Dear Emily (12 page)

He looks at a loss, Emily thought as the attorney rose to see her to the door. “Good luck, Mrs. Thorn.”

“That’s about what it comes down to, Mr. Ostermeyer,” Emily said, her mind on the donuts and coffee that were moments away.

In the parking lot of the donut shop Emily made up her mind that she would go inside and
smell
the baked goods. She wouldn’t buy anything. Or maybe if she absolutely couldn’t resist the temptation, she would buy some of the holes that were sprinkled with powdered sugar. Munchkins, that’s what the holes were called.

Inside she was a kid in a candy shop. She wanted one of everything. “I’ll take a dozen. Four jelly, four Bavarian cream, three Boston cream, and one glazed. A dozen Munchkins. One large coffee, heavy on the cream with three sugars.” Emily wondered if her eyes were as glazed as the donuts in the case. As soon as she got into the car, she was going to rip into the donuts and slurp at the coffee. She slapped the exact amount of money onto the counter, grabbed her bags, and with her rear end backed out through the plate glass door.

Emily was almost into the car, one foot was straddling the seat when she turned around and dumped her purchases into the trash container to the left of her car. “Oh, well,” she sighed. The anticipation of buying the donuts and coffee, and paying for them, was almost as good as tasting them. “So there, Ian, so there.”

It was a milestone. A kind of insurmountable hurdle. She’d come through, her willpower intact. It wasn’t even a setback because she hadn’t weakened. “Atta girl, Emily,” she chortled to herself on the way home.

“Paulena, you’re home. Is everything all right?” Emily asked her new tenant, a widow whose husband hadn’t provided for her.

“Fine. Today is my early day. Tomorrow is my late day.”

“What’s all this?” Emily asked, pointing to an array of bottles.

“When I got off work at the Acme, I went to my part-time job at the health food store and my boss loaded me up with all these vitamins and herbs. He’s good to me that way. I’ll share some with you. There’s a vitamin and herb for everything. If you like, I’ll bring you some books tomorrow. Good nutrition is the key to weight loss. You can make teas from the herbs for sleeping, all kinds of good stuff. I was working at the health food store before my husband died and I learned about all this.”

There was an easy, comfortable familiarity between the two women. Lena, as she preferred to be called, usually arrived home just as Emily was finishing her afternoon stint on her exercise equipment. While she had coffee, Lena had herbal tea and they talked. Emily hoped a friendship would blossom and they would become confidants, best friends.

“I’d like that. I read while I exercise. I suppose I should pay attention to what I’m doing, but it’s easy to walk and read. I’m not losing as much weight as I’d like to lose. I’m sticking to my diet. God, today I bought donuts and then threw them away. Do you believe that?”

Lena hooted. “Sure. We all do dumb things from time to time. Like me trying to bleach my liver spots with Clorox. Now that’s dumb, but I do it anyway.”

“Call them freckles and you’ll feel better about them. They go with your red hair and hazel eyes. Listen, Lena, if you want, you can use my exercise equipment. I ordered a NordicTrack. It should be here this week sometime.”

“That’s kind of you, Emily, thank you. It’s all working out for you, isn’t it? I mean with all the tenants and all. I know it’s a zoo around here at dinnertime, but this past week I saw that most of the kinks are being worked out. I find something very comforting about all of us living under the same roof and doing our best to be considerate of each other.”

“That’s a lovely compliment, Lena. Listen, bring your tea and come into my workout room and talk with me. It will make the time go faster, and when I’m done, you can give it a try.” Emily held her breath, waiting for Lena’s response. Was she moving too fast in her desire to make a friend?

“Sure.”

Emily was up to twenty minutes on the treadmill. Today she stayed on for forty-five minutes without realizing the time. To date, thirty minutes on the exercycle was all she could handle. She lasted an hour. “I should hire you,” she gasped when she dropped to the floor to swig from her water bottle. “Your turn, Lena.”

