Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) (32 page)

BOOK: Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez)
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When the test was done, they removed the swab and placed them in individual plastic containers. They labeled the containers with their respective code numbers and then waited for their rows to be called to the adjoining room, where they dropped off the specimens and were told the results would be back in two days. At that time they could come back and use their code numbers to get their results.

Gina and Cheryl walked out of the clinic together. When they got outside, it was still daylight.

“Do you want to get a cup of coffee or something?” Cheryl asked meekly.

“No,” Gina said. “But I’d love to get a drink of the alcoholic variety.”

“That does sound like a better idea than coffee. What’s around here?”

“I have no idea. I don’t get out to Fairfax very often.”

“Why don’t we head back downtown? Maybe the Big Hunt or the Front Page?”

“The Big Hunt sounds good. Why don’t I meet you there,” Cheryl replied as they walked toward the parking lot.

Post-testing Drinks

“O
h, this is good,” Gina said, taking a long sip of her draft, a Kilian’s Irish Red. She and Cheryl were sitting in a booth at the Big Hunt, a bar on Connecticut Avenue with a huge selection of beers.

“Yeah, I really needed it. I hate doing this testing thing. I was a nervous wreck a few years ago until I got the results back.”

“I’ve been a real bitch for a few days now. I can’t concentrate on anything at work. Yesterday I just called in sick and lay in bed all day.”

“Are you really that worried about the test results?”

“Aren’t you?”

“A little, but I don’t think the chances are that high that it will come back positive.”

Didn’t have sex with a porn star, huh? “Yeah, me either, but it still grates on my nerves,” Gina lied. She was worried sick that the test might come back positive. “If I may ask, I guess there have been others?”

“Others?” Cheryl asked.

“Someone other than Peter. I can’t imagine you’re concerned about catching something from him.”

“From Peter? Always-wear-a-condom Peter? Jump-out-of-bed-immediately-after-sex-and-take-a-shower Peter? Rinse-his-mouth-out-with-Scope-every-five-minutes Peter? No, Peter is the least of my worries.”

Gina laughed. “God, he still does that. Don’t you hate that?”

“It used to bother me, but I just chalk it up to one of his quirks—one of his many quirks. How about the stupid humidifier he runs all damn night?”

“Oh, God, I’d forgotten about that. I used to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night and turn it off. I’d try to wake up before him and turn it back on, but sometimes I didn’t, and I’d catch hell the next day. How does he sleep with that thing humming all night long? The more I think about it, he is very odd, isn’t he? I was over there the other day, and he was sprinkling some kind of anti-allergy powder all over the carpet to kill dust mites or something.”

“He’s also doing some bizarre broccoli diet where you boil the broccoli and drink the juice. It’s disgusting.”

Gina laughed again. She had almost forgotten about why she and Cheryl were once such good friends. They both enjoyed trashing people, and they were both so good at it. Whoever was out of earshot was fair game. In college they would stay up into the wee hours of the morning, Gina on the top bunk and Cheryl on the lower bed, discussing the girl down the hall with the bad haircut or how the girl with the big ass in their stats class had no business wearing that tight miniskirt. They were always up to no good.

They constantly terrorized their suite mates, Chiller and Lisa. Their dorm room at American University was actually part of a suite, which meant their room was connected to an adjoining room by a shared bathroom. Chiller spent a lot of time at her boyfriend’s house, so she wasn’t around that much, but Lisa always seemed to be in the dorm with her loudmouthed boyfriend, Troy. The walls between the two rooms were fairly thin, and Gina and Cheryl were treated to a regular sexual sound-fest a few nights a week. They didn’t hear much from Lisa, but Troy was quite a talker—a loud talker. For kicks Gina and Cheryl would listen to them, and when Troy started with his “oh baby, oh baby, ride the pole, ride the pole,” Gina and Cheryl would call Lisa’s room, and the phone would start ringing, interrupting their love session at the most inopportune time. Juvenile? Yes. But it was good for a laugh or two.

For a brief period, Cheryl adopted a cat and kept it in their dorm room for a few days, unbeknownst to Lisa or Chiller (or Troy, for that matter). Growing ever tired of Troy and his clamorous sex talk, one night during one of his and Lisa’s escapades, Cheryl slipped into the bathroom with the cat and quietly jarred the door to Lisa’s room open. She left the cat in the bathroom and closed the door leading to her and Gina’s room. She and Gina lay in their beds and waited patiently. As usual, Troy started moaning and groaning and saying “oh baby, oh baby, ride the AAAAAHHHH-HHH!!!!!! What is it? What is it? Is it a rat?”

