Fag Hag (Robert Rodi Essentials) (13 page)

She left the lounge and started for the stairs. Sandy was there waiting for her. “Well? Well?” she stage-whispered. “What’s she doing now?”

“Smoking crack.”

“Don’t you make fun!” A glimmer of hope lit her face. “She isn’t really, is she?”

“Mom—Christ!”

A few minutes later, Natalie had set up the Candyland board and even persuaded her mother to join the game. Darnita enjoyed it so much that she couldn’t stop giggling, and the sound of her laughter was like an elfin machine gun.

“She’s very cute,” Sandy said later over coffee, after Darnita had settled down to watch TV.

“Yes,” said Natalie, “but a little too old for Candyland. She grasped it right away. What is she, eight? You can move her up to more challenging games. We have a Chinese checkers set here, don’t we? Also, she’s the perfect age for jigsaw puzzles. What books was she reading?”

“She found some of your old ones. All those etiquette books I used to give you in vain.”

“Fine. Let her find her own level, Mom. That’s really what she’s here for. What you have to offer, more than anything else, is your home and your example. Just relax and enjoy her and let her take everything in.”

“She’s really
very
cute,” said Sandy. “If she’d just say the
f
word in front of Greta Ledbetter, she’d be perfect.”

Natalie shook her head in resignation.

“You’re good with children, darling,” Sandy continued. “You really ought to have some, someday. You’re not getting any younger. How are things progressing with Peter?”

Immediately, Natalie’s face fell into a scowl. “You’ll be glad to know I’ve finally given up on him.”

“Oh, no! Say you haven’t!”

“What do you mean? You’ve been after me to dump him ever since you heard he wasn’t in love with me.”

“Yes, but that was before I made him cry. That was such a touching thing for him to do. I kept thinking, Look at that sensitive boy—what a lovely son-in-law-he’d make.”

“Well, don’t count on it, Mom.” She paused. “He’s gay.”

Sandy stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending. “Pardon?”

“He’s a homosexual. And yes, I knew it from the day I met him.”

She sighed and sat back in her chair. “Oh, Natalie.”

“I know. I know what you’re going to say.”

“Well, that’s more than I know. I’m speechless.” She shook her head. “You’ve been chasing a homosexual for, what—two years now?”

“He was worth chasing.”

She looked at her daughter with unbearable pity. “My poor baby.”

“Don’t, Mom. I knew the risks.”

“But you didn’t believe them.”

“No, I didn’t believe them.”

Sandy looked at her shoes, then up again. “Well, I’m glad you’ve put him behind you. But two years is a lot of lost time to make up for. Do you have any idea what you’ll be doing now? For dates, I mean.”

“Not quite yet. And if you bring up Hank Bixby, I’ll break your kneecaps. But before I get on with my life, I have a little unfinished business with Peter.”

“Say,” said Sandy, brightening. “Maybe I can fix him up with Frederick Kelsey!”

“Who’s that?”

“I told you; the man in our Accessorizers Anonymous group.”

She rolled her eyes. “Mom, I guarantee you, Peter Leland would never go out with any man who lived with his mother in the suburbs and spent all his earnings on pocket squares. Besides which, he’s already involved with someone. Seemingly for the long run.”
Accent on the seemingly,
she said to herself.

“Oh, really? What’s he like?”

“Well, if you must know, it’s Lloyd Hood. Calvin’s friend.”

She was thunderstruck. “Lloyd Hood, the gun merchant? Is a fairy?”

“He’s gay, yes.”

“And he’s Peter’s boyfriend now?”

Natalie nodded.

“Well, this is a day for surprises!” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Does Calvin know?”

“Probably not. Damn, I meant to call him; he’s back now, right?”

“Yes, he and Vera arrived home two days ago. You mean you haven’t phoned him?”

“No, I just said I haven’t.”

She grimaced. “All right, young lady. Now that this Peter nonsense is over, I want to see you straighten up a bit. You can start by respecting yourself a little, but you can continue by respecting your family. I don’t want to chide you too harshly, because you were good enough to run over here for me this morning, no questions asked. But your brother and his bride were both deeply hurt by your snubbing them at the wedding, and now, not even to call them after they’ve returned from the honeymoon—that’s sheer rudeness. You call them today. I’m putting my foot down.”