“I’m tired just watching you. I’ll think about it. Actually, I’m comfortable with my fifteen extra pounds. As long as I’m in reasonable good health and eat right, I’m happy. I hope I’m not stepping over the line here, but you seem to be…obsessed with this program and your diet. I can’t help but see the way you…you know what I mean.”

“I guess I’m an obsessive person. Do you want to know why?”

“Not if it’s going to bother you to talk about it.”

“I won’t know that unless I try. If it bothers me, I’ll stop and continue some other day.”

A long time later, when Lena filched stove time from the tenants to boil water for fresh tea, she said, “Emily, I’m so sorry. It must have been terrible for you.”

“I don’t want to waste the rest of my life. I need to do something. I need to do something to help myself, to prove to myself that I am a worthwhile person. That shrink I went to for a while said I had low self-esteem and he was right. I existed only for Ian. Do you think I’ll ever get over Ian, Lena?”

“I don’t know, Emily. They say time heals all wounds. I still love my husband and I know I’ll never get married again. It’s something I know and feel. I think you’re different, though. Is there anything you want to do with your life? I mean something special?”

“I’ve been taking classes for years now. I only need twelve more credits to get my degree. I thought for a long time that, if I had a degree, I’d be worthy of Ian. Is that sick or what? I can see these things now. Why couldn’t I see them then?”

“You didn’t want to see them, Emily. It was easier to shift into neutral and coast. You trusted Ian and he didn’t come through for you. That doesn’t mean you can’t trust people, another man, in case you meet one. Those white shirts now, that’s something else. You literally created a monster, you know that, don’t you?” Lena giggled.

“Oh, yes, I do know that. Nobody, according to Ian, could iron a white shirt like me. You know, when he left, when I got the letter, I really gave serious thought to taking in ironing. I panicked. I’m still in a state of panic each time I have to pay a bill. I gave myself a year to get it all together.”

“And then?”

“And then I don’t know. I have to think about my future and how I’m going to get by. I want the second half of my life to count for something. I don’t want to look back and say to myself, I should have done this or I shouldn’t have done that. I can’t change the past. At night, when I can’t sleep, I do that and then I really can’t sleep. Everything reminds me of Ian. This room reminds me of him, but it’s the only available space for these machines.”

“Then I say we get rid of everything in this room that reminds you of your husband. I know how to wallpaper. Let’s rip off this oh so manly plaid paper and put something up with some zip to it. I have a portable sewing machine I can let you use if you want to make some new curtains. I’d do valances. You’ll get more light. If this wainscoting is important to you, leave it. If it isn’t, paint it. Make it your room. I’m off this weekend and I can help you.” This last was said so shyly, Emily wrapped Lena in her arms. “I’d love some help if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“Weekends are hard for me. My husband and I used to spend all our time together. I’d probably just read. Besides, the physical exercise will be good for both of us. Do you like this dark carpet?”

“I hate it.”

“We’ll work it in to our project. I can’t wait. I love transformations. Let’s go for a walk if you don’t have anything else to do. I never really walked around Sleepy Hollow. It’s beautiful out here with all the big, old trees. I bet you’re going to get a lot of exercise when the leaves start to fall. I’ll help,” she said magnanimously.

“I accept. A walk would be nice.”

A friendship began, a bond formed that would last both women the rest of their lives.

T
here was a party going on at 47 Sleepy Hollow Road. Balloons and colorful streamers were everywhere. Music blared from Ian’s stereo system throughout the house while a magnificent repast was being prepared in the kitchen.

“I love celebrations,” Lena chortled as she cut the greens for the salad. “Tell me again exactly what we’re celebrating.”

“The list is endless,” Emily said, and laughed, a sound of pure mirth. “First, and most important, we’re celebrating your two years here with me, you and the others. I thought most of the women would be transients, but they’re happy here. I’m just overwhelmed that you all feel this is a nice place to live. We’re celebrating my fifty-pound weight loss even though I reached my goal six weeks ago. We’re celebrating my degree. We’re celebrating the fact that I obliterated Ian’s name from his framed medical diploma and we’re celebrating my Dear Emily letter that hangs in shreds in the workout room.”