Now, several years later, Gina and Cheryl were speaking civilly for the first time in quite a while. Cheryl had approached Gina numerous times over the years. She apologized incessantly for the incident with Peter, but Gina wouldn’t accept her apology and continued to ignore her until Cheryl finally gave up. Gina wasn’t exactly sure why she was finally thawing out. Maybe the sting of Cheryl’s actions was finally subsiding or maybe it was just nice to commiserate with someone going through the HIV testing process—even if that someone was Cheryl. Or it could have had more to do with Linda spending every waking moment with Rosa and having less and less time for Gina.

“So, if I may ask, why are you getting tested?” Gina asked Cheryl.

“I made a mistake—a stupid mistake,” Cheryl said, wanting to leave it at that. She really didn’t care to tell Gina about the night she hooked up with someone from a bar a couple of months earlier, long before she met Cooper. She hadn’t even mentioned Cooper to Gina. Actually, she hadn’t really mentioned Cooper to anyone. Things were going so well with him, she didn’t want to jinx it.

“A mistake?” Gina asked.

Oh, what the hell, Cheryl thought. I may as well tell her. “I was at a bar with some of the girls from work. It was a Friday night, and it had been a long week. I guess I had more to drink than I should have. Oh, Lord, this is so embarrassing. I met this guy. He wasn’t much to look at, and he was older than me, but he was so nice and attentive.”

“Really.”

“He kept feeding me drinks,” Cheryl continued. “And before I knew it we were back at my place, and one thing led to another and . . . now I’m getting tested. I can’t believe I was so stupid. Every time I think about it, I get nauseous. I keep seeing his fat moon-pie face and this stupid cap he was wearing when we met. I think it said ‘The Big C’ or ‘The Big G’ or something.”

Family Planning

“W
hat do you think of this?” Linda said, holding up a pink baby sleeper. She and Rosa were in the infant department at Lord & Taylor in Tysons Corner.

“Suppose it’s a boy? We can’t put him in pink.”

Linda noted how Rosa said
“We
can’t put him in pink.” More and more Rosa seemed to be indicating that she wanted to raise her baby in partnership with Linda. Almost as if Linda would be co-mom. Linda wasn’t sure how she felt about the situation. Everything was happening so fast. She had only known Rosa for a short time but had never had such intense feelings for anyone in her life. Even though she was falling hard for Rosa, she had mixed emotions about the baby and what her ultimate role would be.

“Why not? He or she isn’t even born yet, and you’re gender-stereotyping already,” Linda said.

“I am not. It’s not a gender thing. It’s a tradition thing. Little girls wear pink and little boys wear blue.”

“So if you’re not going to find out the sex before the baby’s born, how do we know what to buy?”

“I guess we buy lots of yellows and greens.”

“Blah. I don’t know why you just don’t let the doctor tell you whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Again, Linda, it’s a tradition thing.”

“Rosa, there isn’t anything traditional about this baby. It was conceived in a doctor’s office and is going to be raised by a lesbian.”

Rosa remained silent following Linda’s comment, as if it had upset her.

“I’m sorry,” Linda said. “I was only joking.”

“I know. I know. It’s just that sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, having this baby by myself. He needs his father.”

“Father? You don’t even know who the father is.”

Rosa hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, I know, but it just—Do you think I’m doing a terrible thing? Bringing a baby into the world without a father?”

“Please, all that baby needs is your unconditional love. You can find a father figure for him if it’s a boy—or if it’s a girl, for that matter.”

“You think?”

“Of course, maybe Peter would be up for the role.”

“Maybe,” Rosa replied with a little giggle. “Gosh, I’m just scared. This is so new to me. Some days I just can’t believe it. There’s a little baby growing inside me, and in a few months I’m going to be a mother. Me—Rosa Martinez—a mother.”

“You’ll be a wonderful mother.”

“Thanks, Linda. Really, thank you for everything. If I hadn’t met you, I can’t imagine what things would be like.”

“Well, I can say the same.”

