Chase Banter [02] Marching to a Different Accordion (16 page)

Attempt the end and never stand to doubt;

Nothing’s so hard but search will find it out.—Herrick

Having congratulated themselves on their performance with Melinda, Chase and Bud disobeyed orders and went to Taco Bell, where they shamelessly stuffed themselves. When they returned home with Mentos on their breath and a taco sauce stain on Bud’s white polo shirt courtesy of Chase, who’d been eagerly reading the packet caption and opening it at the same time so that she had sprayed her luncheon companion with sauce, they were met with complete panic by Gitana and Donna—so much of it, in fact, that their indiscretions went quite unnoticed.

Donna gripped Chase by the shoulders and looked pleadingly into her eyes, “Tell me you didn’t fuck it up.”

“We didn’t fuck it up,” Bud replied, as she deftly slid a sweatshirt off the coatrack in the corner and slipped the garment on, thereby covering the stain.

“Bud, great God of mercy, don’t talk like that,” Gitana said, squatting down to look in Bud’s eyes for confirmation. “Really?”

“Principal Melinda is a big Chase Banter fan. She has all her books and Chase autographed them. So we are a shoo-in,” Bud said. “She did say that I must not mention my Mensa score.”

“Mensa score?” Gitana looked over at Donna, who’d released Chase and was now pouring herself a shot of tequila. She shook her head.

“It’s a long story. I think I’ll go take a bath,” Bud said, opening the fridge and pulling out a squeeze box of grape juice.

Chase suspected Bud wanted to avoid all the adult hoopla and having done her part was making a run for it.

“A bath?” Gitana said, glancing at her watch. Bud usually took her bath right before bed, not before dinner.

“I got pretty dirty at the jumble sale, but we did find the entire twenty volumes of the
OED
,” Bud said over her shoulder on her way out of the kitchen.

“You know, I got pretty dirty too. I think I’ll go take a shower,” Chase said, hoping she could pull the same tactic.

Gitana blocked her way. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I should at least get the books out of the car,” Chase said, making for the kitchen door. This time Donna blocked her path.

“Tell us everything,” Gitana said.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t make it in time,” Donna interjected. “I saw the Hummer in the parking lot at the school, but by that time I couldn’t just go barging in without making you look incompetent.”

“Thank you, Donna,” Chase said, not knowing if she should be offended or not.

“So I e-mailed Bud’s CV to the secretary, who promised to get it to the principal’s office ASAP.”

“Which she did,” Chase said.

“Did you happen to catch the secretary’s name?” Donna said.

Chase thought hard, trying to re-create in her mind the small brown wood plaque with the gold lettering that sat on the secretary’s desk. Donna stared at her intently as if willing her to remember. “It was Eleanor Raymond.”

Donna hugged her.

“Why?” Chase asked.

“So I can send her a thank-you gift,” Donna said. She screwed up her face. “Did you notice anything about her desk, like did she have a candy dish or a vase or a fancy pen or…”

“I’ll send her an orchid,” Gitana said impatiently. “Now tell us what happened.”

“It was exactly like Bud said. Really. I signed her books and she gave Bud a tour of the school. Bud took the Mensa test with Addison’s help and Bud will have to do some accelerated coursework. That’s all.”

Both Donna and Gitana looked grossly disappointed. “That’s it,” Gitana said. She took the bottle of tequila from Donna and poured herself a shot, slamming it back and wincing.

“So let me get this straight, you two have been getting yourselves all tied up in knots for nothing—imagining all sort of horrendous scenarios based on nothing but irrational fears. Is that correct?”

They both looked sheepish.

“Isn’t that the kind of thing you always accuse me of?”

Donna studied her fingernails. “I bought you a five-pack of Mentos,” she said, pulling it from her bag.

Chase snatched them. “Where were you, by the way?”

