The Bachelorette Party (7 page)
“Sorry about that.” Grey squeezed Zadie’s shoulder. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Let’s go,” Zadie said. “You owe me a drink.”
Her workout was over.
Some women enjoy trying on several outfits. Some women just pick the first one that looks decent. Zadie opted for the first thing she could find that was clean—jeans and a turquoise peasant blouse. She also opted for a glass of wine while she blow-dried her hair, which left her looking flushed. Maybe flushed was the new sexy.
As she put on her makeup, she tried to keep herself from imagining how the night might turn out. Even though she was only going on a date to shut everyone up—a ploy that clearly hadn’t worked with her mother, who’d asked at least sixty-five questions about Doug before Zadie got off the phone—she was still vaguely nauseous at the thought of meeting a prospective suitor.
When she was younger, first dates were always exciting. They held so much hope. The promise of a new and perfect relationship hovered above her every time she met someone for a drink or coffee. On her first date with Jack, they’d gone hiking with his dog in Runyon Canyon. When the dog got too tired to finish, Jack carried him the rest of the way. Zadie knew then that she could have babies with him.
So much for hope and promise.
She met Nancy and the team of Doug and Darryl at Pinot Grill on Ventura, a casual California bistro not too far from home, not
too expensive. As she walked in, she saw Nancy waving from a table. Doug and Darryl both turned to look at her and she didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Both were average. Nothing to get lubricated over.
too expensive. As she walked in, she saw Nancy waving from a table. Doug and Darryl both turned to look at her and she didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Both were average. Nothing to get lubricated over.
“Hi, I’m Zadie.” The two men stood up as she sat down in the empty chair next to Nancy. The guy across from her held out his hand.
“I’m Doug. Great to meet you.”
She smiled at him. “Great to meet you, too.” Not really, but there was no need to be ill-mannered. She inspected him over the rim of her water glass. Sandy hair. A little too pale. Eyes too small. Narrow shoulders. Not a wimp, but not the type of guy to carry you out of a burning building.
“Nancy tells me you teach English.”
“That’s right. And you’re in computers?”
“I write code.”
“Ah.” Morse code? Secret code? Dress code?
He grinned at her. “I did horrible in English class.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve made up for it in other ways.” He probably made at least four times what she did. What did he care if he couldn’t quite grasp
A Tale of Two Cities?
A Tale of Two Cities?
Nancy piped up. “Doug is very successful.”
Doug blushed as he foraged through the bread basket. “I paid her to say that.”
He was modest. That was a plus. She hated the “Wanna see my Hummer?” crowd. They were almost as bad as the men who drove piss-yellow Ferraris. Who the hell buys a hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar car the color of urine?
They ordered a bottle of red wine and looked over the menu. Zadie opted for the mustard-roasted chicken. The French fries that came with it were so good it wouldn’t matter how the date ended up. Although, as of now, it wasn’t too painful. Doug seemed pleasant enough.
Nancy leaned over and whispered to Zadie as Doug and Darryl ordered. “Well?”
Zadie knew this was coming. “I just met him. I can’t answer that yet.”
“But he’s kind of cute, right?”
“Kind of.” If she passed him on the street she wouldn’t even notice him. But she wasn’t here for love. She was here to prove a point.
After the guys ordered, Darryl joined the fray “So, Zadie, is Nancy as strict in her classroom as she is with me?”
Mayday. Was Darryl implying that Nancy was some kind of dominatrix? This was not information Zadie wanted to know. Nancy swatted Darryl and giggled.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad I wouldn’t let him pick the restaurant.”
Darryl played along. “There’s nothing wrong with Hooters.” Nancy swatted him again in that “Oh, you silly!” way. He held up his napkin as a shield.
“So, Darryl, what do you do?” Zadie was being oh-so-polite. She really didn’t care.
“I’m a dentist.” No wonder Nancy was excited. Darryl was Husband Material. In Nancy’s opinion at least. Zadie had always gone for soulful eyes over a steady paycheck. Her mother had literally wailed with pain when she’d told her that Jack was a waiter.
“He has two offices.” Nancy beamed with pride, as if they were her own. Zadie made the appropriate “I’m impressed” noise and tried not to notice that her date was staring at her with a weird intensity.
“I can’t believe you’re still single,” Doug said. “You’re really cute.”
Was she supposed to say thank you? Before she could decide, Nancy answered for her.
“She was engaged, but she broke it off.”