“I’ve been sort of wondering about something, Linda. I’m going to need to start birthing classes eventually, and I need a partner. I guess I was wondering . . .”

“I’d be happy to be your partner.”

“Thanks. That takes a big load off my mind—one less worry for me.”

“You’ve got to stop worrying. Everything will be fine.”

“I know, but there’s so much to deal with, and I just can’t get past the baby not having a father.”

“Why are you so worried? Plenty of kids grow up fine without a father. Look at Gina. She didn’t have a father, and she’s a normal, well-adjusted gal.”

“I guess you’re right, Linda. I guess you’re right.”

Screwed by the Same Man

“O
h my God!”

“What?” Cheryl asked Gina, somewhat taken aback by Gina’s reaction to her news.

“Oh my God!” Gina said again.

“What? What?”

“It said ‘The Big G’ didn’t it? The cap—it said ‘The Big G’?”

“Come to think of it, I guess it did. Yeah, now I remember. His name was Griffin . . . Griffin Cirelli.”

“I don’t fucking believe it.”

“Gina, if you don’t tell me what’s going on . . .”

“Okay. Okay. It’s just hard to get the words out,” Gina said. “Okay, here I go.... I slept with him too,” Gina continued, wincing at the mere thought of it.

“You slept with Griffin? The Big G?”

“Oh, yeah. He landed me the same way,” Gina said, conveniently leaving out the fact she ran into him in the hallway of her building and invited him into her apartment.

“Is this some kind of sick joke or something?” Cheryl asked suspiciously.

“Oh, God, how I wish it was,” Gina reassured her. “You don’t know how much I wish it was.”

“This is unbelievable, Gina. He was fat and old and bald. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know, Cheryl, but that’s not the end of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Brace yourself. How do I tell you this?”

“Spill it, Gina. You’re scaring me.”

“Griffin. The Big G. He’s a porn star.”

“What? Oh, now I know this is a joke. How did you know about me and Griffin, and how did you know I was going to get tested today?” Cheryl accused, starting to get angry.

“You don’t believe me? Want proof? Let’s go for a ride, Cheryl,” Gina said, dropping a ten on the table and getting up to leave.

“Where, Gina? I don’t like this.”

“Come on,” Gina said, walking toward the car in front of Cheryl. “I only hope I can find the place.”

It didn’t take the girls long to travel across town to Myers’ Books and Magazines. Rush hour had just passed and traffic was pretty light. Gina made a couple of wrong turns but eventually recognized the neighborhood and was able to find the store.

“What the hell are we doing here? This neighborhood looks scary,” Cheryl said.

“I want to take you in the bookstore and show you something.”

“Gina, now is hardly the time to look for the latest bestseller.”

“Just come with me,” Gina said, getting out of the car. Cheryl followed once again, and as they came through the front door, Cheryl was visibly disturbed.

“What kind of place is this, Gina?”

“What’s it look like? It’s Fucking Pervert Central Station.”

“I want to go, Gina. Now!”

“Look,” Gina said, pointing toward a group of videos on display. Cheryl turned her head and observed The Big G collection. She was speechless.

While Gina was feeling a certain degree of comfort knowing that someone else was going through the same horrific moment she did when she saw the videos, a small woman called to the girls from behind the counter. She was the same woman who was there during Gina’s last visit.

“You girls like The Big G?” she asked.

The girls ignored her, so she called again. “If you like The Big G, I have his Web site address.”

“Excuse me?” Gina said.

“He has a great Web site.”

“Really?” Cheryl asked, finally able to speak again.

“It shows clips from his movies and tells you about his upcoming films. And get this. Soon we’re going to be launching The Big G Cam.”

“The Big G Cam?” Gina asked.

“This is such a hoot. You know the baseball cap he wears in all his movies?”

“Do we ever,” Gina replied regretfully.

“Well, it actually has this tiny hidden camera in it. For the past six months or so, he’s been seducing these pathetic women and getting it all on film.”

“What!” Gina shrieked.

“Oh, yeah. He finds these poor bitches at bars and goes back to their place. Then before the performance gets started, he takes off the hat and strategically places it where it can record all the action. We’re going to load all the recordings online and charge money for people to view them. Isn’t that hysterical?” the woman said to the two girls, who had suddenly become severely flushed and dumbfounded.

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