Donna glanced at Gitana, who pursed her lips. “She was tied up with something,” Gitana said. She poured Donna another shot of tequila. “You should stay here tonight. I think we all need a little downtime—pizza, movie and a few cocktails.”

“Yes,” Donna said, sighing.

“What happened?” Chase said, eyeing them.

Donna blurted, “I got a speeding ticket—that damn Myra had me on the phone so long I left late and then…” she started blubbering.

“A speeding ticket?” Chase was horrified. It was as if Donna had just been accused of butchering an entire kindergarten class.

“Don’t be such a hard-ass. People do occasionally get speeding tickets,” Gitana said.

“How fast?” Chase asked, her eyes narrowing.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Gitana said, patting Donna’s shoulder.

“How fast?”

“Sixty-eight in a thirty-five,” Donna screeched out.

Chase was speechless.

Donna blathered, “I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t really aware of how fast I was going until the, you know, red lights started flashing. I’m probably going to have to go to traffic school if I want to keep it off my record.”

At this Chase brightened. “Can I go with you?”

They both turned to look at her in amazement. “Why?” Gitana asked.

“Because they give you all sorts of tips on safe driving. It’s like getting lessons for free, well, not exactly free. How much is the ticket for?”

“A hundred and twenty-five dollars,” Donna said, equally as brightly. “I thought that was a deal, considering.”

“It was, considering that at that speed, you could have killed a dog, a child, an elderly person or yourself,” Chase said.

“Chase!” Gitana said as she watched Donna’s eyes fill with tears.

“No, she’s right. I was being an irresponsible driver and a disobedient citizen,” Donna said.

Then Chase felt bad. “I know you’re truly sorry and you won’t do it again.” She patted Donna’s shoulders.

“Who made you the traffic goddess?” Gitana said.

“I got a safe driver certificate from the insurance company and I know about that ticket you got in the safety corridor.”

“How’d you find out about that?” Gitana said.

“Little eyes, ears and mouths.”

“How come you didn’t say anything?” Gitana asked.

Chase pulled a beer out of the fridge. “Because I thought better of it. Bud and I had a little talk. We decided that it was her job to keep a sharp eye on the speedometer and to indicate any infractions at the time of occurrence. We decided to let you slide.”

Gitana pinched her. “That was sneaky.”

“So was not telling me about the ticket.” She sipped her beer and sat next to Donna, who still had her head in her hands on the kitchen island. She patted her back. “I think we’ve all learned valuable lessons here today.”

“Gag me,” Gitana said, digging out the pizza dough from the freezer.

Donna sat up. “I’m sorry I let you down today.” Her eyes were bleary.

“You didn’t let me down. You made me live up to my obligations without having my hand held. That’s a big thing.” She kissed Donna’s cheek. “Now, help me get all those books out of the car. It’ll cheer you up.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Gitana said. She shook her head and grated the parmesan cheese.

Later that night as Gitana and Donna sat in the den laughing uproariously at
The Beverly Hills Chihuahua
in a somewhat inebriated state, Chase and Bud sat cuddled in bed, going over
OED
definitions with Chase adding details about the references to books Bud had yet to read. As there were stress-reducing drunkards downstairs there were book-stoned occupants upstairs.

“Today was really hard on them,” Bud said, looking up from the book. “I’m not certain we shouldn’t be offended.”

“I think we might have to cut them some slack. I have been known to mess things up,” Chase said.

“You don’t do it so much anymore,” Bud conceded.

“Thanks, but nonetheless I can understand their apprehension. What they fail to notice is that I have you now and you help keep things straight.”

“I really feel that we are a good team, the yin and yang of it. We should look that up.”

“Let’s.”

“We have to make that donation tomorrow,” Bud said, looking suddenly worried.

“Are you concerned about God’s low opinion of us?” Chase said as she reached for the “Y” volume of the
OED
. They were surrounded by all twenty volumes.

“Jacinda says it’s best not to mess around with the big guy.”