“I will, I promise.”

She looked at the clock. “I should start getting tea ready. Would you like to stay? You’ve never met Greta Ledbetter, have you?”

“Thanks, but I’d better get home. Things to do.”

She got her jacket, gave a goodbye pet to Carmen DeFleur (who had been very busy tearing all the ribbons off her fur), and headed for the door. Sandy held it open for her. “Thank you for coming, darling.”

“Sure, Mom.”

“And thank you for opening up to me. I love you for it.”

Natalie blinked. What a surprising thing to say! “Well—I love you too.”

Suddenly Sandy reached out and hugged her, and she found herself hugging back.

A little flurry of emotion whipped itself up from nowhere and threatened to grow larger; Natalie pushed herself away. “Well,” she said, making an effort to seem unaffected, “you have fun with your ‘granddaughter’ today.”

“I’ll try. Maybe I can get her into some of your raggedy old clothes by the time Greta gets here.”

“Let me know how that works out for you. ‘Bye, Mom.”

“‘Bye, dear.”

She shut the door, and Natalie walked to the train station.

T
HERE WERE TWO
messages from Peter waiting on Natalie’s answering machine when she got home; each urged her to call him at once. She ignored them; he would just want to wax eloquent about Lloyd, and she couldn’t stomach that. Instead, she dialed her brother.

“Hi, Tubs,” he said merrily. It was his childhood nickname for her; she’d never been able to break him of it.

“How was paradise?” she asked. “Did it agree with the newly connubialed?”

He laughed. “Thought I’d have to
drag
her back. What’s up?”

She winced. Was it that obvious she wanted something from him? Was it so impossible that she should ever phone him just to chat?

She resolved to change that. But for the moment, she had to give in. “I called to ask you about Lloyd Hood.”

“How on earth do you know Lloyd Hood?”

“From your wedding, moron.”

“Oh, yeah. That.” He paused. “Kind of weird to think that everyone in my life now knows everyone else.”

“Well, we do. Matter of fact, I had dinner at Lloyd’s house last night.”

“No way!”

“What do you mean, ‘no way’? I did so!”

“You and Lloyd Hood? That’s like Oliver North dating Bette Midler.”

“Fuck you. I hope your sunburn stings like poison.”

“It’s deep, dark, and painless, Tubs.” He laughed.

“For your information, Lloyd and I aren’t dating. I’m not his type.”

“I should say not!”

“My friend Peter, you remember him?”

“Your date at the wedding, sure. Guy Vera couldn’t keep her eyes off of.”

“Really?”

“Thought she’d change her mind about me right at the altar. She was really smitten. Must’ve asked me a million questions about you and him. Guy almost ruined my honeymoon.”

“Well, I have some intel you can pass on to her.”

“What?”

“He’s
Lloyd’s type.”

“Come again?”

“They’re fucking, Cal.”

A long silence. “This some kind of sick joke?”

“I wish it were.”

“You’re full of shit, Natalie.”

“Look, Lloyd Hood is gay, and at present he’s proving it all over my friend Peter.”

“Bullshit.”

“Why would I lie?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

She carried the phone to the kitchen and got a Diet Coke from the refrigerator. She was actually enjoying this.

“Cal? You still there?” She popped the can open.

“Yes.” A pause. “You expect me to believe Lloyd Hood is actually…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

“When was the last time you saw him with a woman?” She took a sip of the soda. It was like her mood: bitter, acid, cold…yet bubbly.

“That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“That’s got
everything
to do with it.”

“We didn’t exactly socialize.”

“I believe it!”

“I’ve shot target practice with that guy! We’ve shot traps at the gun club!”

“Now,
that’s
got nothing to do with it.”

Calvin let out a sigh. “Well. This is something. I don’t know what to say.”

“Does it matter to you?”

The longest silence yet. “It shouldn’t. I guess not. I mean—hell, I don’t know. No reason for it to. Is there?”

“Just when you think you know someone,” she said, beginning to nudge him in the direction she wanted. “You have to wonder what he was thinking all those times you were shooting craps.”

“Traps. And yeah. He should’ve told me, you know?”

“Bet he told you everything else.” Nudge, nudge.

“Oh—I don’t know about that. I mean all he really ever goes on about is, y’know, income tax and liberty and the Constitution and all that. I guess I thought he was a pretty decent guy because he’s such a good shot.”