“Impressive indeed.” Lena smiled.

“I don’t know if I could have made it without you, Lena. Do you believe the saying that when God closes one door, he opens another?”

“One hundred percent. Moving here was the best thing I ever did. I have more money in the bank than my husband and I ever had at one time in our lives. I’m not saying money is the end-all, but it is security. We have such a wonderful friendship. I guess this was meant to be. When are you going into that bathroom, Emily?” she asked quietly.

Emily’s hands started to shake. “Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I don’t know.”

“You don’t ever have to do it. If you aren’t up to it, Emily, don’t do it. You’ve built this up so in your mind it’s become another obsession for you. Don’t torture yourself. You’ve come a long way to get to this point in time. If it’s something you can’t handle…”

“I can do it, Lena. It’s the timing. I have to work that out in my head. Let’s change the subject. I, for one, cannot wait to sit down to this dinner and stuff myself. When the dishes are cleared away, I’m going to go for that five-mile walk, and when I get home, I’ll do an hour on the NordicTrack to work off more calories. If my eyes aren’t bigger than my stomach, I’m going to have two pieces of apple pie with two scoops of ice cream.”

“You’ve earned it, Emily. Indulgences are fine if you keep them within bounds. You’ve done everything right, your weight loss was slow, your exercise program was just what your body could handle, and you did it on your own. You’re down to six cigarettes a day. Now, that’s something to be proud of. I say we have another party when you finally kick the habit. I’ll cook that dinner.”

“Make that a promise and you have a deal,” Emily said happily.

“It’s a deal, Emily. What time is dinner?”

“Seven. Everyone will be home by then and cleaned up. Listen, Lena, I did something…now I’m not sure if…it was one of those spur-of-the-moment things people usually regret later, but I wanted this to be a bang-up affair. Balloons, streamers, dinner, and a rich dessert didn’t seem like quite enough so I…what I did was…Maybe I can cancel,” she dithered.

“Cancel what? What did you do? Emily, look at me, what did you do?”

Emily took a deep breath. “I hired a male dancer. He’s coming at nine o’clock. He dances on the dining room table. He takes off his clothes. Well, not all of them. I think he wears something skimpy. Oh, God, I thought it would be fun.”

Lena doubled over laughing. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she removed the granny glasses she wore perched on her nose. “Emily, you have come a long, long way. I think it’s great. Does he gyrate and do we put five-dollar bills in his…whatever…”

“I guess we could,” Emily said weakly. “I have to tip him. Yes, yes, let’s do that. I have some five-dollar bills. I went to the bank yesterday. I think we should hoot and holler like they do on television.”

“Absolutely,” Lena gasped. “They gyrate right up against your face. I saw that on television.”

“Don’t tell me that!”

“You hired him so you’re the one he’ll do that to. Oh, I can’t wait to see this. Nice going, Emily! I thought you said we were going for a walk after the kitchen was cleaned up.”

“I lied.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What is it?” Lena giggled.

“The Liberated Stud.”

“I like that,” Lena said with a straight face.

“You do!”

“I guess that means he’s uninhibited, loose as a goose, that kind of thing.”

“I have a picture. He sent one in the mail when I called him. He said it was a professional shot. He has…he said he has a portfolio.”

“Well, let’s see it!”

Emily reached into the cabinet where she kept the trash bags and withdrew a manila envelope. She licked at her lips as Lena cackled gleefully, smacking her hands in anticipation.

“What do you think?”

“Oh, myyyy Goddddd,”
Lena said, holding the glossy photograph this way and that way. “On his best day, my husband never looked like this. How about you, Emily?”

“Ian couldn’t measure up anywhere near this guy. Even when he was twenty. Does this make us two dirty old women?”

“Yeahhh, but who cares? If you have an old frame lying around, I think you should stick this in it and put it on the dining room table so we can all look at it when we’re eating.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m serious. I wouldn’t know what to do with someone like that, would you, Emily?”