“I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

“I don’t think they’re going to feel good in the morning,” Bud replied, taking the book from Chase as the laughter downstairs grew louder.

“No, they’re not.”

Can one desire too much of a good thing?—Cervantes

 “I don’t know if this is such a great idea,” Chase said, as Lou led her into her store, Erotique. She did a double take at the leather outfit on the mannequin located at the entrance to the showroom.

“Her name is Monique,” Lou said, guiding Chase further into the den of sex.

“Nice outfit, I’ve never seen one quite like it.” Chase looked around, horrified.

“You’re going to be all right,” Lou said as she flipped on more lights. Chase had arrived just as the store was opening.

“Well, I mean, maybe I’ve changed my mind.” She glanced at the dildo display and tried to imagine Gitana’s response to something like that.

“Chase, when was the last time you two made love?” Lou straightened up one of the dildos, an overly large, purple one.

“Um, let me think. It seems like it was just the other day,” Chase fumbled.

“You can’t remember.”

“We’ve been kind of busy and Bud is around a lot—that is a legitimate complication and I guess I haven’t been feeling very lesbian lately.” Chase studied the lube display. Had vaginal dryness set in already? she wondered.

“You’re not a bad lesbian. You just need to set aside special time just for the two of you. Now, look over here.”

Just then the shop bell rang and a customer came in. Chase prayed it wasn’t anyone she knew or who would know her. That was the problem with book signings—people were starting to recognize her. She looked across the shop to see Marsha from her SUP group—“I-might-be-a-lesbian” Marsha.

“What are you doing here?” Chase said.

“What are you doing here?”

Chase groped. “Research.”

“Let’s be honest. You want to pep up your love life,” Lou said, looking first at Chase and then at Marsha, “and you, I’ve seen you at the Community Center with Lacey so I’d say you were bi-curious.”

“Oh, God, this is so embarrassing,” Marsha said, heading for the door.

“Get back here. Lou is going to help us,” Chase said.

“I think we should start with the bedroom ensemble—the romance room.”

Chase blanched and Marsha’s face displayed terror.

Lou led them back to a small room that was set up as a display. It was an honest-to-goodness bedroom complete with a queen-sized bed and two nightstands. One side of the bed had the coverlet pulled back so the red satin sheets were exposed.

“Now, both of you get in. I’m certain neither of you have satin sheets and there is nothing like them against bare skin. They are fabulous.”

“I am not taking my clothes off,” Chase and Marsha said in unison.

“You’ve got shorts on, that will suffice.”

They both looked down at their legs like they were realizing for the first time they were indeed wearing shorts, the fine June weather having warranted such attire.

“Freshly shaved is best. Hop in.” Lou pushed them toward the bed. She was a persuasive saleswoman; both of them did as she instructed.

“Okay, now hold out your wrists.” They complied as she rubbed scented oil on them and then she lit fragrant candles and turned down the lights. They sat rigid. “You two look like virgins not excited about the consummation.”

Marsha stared at Chase. “I’m supposed to feel sexy and relaxed, right?”

“The sheets are nice,” Chase offered.

Lou hit the CD player and soft music played. “Relax, just breathe and think about your girlfriends.”

“I don’t have one,” Marsha blurted.

“Not as yet,” Lou said as she sat on the edge of the bed. Chase was feeling more relaxed and she was definitely having lesbian thoughts.

“I think this might work. It’s a little packaged, but all romance is except this is more sensual,” Chase said, smelling the oil on her wrist. “Can I put this all over her body?”

“That’s what it’s for.”

“I like the candles,” Marsha assented.

“They are sandalwood, it’s less intrusive than some of our other scents—a good beginner scent.”

“Okay, we’ll take it,” Chase said.

“But I don’t have anyone to share it with,” Marsha said.

“With this stuff when you do you’ll be a hit.” Chase was full of lesbian thoughts now. They’d need a babysitter.