Wow. Nancy sugarcoating her situation? This was unprecedented.
“How old are you?” Doug asked.
“Thirty-one.” Kind of a rude question, but Zadie let it go.
“Still, engagement or not, that’s plenty of time for some guy to snatch you up. Are you sure you didn’t go lesbian for a couple years in there somewhere?” He laughed as if this were the wittiest bon mot ever tossed across a dinner table. Zadie took a deep breath, getting ready to retort. Nancy put her hand on Zadie’s arm, as if to say “Easy.”
“Well, Doug, there’ve been some nights where I’ve had more cocktails than I should have, but I’m pretty certain that I didn’t ‘go lesbian’ at any point in time. How about you? Suck any cock that I should know about?” She took a sip of her wine, just as demure as can be.
Doug stiffened and turned tomato red, exactly as she’d intended. “Uh, no, heh heh, I’m only into girls.”
Darryl and Nancy exchanged looks across the table. Darryl’s look said “Why did you set my brother up with this foulmouthed bitch?” Nancy’s look said “Calm down, she’ll stop.” And she kicked Zadie under the table to ensure that she would.
Zadie smiled at everyone. “Well, glad we cleared that up. Anyone seen any good movies?”
She wasn’t leaving until she got her French fries, that’s for damn sure.
“He did not.”
“He did.” Zadie was on Grey’s suede couch, Coors Light in hand, recounting the evening. She’d driven straight to his house in Westwood as soon as dinner was over, bursting to tell him all the gory details. “He wasn’t so happy when I asked him if he’d ever had a dick in his mouth, but we managed to finish our meal without spitting anything at each other.”
“What a dumbass.” Grey got up and went to the fridge, bringing back two more beers. “No wonder he’s still single.” He handed her one of the beers and sat down in his Eames chair.
Zadie frowned. “That implies that single people have a defect.” “I was talking about
him
, not single people in general.”
him
, not single people in general.”
“
He
thought I had a defect. That’s how the whole lesbian thing came up.”
He
thought I had a defect. That’s how the whole lesbian thing came up.”
“You have lots of defects, but they have no bearing at all on why you’re still single. You’re still single because I’m the only guy you talk to.”
Zadie put her feet up on the antique coffee table and thought about this. “Not true. I talk to Mr. Jeffries, the gym teacher.”
“Anyone you refer to as ‘Mr.’ doesn’t count. Neither does Abercrombie boy.”
“Speaking of him, do you know anyone who went to Stanford?”
Grey thought a moment. “I think Karl Jameson did. I’ll ask him on Monday. Why? Does he need a reference?”
“Yeah. I told him I’d ask around.”
“His parents don’t know anyone?”
“They’re hippies. They used to manage the Grateful Dead.”
Grey looked concerned. “What’d you do, follow him home and peek in his windows?”
“I’m not
that
disturbed. I met them at a parent-teacher conference.”
that
disturbed. I met them at a parent-teacher conference.”
“There you go—aren’t there any single fathers you could go out with?”
“No.” Jessica Martin’s father was on the edge of being hot, but the opportunity never presented itself. Was she supposed to call? Hello, Mr. Martin, Jessica is having trouble with Faulkner, perhaps we should discuss it in your hot tub? I’ll bring the merlot.
Zadie drained her beer and set it on the coffee table. A thought just occurred to her. “Why is it, do you suppose, that Helen was single when you met her?”
Grey threw her bottle in the recycling bin and plopped down next to her on the couch. Zadie had longed suspected that the Eames chair was secretly uncomfortable.
“Because she was destined to meet me. But something tells me you have another theory.”
Zadie pulled her hair up on top of her head and tied it into a knot. “I don’t. I was just thinking that if Doug was shocked to find out I was single, he’d shit himself to hear that Helen is available.”
“She’s not.”
“But she was when you met her.”
“Helen had tons of boyfriends before me.”
“And I had tons of boyfriends before Jack.” That wasn’t true. Several maybe, but not tons. “The point is, none of Helen’s boyfriends ever proposed. And she
didn’t
have one the day she met you.”
didn’t
have one the day she met you.”
“Lucky for me. Or else I wouldn’t be getting married in nine days.”
She should’ve known it was beyond him to question serendipity. She laid her head on the back of the couch and sighed. “You know what Saturday is, don’t you?”
“The bachelorette party?”
“I wish you were coming, so I could have fun,” she said.