“I’d make it up as I went along. Listen, we’re in our forties. That doesn’t mean we’re dead. I bet we could teach him a few things. These young hunks think women are going to be so mesmerized with their perfect bodies they aren’t going to want anything but…you know. Guys like him probably don’t know how to please a woman. Did your husband please you, Lena?”

“He tried. He wasn’t…ah…adventuresome. How about Ian?”

“Sometimes it was good. Most times it was for him. A lot of times he was too tired and I got to the point where I refused to ask because I didn’t want to be told he was tired. Hey, I was born tired, but I did…do like sex. You?”

“How can you like something you never really had? My husband thought foreplay was something only hookers and johns practiced. He was very straightlaced, but I loved him.”

Emily stared at her friend. “But? There’s always a but.”

“No buts. Now, where’s that frame?”

“Upstairs on the hall table. Lordy, it’s almost time for everyone to come home.”

Dinner was a festive affair with many toasts to the photograph of the oiled body flexing his muscles in the center of the table. When the dishes were done and the dining room chairs were placed in a semicircle far enough back into the room to afford a good view of the dancer, Emily poured fresh wine into long-stemmed flutes. “We’re ready!” Lena bobbed her head. “He brings his own music.”

“How long is he going to dance?” a library assistant from the Plainfield Library asked.

“An hour,” Emily said happily. “When you want more, just ask.”

“Does he wear a cape?” a nurse’s aide said.

“He starts
out
with a cape.”

“I hope he wears feathers around his ankles. I think that’s sexy,” Kelly said. “Do you know, Emily?”

“If you want feathers, I can go upstairs and take some out of a pillow. Lena knows how to sew so she can string them together.”

“That’s okay. I’ll pretend he’s wearing feathers.”

“I hope he throws his pelvis out a lot. Lots of bump-and-grind stuff. Do you realize, ladies, that women have finally come to a place in time where we can do something like this? Before it was men with hookers at stag parties. I say we exploit this guy, heckle the hell out of him. Just the way they do to women.”

Martha Nesbit laughed uproariously. “I want to borrow that picture so I can put it on my desk tomorrow morning. I want all the salesmen to see it when they come in. I’m gonna say he was my date for this evening.”

Emily poured more wine.

The Liberated Stud arrived promptly at nine. The women gave a collective gasp of approval before he banished them to the kitchen so he could “get ready.”

In the kitchen the women, half drunk and still drinking, let go of their inhibitions and cackled in delight. “Did you see those loins?” “You read too many romance novels.” “Rippling thighs.” “Ohhh, I like that.” “Sleek.” “Did you see that wry grin? He’s gonna get off on us, you wait and see.”

“Emily, this is the best idea, the very
best.
We are all going to dream about this tonight. I love living here, Emily. We’re like sisters. I can’t wait to go to work tomorrow. You’re taking pictures, right?”

“Oh, my God, I don’t have a camera. I should have thought about that,” Emily wailed. “Of course we want to take pictures. How could I have forgotten something so important?”

“I have a Polaroid camera,” the assistant librarian said. “I’ll just scoot up the back staircase and get it.”

“Hurry,” they called in unison.

Emily uncorked another bottle of wine. They liked living here. The women liked her as a person. They thought of themselves as sisters. They liked what she planned. Everyone was happy. For once she’d done something right. There was no Ian to criticize her. And when the night was over, there would be no one to say, dear Emily, don’t forget to iron my white shirts. She was giddy when she saw Zoë Meyers trot into the kitchen waving the camera. Emily immediately filled her wineglass.

“Oh my God!” they cried in unison when a trumpet beckoned them into the dining room.

“He has clothes on,” the assistant librarian complained as she tried to focus the camera.

“It’s one of those Velcro suits that come apart at the seams,” Emily hissed, never taking her eyes off the dancer in the middle of her dining room table.

A cane with a sparkling knob at the end snaked downward to press the button of his tape deck. Loud music, runway music, stripping music, blasted into the room. The women sat back.