“That’s the spirit,” Lou said. She went in the back to get two of the All-Inclusive Wonder Night Kits.

As Lou rang up the sale, Chase inquired about yoga. “You’re going tonight, right. I can’t do it without you.”

“Of course. Last week Peter had a summer cold and I didn’t want him giving it to the rest of the class.”

“Great. See you tonight.”

Outside the shop, Marsha said, “Can we go have coffee?”

“Sure.” Chase thought a latte and a biscotti sounded good. They went to the Cuppa Joe’s on the corner. She had no idea that she’d be paying for this privilege by listening to Marsha’s entire life history, not to mention that the biscotti was not its usual good self. It seemed to have overextended its normal life span.

“I mean, I don’t know what I was thinking when I got married. It just seemed like the thing to do. Looking back on it now, I think I liked his family so I overlooked his faults. And he was so bad in bed. I didn’t have much experience but it’s not like the Middle Ages anymore. One knows things and then, of course, you hear things. I mean, he was a ram-bam-not-even-a-thank-you man. He’d just hop on and thrust away, make a deposit and roll over and fall asleep. Do women do that?”

Chase wished her latte would cool off enough so she could guzzle it and run. Other people’s sex lives did not interest her and hearing about them was even worse. “Do what?” She didn’t know if Marsha was referring to the ramming part or the falling asleep part.

“Fall asleep after sex.” Marsha looked at her intently.

“I suppose it depends on what time it is,” Chase replied. If she and Gitana made love in the morning, or when they used to before Bud hopped in bed with them at the crack of dawn, they didn’t fall asleep, but if they made love before bed, they did. The “used to” line stuck in her mind like a goathead spur in her heel—instant and sharp. She and Gitana did need to work on their sex life. Did having children always smother a libido? She’d ask Lou. Lou, it appeared, knew everything about libidos.

“But women are better than men in bed,” Marsha said, snapping off a chunk of biscotti with a decisive movement like she’d already made up her mind.

“From what I’ve heard...I’ve never actually slept with a man.” Chase chugged her latte.

“You’ve never slept with a man!” Marsha said it a little too loudly and Cuppa Joe’s became quiet for a moment and people stared.

Chase intently studied her coffee cup. “Uh, no.”

Marsha noticed her faux pas and then, in a suddenly assertive moment, said equally loudly, “Good for you. You’ll make a great nun.”

Chase smiled. “I’m not sure Lily would approve, but it was a good social lie.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’ve just never known anyone who hasn’t…except nuns.”

Chase studied her. “Marsha, is there someone who you’d like to sleep with?”

“You, if you weren’t married, but as a second choice, I’d have to say Lou,” Marsha replied candidly.

“So why don’t you do it?”

“You mean jump into Sappho’s pool, just like that?” Marsha said.

“You don’t appear to be overly impressed with men and you seem to be more woman-oriented so I don’t see how it could hurt. I’m not certain about Lou, though. She’s had a bit of a rough ride and I don’t think a roll in the hay is what she’s looking for, but there are plenty of others.”

“Oh, I’m looking for long-term,” Marsha said emphatically.

“I see.”

“So I am going to ask Lou out. We can have a drawn-out dating period before we have sex.”

“You might want to ask Lou about that,” Chase said cautiously.

“Oh, I will.”

“Like tomorrow or the next day, perhaps,” Chase said, alarmed at the speed at which Marsha was heading for Sappho’s pond and that fateful jump.

“Well, of course. I can’t go walking right back in there and say now that I’ve got this set-up, do you want to try it out with me and by the way I’ve never done this before. I’ll send her flowers first.”

That night at yoga class they were practicing the
ubhaya padangusthasana
pose, which Chase referred to as the trying-to-pull-your-toes-while-lying-chin-in-on-your-back. She would never understand why yoga had such a big word fetish. Why couldn’t they just call it something like, “just-try-and-get-those-toes-shoved-in-your-mouth-while-lying-on-your-back pose?” She frowned. Perhaps that wasn’t any better. She had no idea when she signed up for yoga class that she’d be learning a foreign language at the same time. Bud did not seem to have any trouble with the language barrier or the poses and neither did Peter, so both she and Lou looked to them for guidance.