Grey snorted. “Are you high? I don’t want to sit through a day of that girly crap.”
“Neither do 1. It’s not fair. I feel like I’m being punished because I have a vagina.” The thought of oohing and ahhing over Helen’s wedding details while sipping tea with women she was sure to despise was unbearable. Maybe she’d be lucky and get food poisoning the night before. She would feel too guilty if she lied about being sick, but maybe she could eat some bad fish by “accident.” Christ. She was actually wishing intestinal distress upon herself. “Can’t I just come to your bachelor party instead? Then I’d have an excuse not to go.”
Grey looked at her. “Do you really wanna watch a bunch of lawyers get lap dances?”
She thought about it. “Do men actually ejaculate during a lap dance, or do they just get hard?”
“Speaking from personal experience? There’s no emission of fluids.”
“Then what’s the point? In high school, guys gave us endless hours of grief about blue balls, and now men are actually
paying
for it?”
paying
for it?”
“I’m the wrong guy to ask. The only lap dance I ever had was at my brother’s bachelor party. The stripper looked like she hadn’t eaten in a week. Her rib cage was visible. I kept trying to feed her peanuts.”
“Sexy.” Zadie looked around the room, noticing that something was different. “What happened to your beanbag chair?”
“Helen didn’t like it.”
“What?! I loved that chair.”
“She thought it was tacky.”
“That’s what made it so cool. It made all your designer stuff seem less pretentious.”
Grey shrugged. “What can I do? She hated it.”
“What else does she hate? Just so I can prepare myself.”
“I’m not getting rid of everything she doesn’t like.” Grey picked up his Turkish snuffbox and held it protectively. “This isn’t going anywhere.”
“So is this what your married life is going to be like? Arguing over what gets to stay in your house?”
“No. My married life is going to be endless nights of bliss.”
“Seriously. What’s a typical night with you two going to be? Watching TV? Cuddling in front of the fire? Nonstop sex? Throwing dishes? Give me a rough estimate.” Zadie started to panic. What if he said, “Making babies”? She’d never see him again. People with babies fall out of circulation for at least two years.
“I don’t know. What’d you picture you and Jack would be doing?”
“All estimations involved his actual presence, which we now know was too much to ask. Back to you.”
“The same thing you and I are doing, I guess,” Grey said. “Hanging out. Talking. Drinking beer.”
“Helen doesn’t drink. And if you can get her to talk about ejaculation, I wanna be on speakerphone.”
“Well, obviously not
exactly
like this. But a version of this. With sex at the end, hopefully.”
exactly
like this. But a version of this. With sex at the end, hopefully.”
“Ah, sex. I remember it well.” Zadie sighed.
Zadie thought about Dorian’s advice to have sex with someone she knew and realized that Grey was the only possibility. And that was completely ludicrous. She didn’t have sex with him when he was available, so she certainly wasn’t going to have sex with him while he was engaged to her cousin. Not that he wasn’t attractive. Nice smile. Muscular thighs. Strong arms. Pretty blue eyes with those long lashes that girls never get. But there was no way in hell Zadie could ever sleep with him, Helen aside. He was too important to her as a friend. Why risk screwing that up for ten
minutes of penis inside of her? She’d much rather give up sex than Grey.
minutes of penis inside of her? She’d much rather give up sex than Grey.
Grey looked at his crotch. “I’m hoping I remember how. Should I flex first?”
“You’ll be fine. Besides, she’s a virgin. She won’t know if you suck at it.”
“An encouraging thought.”
She stood up, stretching. “I should go.”
“Is Doug waiting back at your place?”
“Funny.”
He got up to walk her to the door. “I’ll tell Mike he’s still in the running.”
“I don’t know—” Zadie said. “I’m thinking I should try someone who doesn’t speak English. It’ll be harder to get offended if I can’t understand him.”
Grey leaned over and gave her a peck goodbye. “Drive safe.” As she drove over the hill back to the Valley, she thought about hanging out in Grey’s living room once Helen had moved in. It was not an appealing scenario. Her bad dates would no longer be amusing anecdotes. They would be a source of pity. Helen wouldn’t understand the humor in the situation. She would make a frowny face and cluck sympathetically. Grey would cluck as well in a show of solidarity with his wife. She would no longer be his pal Zadie who was fun to hang out with, she would be poor single Zadie who never had the sense to find a decent man. He would see her through Helen’s eyes.
And eventually, Zadie would end up in the same place as the beanbag chair.
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