He danced. He pranced. He gyrated. The sleeves came off his jacket. The rest of the jacket followed in slow, tantalizing motions, the dancer never losing a beat. Emily felt her forehead bead with sweat. She wondered if she was going to slide off her chair.

“Take it off,” Nancy Beckenridge shouted hoarsely.

“Everyyyyything!”
Lena tittered.

“Let’s see what you got,” Kelly Anderson leered.

He showed them. His pants sailed over his shoulder in one swift, fluid motion. His red satin jock strap pulsated. The women clapped enthusiastically. Zoë whistled between her teeth. Lena hooted, and so did Emily. They all stamped their feet.

He was off the table in the blink of an eye and then he was in front of them.

“He’s going to throw his back out,” Martina, the nurse’s aide, whispered.

“Who cares?” Kelly said, reaching out to touch his oiled thigh. She squealed her pleasure. She recoiled at once when he thrust out his pelvis. Emily tweaked the elastic on the jock strap. “Is this a jock strap?” she asked hoarsely.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” he leaned over to whisper. He did a wild series of bumps and grinds ending with a thrust of his pelvis in Emily’s face.

Emily did something then she never thought she would ever do. She cupped both her hands and brought them up like a cradle to cup the quivering red satin. The girls stamped their feet and hooted their approval. Her eyes wild, Emily smashed her face against the mass in her hands.

“Ooohhh,
that feels
gooodddd,”
the Stud said, a wicked grin on his face.

“My turn, my turn,” the others called. Emily dropped her hands and pushed her chair back. Suddenly the camera was being thrust at her. She snapped and snapped and kept right on snapping until the dancer was back on her dining room table whereupon she thrust the camera back into Zoë’s hands.

My God, did she just…yes you did, Emily Thorn, you grabbed that guy’s balls and mashed your face in them. And you liked it, didn’t you? Damn right I did, she said, swallowing hard.

And then it was over and the Stud was wearing a red satin cape that matched his outfit. The raucous music ended and was replaced with Paul McCartney singing “My Love.” The Stud jumped from the table, landing in front of Emily. “Mrs. Thorn, would you do me the honor of sharing this dance with me?”

She fit perfectly in his arms. “Did you get your money’s worth, Mrs. Thorn?” he whispered.

“Yes, yes, I did. You gave an excellent performance. My friends enjoyed it immensely. Perhaps someday when we’re celebrating something, we’ll call you again. With a different routine, of course.”

“Of course,” he said, cradling her against him. “I have a wicked yellow Speedo that will drive those women to the brink.”

Emily smiled up at him. “It was a fun evening. You’re going to dance with all of them, aren’t you.”

“Yes. I try my best to leave everyone happy.”

“You succeeded. Your turn, Lena,” she said, stepping aside.

Emily watched as he danced with each woman to the strains of “I’ve Been Waiting for a Girl Like You.”

When the tape deck was packed in his huge duffle bag, Emily asked if he would like a glass of wine.

“Sorry, I have another gig at ten-thirty. Listen, I don’t know if you’re interested or not, but I sell a set of my pictures. Twenty bucks for twenty pictures.”

They each bought a set.

Before he left, he kissed each of them on the cheek.

When the door closed behind him, Emily said, “He’s some mother’s son. I thought he was rather gallant, all things considered. What
are
we going to do with these pictures? Ohhh, I
like
this one.”

“I have an idea,” Lena said. “Let’s make a border of them in the kitchen. We can use wallpaper paste. Eye level, of course, and we can stare at them as much as we want. We have six sets. They should cover every wall in the kitchen.”

“Sterling idea,” Emily said. “Let’s do it now. Tomorrow we won’t have the nerve. The paste is in the workroom closet.”

“It’s crooked,” Nancy said two hours later, “but I like it. I think we should get that one with Emily blown up to poster size and put it on the back of the kitchen door. Let’s vote.”

“I’ll take it to that one-hour photo place,” Lena volunteered. “I think posters take about a week.”