt,’ he amended.

‘Good bye, Eli.’ I hung up.

‘Merritt?’ Jeffrey started and I waved him off.

‘Right. Where is the waitress? I need about six pounds of french fries. Stat!’

The worst part or the best, I’m not sure, was when I got home and found a hot pink box wrapped in ribbons sitting inside my screen door. I opened it to find the toys that Eli and I had shared. And a note:

Did you know that the clitoris actually extends under the large lips of the vagina? In some instances, the clitoris is up to six inches long. That’s a lot of pleasure, don’t you think? Most folks think it’s just a tiny pink epicentre of flesh. Little do they know.

As my parting act, I’m asking you to go find out about that extra area of pleasure you might not have known about. Think of me. And remember, I wanted you. Bad. And you’re great.

Much love,

Eli

I had actually read that in the past, but hadn’t given it much thought at the time. Now, I peeled my work clothes off slowly. The black jeans hit the floor with a soft complaint, my panties barely resisted. I peeled off my black cable knit sweater, tossed it. Unsnapped my bra and dropped it too. I arranged myself on the big empty bed and flicked on Eli’s vibrator. I touched it to my clit and the intense vibration was a pleasurable but intense shock.

I ran the head of it, curved to hit the g-spot best, along the outer curve of my large vaginal lips. The richer but less intense sensation was incredible. ‘How did I not know? How does anyone not know?’ I said to no one.

I shut my eyes, thinking of Eli’s dark hair, his dark eyes. His long, lean body and the feel of his come hitting my skin like drops of sunshine. I ran the tip of the vibe in lazy circles around the outside and then occasionally set the tip to my clit to get that intense buzz. I worked it in my cunt a bit, back out and around, lulling myself into a stunned kind of arousal until it was all too much.

And just on a whim, I lay the top three inches of the vibe flat along my outer lip and barely moved it in, more like rocked it over my skin. The orgasm that rushed up to consume me was entirely different and bittersweet. I cried for just a second and then started the process over again, finding my own rhythm. Taking matters into my own hand. A goodbye gesture for sweet Eli.

When I was once again on the precipice, I repeated the move but on the opposite side. I pressed the pink, trembling toy to my outer lip and rocked my hips this time. Just enough to create a sense of motion. And when I came, I shivered like I had a fever.

I curled on my side and let myself drift off to sleep. Just a cat nap.

The phone rang and it was my friend Lisa. ‘What are you up to, young lady?’ she asked. We hadn’t spoken in months.

‘I’ve been dumped and I have a box full of sex toys,’ I mumbled.

Lisa laughed, a long slow laugh that said she’d known me too long to let anything I said shock her. ‘Wanna meet me at the Flamingo for a drink in an hour or so? I’m leaving a work meeting that’s running late and figured we could catch up and shoot the shit. You can tell me all about this guy and the sex toys.’

‘And the plan and all the sex,’ I said. I sat up, still half asleep and only a tiny bit less sad about the sudden loss of Eli.

‘Um ... Wow. You do have a lot to tell me! In an hour?’

‘Fine. Yep. I have to get showered and dressed and I’ll be there.’

‘Is Miss Jeffrey on tonight?’

‘Should be. He never takes a night off. Except Sundays. Sundays are his psychic phone night.’

Lisa laughed. ‘What a crock.’

‘In his defence, he tells people he’s a fake psychic. It’s not his fault they don’t believe him.’

We hung up and I drank a glass of juice, had a hot shower, freed my hair from the shower cap and put it up in a messy top knot. Jeans and a tunic with some light boots would have to do. I was not interested in looking pretty, just in getting out.

‘Now explain this to me again,’ Lisa said. She sipped her dry white wine and wore her smart business suit well. Short to my tall, dark haired to my blonde, pale to my ruddy, we were a work in contrast, but very close friends.

‘It was Cloville’s fault,’ I said, sipping my red wine.

‘No doubt,’ Lisa said.

I smiled at her. ‘Argh!’

‘Jesus, you still get pirate teeth.’

‘Did you think I had new teeth? And I’m not looking to meet anyone, so I don’t care if I have pirate teeth. At least the wine is good.’

‘Cheap but good.’

We clinked glasses. ‘Is there any other way?’ I said, spinning to watch the stage.

‘I thought you were going to say
like us
,’ she said.

‘That too.’

‘Where is my lovely Cloville Yum-Yum?’ Lisa asked.

‘Most likely getting into his disco ensemble. He’s doing Gloria Gaynor’s
I Will Survive
tonight. If I’m not mistaken.’

‘Look at this one,’ she said. She pointed to a tall drag queen in aqua and pink paisley and white go-go boots. A shocking blue wig hung to her shoulders and long blue lashes curled up from her ornate makeup. Then I yelped.

‘Jack!’

‘Girlies!’ my brother said and made a beeline for Lisa. Those two had always been as thick as thieves growing up and nothing had changed.

‘Oh, my God. Merritt told me but ... but seeing is believing!’ She laughed and clapped and Jack twirled.

‘What are you synching tonight, bro? Um ... sis?’

Jack shrugged and accepted a bottle of water from the bartender. ‘Martha and the Vandellas,
Nowhere to Run
,’ he did a sixties shimmy-shake and Lisa clapped again.

‘I want to be a Vandella!’ Lisa said.

‘Actually, that’s why I came out. Timing is fucked and no one can lip sync my backup. How about it girls? You up to it?’

‘You want me to lip-sync. In drag?’

‘Technically, if you were in drag, you’d be dressed as a guy,’ Jack said.

‘Oh ... well, yeah. That’s true.’

‘I’m in!’ Lisa said, getting up and taking Jack’s hand as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Dressing in gaudy clothes and big wigs to sing backup for a six foot three man with gas flame blue hair. ‘You coming?’ she said to me.

‘Uh ... I don’t know the song,’ I said.

‘Everyone knows the song!’ they practically said in unison.

I blinked. ‘I’m afraid.’ There. I’d said it.

‘Of what?’ Lisa asked.

‘Think back to the freshman year award ceremony when Merritt got on stage.’

‘Stage fright,’ Lisa said, smacking her head. ‘You froze and then you tripped!’ she said as if I needed a refresher of the memory.

‘I know that!’

‘Come on, Merritt,’ Jack said and took my arm. ‘For me. For your brother. You can do it. You’re a grown ass woman now and you’ll be fine.’

‘OK,’ I said, trying to believe it and own it like they say you should. I wanted to do it for Jack. I wanted to do it for me. But my voice sounded like I’d been sucking helium and my body felt a bit on the numb side ... maybe I was having a stroke.

‘You are not having a stroke,’ Lisa said after one look at me.

Damn. Did
everyone
know how to read my mind?