Shy Charlotte’s Brand New Juju (Romantic Comedy) (11 page)

“Just look at yourself. I don’t see how you can’t see it.”

Charlotte looked down, as though she would be treated to a
brand new sexy sight, one she didn’t know too well already. She sighed.

“That man. Your ex... He really did a numeral on you, didn’t
he?”

A number? Had he done a number on her? “How do you know
anything about him?” she asked.

He brought his arm up to rub the back of his neck, exposing
a rather magnificent bicep. “Fiona told me. All about him.”

“Don’t tell me you go to Fiona to get your hair done, too.”
She laughed.

He ran his hand over his shiny baldness. “No. I do this
myself in the shower. If you can believe it. I lather it all up. And then I
shave it with my razor. Every morning, it’s smooth as a baby’s head.”

“Butt.”  

“What?”

“The expression is ‘smooth as a baby’s butt.’”

“No, you cannot feel my butt. Not yet.” Leopold winked.

She was alarmed to realize that she was kind of flirting
with this man. Her mind raced to think of something to say that would her help
change tracks. “So how do you know my sister?”

“She was a….client once.”

“Oh.” What kind of client? She wanted to ask but didn’t.

“I helped her feel better about herself. But it was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before…what is her husband’s name?”

“Kamal.”  

“Yes, it was before Kamal.”   

“So you were her Confidence Coach?”

“Yes. Something like that.” He rolled his shoulders back.
“Fiona says if I had not helped her, if I had not taught her a few things, she
would never be married.”

“Taught her a few things? Like how to swing a kettle bell?”

He winked. “Something like that. Yes.”

“So are these things you could teach me, as well?” The words
were out before she realized they should have stayed inside.

He slid his eyes over her face. “Are you sure you are ready?”

“Nope.” She laughed.

 “How about we start with dinner. Tomorrow. Instead of our
workout.”

Ah. She had failed him as a personal training client, so he
would now need to transition her into his other business.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, actually,” she said.

“It’s not an idea. It’s an order. From your confidence
coach. It’s a…how do you say? A
prescription
. A confidence
prescription.”

“Oh, well…”

“Don’t worry. All will be well. I will behave myself.”

“Oh I know.” She blushed.

“So, tomorrow then.”

He took her hand in his. It was smooth, like his head, and,
she thought, perhaps like his butt. He truly was the sexiest unattractive man
she had ever met. And if he were a Confidence Coach, what would be the harm? It
wasn’t a date. It was a continuation of their discussion, of her coaching. It
was a
prescription.

As she turned to go, he hollered after her. “I will come to
Fiona’s at eight tomorrow to take you to a restaurant. Wear a dress.”

***

The preschool smelled particularly earwaxy the next day, and
her stomach rolled first one way and then another. Why was she so nervous for
her evening with Leopold? Surely it would beat working out. These thoughts
buzzed through her mind as a crisp voice erupted into the room’s dull roar.  “Today,
little ones, Cowboy Rob is going to show you some magic tricks.”

Fiona’s boyfriend stood near the front of the room, stomping
his Tony Lamas and clapping his hands for attention. Some days, he was
Astronaut Rob, others Truck Driver Rob or Train Conductor Rob. Apparently, the
cowboy getup was failing to capture the children’s attention as the other
costumes had.

The preschoolers continued to bustle and shove one another
around the room. Theirs was a Montessori-style school, which, in Tabitha’s
interpretation, simply meant that no one needed to follow directions, ever.
They could wander from one “student-led learning adventure” to another, while
Tabitha and her friends played on their phones in the corner.

Cowboy Rob stepped it up. “Today’s magic show is going to be
about…fire!”

The kids turned then, all at once, and then they plopped
into criss-cross-applesauce, right where they stood.

While he had their attention, Cowboy Rob hurried to the
miniature sink, and yanked open the overhead cupboard. He pulled out a tin of
Zippo lighter fluid and plucked his wallet from his back pocket. Then he doused
the leather billfold with the fluid.

“What’s that, Cowboy Rob?” Jack Peters asked in a breathy
voice.

“It’s… fire juice.”

Charlotte stood with her hand over her mouth. What on earth
was she witnessing?