“So he never told you anything else about his life?”
That I can use against him?

“No. Guess I thought there wasn’t much to tell, y’know? Someone talks night and day about free enterprise, you don’t get the idea they’re live wires on the dance floor, you read me?”

“Yeah,” she said, sighing. This was no good. Calvin could tell her nothing.

“I suppose it’s as much my fault as his. He never told, but I never asked.” Another pause. “What’s his house like, anyway?”

“Spare, masculine, hundred percent quality. Like Thomas Jefferson lives there or something.”

“Goddamn! That’s what I’d have thought! I can’t believe that guy’s a fag.”

“He’s gay, Cal. A homosexual. But he is definitely
not
a fag. Trust me, there’s a difference.”

“Huh. Learn something new every day.”

“This is true.”

“I
am
kind of pissed he didn’t tell me, though. I mean, I invited the guy to my wedding.”

“So confront him! Bet you could wangle an invitation to dinner with him and his new boyfriend.”

“Man, this is just
weird.”

“Well, I just wanted to see what you thought about it. I’m having a little trouble with it, myself.”

“Oh, Christ! I didn’t even think! Did you know about Peter?”

“More or less.”

“Still, must be rough.”

“Yeah. It’s that.”

“Sorry, Tubs. I’ve been all wrapped up in my honeymoon and shit, when I should’ve been here for you to talk to.”

She was stunned. “Cal! What a sweet thing to say!”

“Well, I
am
your brother. I want you to be as happy as me and Vera.”

“Someday, I’m sure.”

“You gonna be okay?”

“Oh, please! I’m not some shrinking violet.”

“Y’know, Mom told me about Hank Bixby, an—”

She screamed.

“What? What did I say?”

“What do you think? Mom should just mind her own goddamn—”

“Seems like a great guy, Tubs, he—”

She screamed again.

He laughed. “It seems you aren’t entirely open to discussion of the matter. Never mind, gotta run anyway—I’m picking up Vera at the tanning parlor in ten minutes. She’s determined not to lose her base coat.”

“Give her my love. Tell her I’m sorry I wasn’t more, y’know, sisterly or whatever at the wedding.”

“Like she would’ve noticed,” he scoffed.

“What? You mean—she didn’t?”

“Tubs, she was the bride. Had people pawing at her all night.”

“But Mom said you were both offended that I didn’t—”

“Mom
was the one offended,” he blurted. “I can’t believe she tried to put that on our backs! No, you were fine. We didn’t need you being all clingy or whatever. Glad to just see you out there having fun.”

Natalie couldn’t help steaming over her mother’s duplicity. “I’m so glad we had this little chat, Cal.”

“Me, too. See you soon?”

“Sure. ‘Bye.”

As soon as she’d clicked off, the phone rang. She didn’t have to guess too hard who
that
might be. Well, Mr. Leland could just call till the cows came home. She had better things to do.

She tossed away her empty Diet Coke can and left the apartment. It was still light out and she strolled up Broadway, looking in shop windows without really seeing, rehearsing fights with her mother in which she skewered her with righteous sarcasm and reduced her to a heap of sobs.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Natalie Stathis,” said someone coming upon her at a corner.

She looked up and met Kirk Bergland’s big, shining eyes. He was an old friend who had once had an unrequited crush on Peter. He wasn’t very attractive, and far too eager to please, but he idolized Natalie and, at this point she felt like taking advantage of that.

“Kirk, darling,” she said, gripping him by the shoulders and air-kissing his cheeks.
“Quelle surprise!”

“And how is the most beautiful woman in the world?” he asked, outrageously.

She was about to take offense until she saw in his face that he had meant it to please her. He wasn’t enormously witty, that’s all. “Oh, you evil thing,” she said, patting her hair. “You’ll turn my head, I declare you will.”

“Out shopping?” he asked as they resumed walking.

“Just strolling,” she said flirtatiously. “Hoping some nice young gentleman will come along and offer me a drink.”

“Done!”

An hour later, half tanked at Sidetrack, her ego was completely restored. Kirk had flattered her so ridiculously that she was all aglow, even though she knew he hadn’t an ounce of sexual interest in her.

“So tell me about Peter,” he said, sucking down another Manhattan. Kirk knew how to drink.