As she felt her hamstrings stretching to a place they’d never been before, she said, “Lou, do you like flowers?” This seemed like a good intro line to the Marsha dilemma. Chase was suffering a pang of conscience about letting Marsha loose on Lou. That hadn’t been her intention. She’d just thought at the time that Marsha might as well stop dilly-dallying about her sexuality and make a decision. She was hoping Lou thought flowers were stupid and Marsha’s plan would fail.

“I love flowers. People don’t seem to bother with them anymore. I’m a true romantic at heart. I can’t remember the last time someone sent me flowers.”

“Oh. I can bring you some. My flower garden is just starting to bloom.” June was the perfect time for fresh flowers. The first buds were stunning, as if the plant was showing its stuff after striving so hard. She was teaching Bud all the names of the flowers as part of her at-home nature studies. Chase wanted her up and running for school in the fall so she’d bumped up study hour to twice a day. Bud didn’t seem to mind. Chase had a sneaking suspicion that Bud intuited that knowing more would ease up her study burden in the fall.

“That would be great.”

Chase tried another tactic. “So what did you think of Marsha?”’

Bud nudged her. They were starting a new pose. “
Natarajasana
.”

“Which one is that?” Chase whispered.

“The Heil-Hitler-while-trying-to-stick-your-foot-up-your-butt one,” Bud responded.

“Ugh,” Chase said, assuming the pose. Lou was already in position and looked pretty good.

“I thought she was nice. I hope she finds someone. Is she gay? I couldn’t really tell.”

“Not at the moment. She wants to be and she’s lesbian shopping.”

“Well, I’m sure the sheet set will be a pleasant surprise.”

“To everyone but you, and it’s you she has her eye on.”

Lou’s back foot hit the ground with a thud. Peter looked over at her, alarmed. “It’s all right, honey. Mommy just lost her balance.”

“I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that, but I didn’t know what else to do. She’s going to send you flowers and wants to have a long-term relationship.”

There was another thud. Paul, the instructor looked up. “Lou, you can hold on to the side bar if you want. There is no shame in yoga.”

“Uh, no. I’m all right.”

Bud gave Chase a reproachful glance.

“Sorry.”

They didn’t resume their conversation until after class as Bud and Peter were picking up the cockroaches from under the Dixie cups and giving the relocation bag to Paul, who smiled at them benevolently.

“I don’t think dating Marsha is a good idea,” Lou said.

“Maybe after she’s run through a few unsatisfactory girlfriends and gotten enough girl-guide lesbian badges it would be all right, but I really think cardinal Lesbian Rule Number One applies here,” Chase said.

“Don’t date straight women.” Lou nodded sagely.

“Or baby dykes unless you’re hard of heart and can withstand the growing pains.”

“I’m soft-hearted, and I have all the growing pains I need with that little one,” Lou said, as they watched Peter give Bud’s hair a tug and she belted him in the arm. “She’s got a pretty good left.”

“Great. I can see it now. I’ll be going to school to talk about Bud’s aggressive approach to diplomacy.”

They watched as Bud and Peter smiled at each other and came toward them holding hands. “Do you think that was some sort of early childhood courting dance?” Lou said.

“I hope so. If she turns out gay I’m going to be in big trouble.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone will think I brainwashed her into being a lesbian,” Chase said.

Lou seemed to ponder this. “Well, most of us gay people are begotten of straight parents, so according to the stats it would seem Bud has a pretty high chance of being straight coming from two gay parents.”

“Of course, I won’t let her date until she’s at least twenty-five and out of college,” Chase said emphatically.

Lou smiled enigmatically.