“What’s…fire juice?” asked Tyler Smith.

“It’s a special liquid that makes things catch fire.”

The kids let out a collective series of gasps and sighs,
wows and woahs.

Cowboy Rob turned his wide-mouth grin to Charlotte and
winked. “They act like they’ve never seen fire juice before.” He bounced on his
heels and turned again to address the group. “I’ll bet you all even have some
around your house. If your dad has a charcoal grill, then you have some, too. Not
just like this, but something very similar.”

Charlotte edged toward Tabitha.  “Isn’t this an incredibly
dangerous thing to do? Fire can get out of hand so quickly and I don’t think we
should by instructing kids how to play with it.”

Tabitha flicked her eyes toward the ceiling. “Let Rob do his
thing,” she whispered.

“Seriously? You think this is a good idea?”

“Oh, this is just Rob’s rather dramatic lead in to tell the
kids about fire safety.”

“By playing with fire?”

“It got their attention, didn’t it?” She folded her arms.
“On second thought, this might be just one of his magic tricks. But the kids
are loving it, so, either way.”

Just then, Cowboy Rob lit a match. Pwoof. A sound like a blowtorch
and then Cowboy Rob was smacking his wallet against his pants. His eyes were
crossed and his tongue hung out. The crowd roared with laughter, except for two
toddlers near the front who burst into tears.

Charlotte gave a tiny gasp. 

“God, Charlotte,” Tabitha said. “It’s fine. He does stuff
like this all the time. You really are so uptight. I mean, if these parents
don’t like what we do with their kids all day, they can stay home and raise
them themselves. Everyone’s got to have a little fun.”  

Finally, the fire was out. “Fire is fun!” Cowboy Rob yelled,
“But you should never play with it. And that’s all for your science lesson
today.” He sunk into a deep bow, while the kids cheered or shrieked or wailed. And
then he said, “Okay, it’s naptime. Everybody get out your blankets and go to
sleep!”

***

While the children pretended to snooze on their bedrolls,
Charlotte huddled in the office with Tabitha to help her sort out the disarray
and mayhem that was the school’s financial reports. 

 “So…you do these fire demonstrations often?” Charlotte
asked, trying to sound offhand as she totaled a series of tuition payments.

“Sure,” Tabitha responded.

“I really think you should reconsider them.” Her heart
pounded in her ears. How she hated confrontation.

“You mentioned that already, Charlotte. And, you know, if
you don’t like the way I run my school…”

“I just think you might need to think of this from a
parent’s perspective.”

“Do you know what, Charlotte? You are uncool. Seriously
uncool.”

Charlotte realized, all at once, that Tabitha was absolutely
right. Her face flushed. All the time. At the slightest provocation. If anything
went the least bit wrong, she would be sweating hot and red-faced. When she exercised,
her complexion grew to a brighter and brighter shade of scarlet while Leopold’s
stayed pale and pasty.

Tabitha and Cowboy Rob, they probably stayed nice and cool
all day long, too. They could even play with fire and not sweat. They worried
about nothing.

She felt a trickle drip down from her armpit. Yep, she was very
uncool.

***

“Whatcha got there, Maddox?” Charlotte asked that evening.
She was waiting for Leopold’s Confidence Prescription to begin, so it could
hurry up and end.

Maddox was digging into a bowl of orange elbow noodles. He
looked at her like she had just fallen off the turnip truck. “Mac and Roni,” he
said.

“Yum.” And so the tainting continues, Charlotte thought.

“Gracie made it for me. Want a bite?”

“No, thank you, but you are a generous and kind boy.”

He worked for a moment to spear a macaroni noodle on each
tine of his fork. Then he looked up. “Aunt Charlotte,” he began. “Do you ever
wish you had a moustache?”

She smiled and leaned over toward him. “No. I don’t think
I’ve ever wished I had a moustache. Why? Do you wish you had a moustache?”

“All the time.” he said. “I would look good in a moustache.
And so would you, even though you are a girl.” He pumped his head down once, in
a show of finality.

“What do you think it would feel like to have a moustache?” Charlotte
asked.

He paused a moment and looked into his macaroni bowl. “I
don’t know.”

“Would it be… slimy?”

