The Numbers Game (51 page)

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Authors: Frances Vidakovic

BOOK: The Numbers Game
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            Once again
what was the point of being in first class if she couldn’t actually see it?
After all, Tabitha couldn’t exactly imagine reporting the following in
confidence:

           
“Yes
the seats, now they felt really big. I don’t know whether they were leather or
anything but they felt like real leather and I could comfortably put my feet up
to rest. As for my compatriots, I can’t be sure whether there was anybody
famous but they all sounded educated and posh enough.”

            “I need to
go to the bathroom,” Tabitha piped up, when the remains of her five star meal
got swept up not two minutes after being placed in front of her.  That was
another cute story to share with friends, how less satisfying barbequed salmon
and miniature artichokes tasted when spoon-fed.

            “Of
course, let me just get you out of here.” Rick said as he unclipped his
seatbelt and then hers as well. She wasn’t sure but she had a sneaking
suspicion he was planning to carry her to the bathroom…and why not, it sure
would complete the total invalid look.

            “I think I
will get the air hostess to help me this time,” Tabitha informed Rick, just in
case.

            “Excuse
me?” Rick seemed to freeze mid-air. “Why on earth would an air hostess help you
to the bathroom when you have a perfectly good pretend fiancée at your
service?”

            “Because
in this instance a little privacy is called for.” Tabitha rubbed her stomach. “Do
you mind pressing the call button for me dear?”

            “All
right, all right.” Tabitha could hear Rick caving in. “Just this once I’ll let
you out of my sight. But next time I’m in the cubicle with you. So remember
that before you request and scoff down more than your fair share of complimentary
dinner mints.”

            “I’ll
remember,” Tabitha promised, fingers crossed behind her back. By then the
blindfold would be long since flushed down the suction airplane toilet anyway.

 

 

 

Surprisingly Rick
didn’t complain at all when Tabitha returned to her seat minus the blindfold,
nor did he take up her offer to extract it from the toilet.

            “Why don’t
we leave that for people who get paid to clean toilets?”

            “So you’re
not angry?” Tabitha said, raising an eyebrow.

            She had
expected a full scale attack - at the very least something inherently more interesting
than simply the stern teachers look. Not that it wasn’t worth it; stripping off
the blindfold had made Tabitha feel normal once again. Not only did she get to
locate and collect some of the gorgeous first class bathroom accessories (think
peppermint paste on a tortoiseshell toothbrush and Estee Lauder cleanser and
moisturizer samples) but Tabitha also put her lipstick and concealer to good
use. And boy did she need it! The final transformation looked like it belonged
on the Oprah Special Makeover Show.

            “No, why
would I be angry?” Rick beamed his cheery smile.  “I’m amazed you even went
along with the hostage routine as long as you did. Plus I get to see your
beautiful blue eyes again. Sounds to me like a win, win situation.”

            “Good then
you won’t mind if I just ignore you while the plane prepares for touch down.
It’s been a while since I saw LA by candlelight.”

            It had
been a while since Tabitha last saw LA at all but why make Rick’s head any bigger
than it needed to be?

            As per
schedule, the plane landed in the city of angels just after eight o’clock.
Tabitha realized then, as the fastened seatbelts sign flashed off and
passengers started pulling out their baby Louis Vuitton suitcases from the overhead
cabinets that she had no idea what she was doing here. It couldn’t possibly be
anything too exciting if Rick let her go in a skanky black sweater and skanky
black pants. If it weren’t for the gifts she took from the first class bathroom
Lord only knows what Tabitha would’ve done re: her skincare and teeth
maintenance overnight.

She was
staying overnight, she assumed. By the time Rick finished showing her whatever
surprise he had in store for her it’d be too late to catch a flight back.  As
for nightwear, Tabitha cringed. What would she do for nightwear? Tabitha
couldn’t very well sleep in what she had on (even though they looked like
pajamas) nor with what she had on underneath (think white cotton bra and
panties washed so often it had holes in it. Tabitha liked to be comfortable
during her wallowing periods).

            So began
the next round of questions…

            “Where are
you taking me now? Why are we getting in a limo? Why are you pouring me wine?
Where the hell are we going?”

            It wasn’t
as if Rick was able to deport her back to San Francisco now.

            “Tabitha!”
Rick bellowed, “Can you not be quiet for one second? A surprise is supposed to
be just that – a surprise, something you don’t know anything about. Think you
can wait another ten minutes for it to be unveiled?”

            “Ten
minutes? Why didn’t you say so before? It makes a complete difference when I
know what timeframe I’m dealing with.”

            “Whatever,”
Rick replied. Tabitha’s temporary tranquil act wasn’t fooling anyone.

            True to
his word however, ten minutes later the luxury limousine pulled to a stop in
front of a Spanish-looking villa. Hitherto Tabitha had been trying to keep
track of where she was heading by spying street signs – like Hollywood ten
miles, Rodeo Drive five, but had given up when darkness swallowed most of them
in one gulp. She could only guess that they were in the ritzier part of the
city. The houses here were well-spaced out and heralded by lush green lawns a
mile long, with trees in shapes of famous Italian sculptures posed upon them.

            “Are we
visiting someone?” Tabitha dared to ask. Because if they were there sure didn’t
seem to be anyone at home at the moment. The villa looked very, very empty.

            “Sort
of…”Rick said, climbing out of the limo and offering Tabitha his arm. He nodded
to the driver, who tilted his cap in return and pulled away from the curb once
Tabitha was safely ejected.

            “Our car…”
Tabitha said sadly, as the last remnant of all that first class treatment
trailed off into the distance.