“No!” he shook his head and smiled. “Well, if you had
boogers…”

“Would it be…smooth?”

“Yep.” He plunged his fork into the bowl once more. “And it
would be cool. People who have moustaches are cool. That’s why you should have
one Aunt Charlotte. Because you are coo-ool.”

She smiled and chuckled to herself.
Take that, Tabitha,
she thought.

“You look pretty,” Maddox said, then, studying her face and
chewing.

“Thanks.”

“You have black junk on your eyes. Like mama does.”

“Yes. I put on some makeup.”

“It looks lovely. Like mama does.”

Charlotte smiled.

“When you cry, does it get all over the place? Because it
does when mama cries.”

“You know, Maddox, I don’t wear it enough to know. Plus I
don’t cry in public.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Well, where do
you
cry then?”

In the pantry, alone, cuddling the peanut butter,
she
thought. “In private, I guess,” she said.

“Oh.”

“Aunt Charlotte?”

“Yes, Maddox?”

“What happened to you and Uncle Caleb?” His head tilted to
the side. “Did you mess up the love?”

Her breath caught. Maybe. Someone did.

She thought for a moment and then she smiled and asked,
“Maddox, are you trying to make my eye makeup run?”

He shook his head, suddenly earnest. “It’s just mama said
you and Uncle Caleb aren’t living together anymore, and I know that means someone
has messed up the love.”

“Something sure got messed up, I guess. Yes.”

“I like him anyways. Aunt Charlotte. If that’s worth
anything to you.”

“Thanks, Maddox. I’ll tell him that.”

“You still
talk
to him?’  

“Of course.”

“That’s good. That means the love isn’t
too
messed
up.”

 Maxwell shuffled into the dining room just then. “Some guy
is pulling up,” he said. “He has a real fancy car and the top is down.”

Already? Leopold was early. And Charlotte didn’t want the
girls to see him. That would require far too much explaining. She knew it wasn’t
a date, but she was rather dressed up and she didn’t want them thinking anything
weird. Or talking to Caleb about it. She gave Maddox and Maxwell each a quick
kiss on the head and hurried to the front door. The top was down? She grabbed a
fleece sweatshirt from the hook in the foyer on her way out, the first thing
she could grab. It didn’t match her summery pantsuit, but it would have to do.
“Girls, I’m going out for a bit…You’re in charge of the boys!”

Then she charged out toward Leopold, before he could make it
the door. She didn’t even know what kind of little roadster this was, but the
sight of it brought to mind one of her dad’s favorite jokes: “What’s the
difference between a sports car and a porcupine?” he would say. “With a porcupine,
the prick is on the outside.” And then he’d laugh and actually slap his knee. Her
dad never did trust a guy unless he had a few dents in his truck.

“I thought I told you to wear a dress.” Leopold said,
standing by the passenger side door. He was wearing a gunmetal gray suit and a
lavender tie. The whole ensemble had a bit of sheen.  

“I don’t like to wear dresses,” she said in her most
confident voice as he opened the door for her, and she slid down, down into the
car. By the time she reached bottom, she felt like she was sitting four inches
off the pavement.

Leopold crossed to the driver’s side and dropped into his
own seat. “Everyone likes to wear dresses,” he said.

“I don’t.”

“I do not believe you.”

“Do
you
like to wear dresses?”

He shook his head. “You try to be humorous when you are
nervous. But this is serious. You should have on a dress.”

“Do you want to try this again? Because you are being kind
of mean and scary again.”

He shrugged and grimaced at her.

“Is it time for your yam or something?” she asked, but he
didn’t answer. “You missed this, in the shower,” she said, wiping away a dollop
of shaving cream, just over his right ear. She held it out to him, so he could
see.

Now what was she going to do with it? If she were in the
minivan, she would have wiped it under the seat.
Very uncool,
she
thought to herself. She massaged it into her fingers until it disappeared.  

He glanced over at her, and yanked the leather gearshift
backward. Then he cleared his throat. “You look nice,” he said, finally.

“And there it is. I knew you had it in you.” She turned to
wink at him, but his attention was turned to the road. “Some Confidence Coach
you are.” 

“I was looking forward to seeing you in a dress. With one of
those boob sling tops.”