            “Don’t
worry, Tabitha. I promise you it will be back.”

            Rick took
her by the hand, patted it reassuringly and then led her up the red-tiled path.
Tabitha spied the faintly glowing floodlights sprinkled along the sides, which probably
made the long pathway look absolutely enchanting when the owners turned it on.
But to turn it on, they’d have to be expecting us wouldn’t they? God only knew
what loonies Rick was dragging her to see.

            “Okay,” he
said, once they reached the door. “Now I’m going to need you to shut your eyes
like before. No cringing either, it’s important.”

            “Fine,
fine,” Tabitha grumbled. It was probably better that they were shut just in
case he was about to summon vampires from their coffins.

            Waiting
for a doorbell to sound, Tabitha was surprised to hear none. All she heard was
the sound of a hand rustling for keys from a pocket, keys being inserted into
door, door opening with no inside assistance. Now this was getting a bit
suspicious. Tabitha opened one eye –secretly, only a tincy, tiny bit - to see
Rick disappearing inside. Five seconds later, the lights on the landing came
on, along with the set dancing down the pathway.

            “Ta-da!”
Rick jumped in front of Tabitha. “You can open your eyes now; it’s time to go
inside.”

            “Where are
we?” Tabitha demanded, stepping into the villa which automatically doubled in
size once inside. It was then she realized that they had to be in some swish
suburb like Bel Air or Beverly Hills. Normal houses didn’t have fountains nor
did they have televisions suspended from the ceiling. 

            “It’s our
new home, silly. See this is your kitchen,” he said, rushing to the far left
corner. “Our kitchen, I mean. Down that corridor are the separate ‘his and her’
offices, outside is the swimming pool. Serena said you really love swimming.
Take a look around and see if it’s been designed to your taste. I got an
interior decorator from Home and Garden to do it for you. You’ve got nothing
against earthy colors I gathered from your place.”

            Tabitha
nodded, still too shocked for words. The place looked amazing, a perfect
balance between eclectic cultural object d'art and urban sophistication. It was
like someone had clicked a picture of her fantasy home, stored up till now only
in her head, and set about making it a reality.

            “But…what
do you mean it’s my place? I don’t live here; I’ve never even been here.”

            “I know
that; I hope though that you’re comfortable with the choices I’ve made. If
anything I just want you to feel at home.”

            At home?
None of this was making sense.

            “Do you
mean to say you expect me to live here? With you?” Tabitha stared at Rick who
was only quite happy to stare back.

            “What’s
wrong with that?”

            “Nothing
really, apart from the fact that up until now I half-hated your guts. Oh and
let’s not forget that my whole life is based in San Francisco.”

            “You don’t
have to move right away,” Rick insisted. “You can take your time, a week, a
month, even a year if you need it. Either way, the house and I aren’t going
anywhere.”

            Tabitha
tried to take this all in. The house, she had to admit, was to die for and it
certainly was catered to her need. Not many other women would appreciate a
bear’s head hanging over the fireplace or that didgeridoo on display in the
corner. It was as though it had Tabitha’s name written all over it.

            “Maybe I
should take a look around the rest of the house,” she said, as if this might
have some impact on her decision. More time to make Rick suffer a bit too.

            But the
more she walked, the more Tabitha fell in love with everything. The walk-in
closet, the “his/her” basins in all three bathrooms, the mini gymnasium in the
pool house…. How could she even begin to pretend this wasn’t the place she was
born to live in?

            “You
really bought this all for me?” she exclaimed, no longer able to keep her
excitement in. Tabitha rushed to Rick and flung her arms around his neck, as if
he were Santa Claus.

            “Does it
look like a house a bachelor would ordinarily live in?”

            “No, no it
doesn’t. So you’re serious, about me coming to live here? This isn’t some cruel
trick you’re playing on me?”

            Rick
laughed.

            “It’s nice
to see you enthusiastic for a change. And the answer is yes, I’m serious and
no, it’s not a cruel joke. Does that mean you are willing to take me up on my
offer? ”

            “Mmm…let
me consider it once again.” 

            Tabitha
scanned beyond the backyard fence, which was now illuminated by lights to see
if there were any camels and desert sand in the horizon. Nup, there weren’t any
which meant she could offload her “this is just an oasis” fear. She pinched her
arm and was pleased to see another red lesion coming to surface, which left
only one thing to mull over… Rick: the heartbreaker, the insensitive hound.
Could Tabitha live with the fact that in all probability he would eventually
act like a dickhead again? Could she deal with the dizzy spells that surfaced
whenever the word commitment and marriage came up in conversation –and they would
most likely come up way more often when a couple lived together?

            “I think
so,” she said, burying her head into the nook of his neck. After all there was
the creamy velvet couch she could always retire to, the treadmill on which she
could release all her pent-up angry energy…In the worst case scenario, Tabitha
and Rick would surely be able to fall back on the mutual love that naturally
grows between friends over time.

            Yes that
was it; she would fall back on love if she had to.

 

 

Chapter 36

 

 

Now Serena would like
to say when the three month break was up, she jumped up and down with joy and then
went on to live happily ever after with Markie. But this was real life and not
some fairy tale.

            The truth
was when Markie lugged his suitcases back through the front door her heart did
leap a tiny bound. It was nothing lofty enough to qualify for national level
high jumps (to the contrary, her spine would surely have sent the pole crashing
to the ground). But it was a start. A sign that Serena did still have a
seedling of feeling for Markie buried deep inside, and given time she could
unearth it, replant and water it until it blossomed into a strong impressive
creature called love.

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