The Jewel Box (12 page)

“Mommy where is Gabriel? I miss him, can we see him today?”

“He’s at work, lovey. But I’ll bet he stops by tonight.”

“I’m sure he’s missing me, Mommy.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed. Nikki assumed everyone missed her something fierce if she was away, even for brief times. If only I had a smidgen of her self-confidence.

“Maybe he could take me for ice cream again.”

“Maybe. But remember it’s impolite to ask favors.”

“Okay, Mommy.” She nuzzled against my arm.

Prior to my picking up Nikki, Gabriel suggested we alter our living arrangement to one more proper for her. I was learning a great deal about the person he pretended not to be.

Nikki and I were watching TV anchorman, Dave Ward talk with Ed Brandon about another humid Houston day when we heard Gabriel’s light tap on the door. I dashed to open it, but the miniature affection moocher got to him first. “I’m jealous.” I joked as he hugged Nikki. He then embraced me, which created an urge to say, “Na na na na na nah,” but being the adult, I refrained. My insecurity shatters the theory that breast fed babies grow up confident.

Gabriel followed me into the kitchen. “Gimme your hand.” He placed a penny in my palm.

“Are we going to a penny arcade later?”

“Al said you were going to get my last cent, so I thought I’d give it to you now.” He winked before strolling into the living room.

“Such wisdom from a man who’s still waiting for
Encyclopedia Britannica
to come out in paperback. When he grows up he might learn all women don’t behave like his dream girls,” I said with sexy sarcasm, not about to let my irritation at Al infringe on our home life. I wrapped the penny in foil, took it to the bedroom, and put it in my lingerie drawer by the wedge of wood.

During dinner our usual conversation changed to include that of a three-year-old as Gabriel talked about Sesame Street, telling Nikki people thought he was “Oscar the Grouch.” She disagreed and laughed at other silly stories he invented, before regaling him with stories of her daily adventures. After dinner Gabriel and I began our nightly dishwashing routine with assistance from Nikki, but when he kissed the back of my neck, she frowned.

“Maybe I should get a hotel room for the night,” Gabriel whispered.

“Whatever you think is best.” I was disappointed about being without him, but didn’t need additional guilt regarding doing the right thing.

Gabriel unfolded the paper as Nikki crawled onto his lap. He attempted to read while she warbled in his ear. Unable to read, he switched to the evening news. When
Flip Wilson
came on the two laughed ridiculously. Okay. I was a little jealous about her invading my place on his lap.

“Time for your bath and then I’ll tuck you into bed,” I motioned to Nikki.

“Mommy, can Gabriel read my bedtime story tonight? Please?”

Seriously?
“Uh. Okay, lovey.”

He read two of her favorite books, and then she begged him to tell a story. So much for mommy-daughter loyalty.

“Okay, kid,” Gabriel started. “There was a mama bear, a papa bear and a baby bear by a previous marriage.”

I walked to the doorway. “It’s time for the Grimms’ renegade brother to get going.”

We kissed goodbye and he squeezed me. “Hey, wouldya unlock your patio door and get her to sleep?” he whispered in my ear. “I can’t sleep without you.”

“Wood eye.” I bounced up on tiptoes.

“Let’s just be discreet about it, Harelip.”

Ever so quietly, Gabriel slipped in through the patio door, showered, and crawled in bed beside me. We spoke softly for a few minutes before attempting hushed lovemaking. Thank God Nikki was a sound sleeper. The following morning Gabriel awakened early, kissed me goodbye, and left via the patio door. Our morning routine of his reading and relaying the news to me while I cooked breakfast had become special to me. But I had to buck up and understand this was the respectable way to handle our disrespectable relationship.

“Mommy, someone’s knocking on our door.” Nikki sleepily walked through the hall, rubbing her eyes. I looked through my viewer, and there stood Gabriel with the
Houston Post
morning edition in hand. The three of us sat down and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while Nikki and I dominated the conversation. Both helped with dishes. When Gabriel kissed us goodbye before leaving, Nikki snagged an extra kiss, then shot me a “Na na na na na nah,” look.

“Bye, love.” I shoved him out. “I’ve got to scratch several gifts off someone’s birthday list.”

Nikki gave me the evil eye. Gabriel honked his horn twice, and I walked outside. “That’s my ‘I love you’ signal,” he shouted as he drove away, blowing kisses until he was out of sight.

Nikki and I had a fun filled day, playing games and discussing everything from scientific developments in space to spray cheese. She was too young for discussing or understanding Gabriel’s affinity for prolonged foreplay or his exceptional talent in the oral gratification arena, so we stuck with less mystifying subjects. When Gabriel came home, once again Nikki beat me in the hug race, and settled on his lap to tell him about her day while I cooked. “I’ll be taking Nikki to the sitter tomorrow, before I return to work.”

“So soon?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes. This has been fun, but I can’t live on love alone. And without income Nikki might wind up running around half naked and hungry.”

He scowled and went mute. No doubt the “running around half naked” fragment of my sentence irritated him. Wordlessly, we stuck to our usual routine, and as we did dishes in companionable silence, he crowded close. “Let me pay rent and buy groceries for a while. You can take a few weeks off can’t you?”

“I can pay rent and buy groceries if I work,” I said defiantly. Then remembering Al’s comment, my tongue went caustic. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to take your last cent.”

“Fine, Cherie. Be stubborn,” he said, in a sarcastic tone that couldn’t compete with mine.

“You don’t know stubborn, my friend.” I threw my dishtowel on the counter, spun around so fast it looked like a half pirouette, and walked into the bathroom to draw Nikki’s bath. She was notoriously oblivious to unpleasant changes in my mood, and could persist in discussing recent dialogue between Kermit and Big Bird long after one’s interest in the subject had vaporized and turned to thoughts of frying frog legs and yanking yellow feathers. Other than our initial clash at the Jewel Box, this was my first brusque exchange with Gabriel, and tonight it had a polarizing effect. Instead of feeling furious, I had overreacted, then felt vulnerable and upset, yet determined to take care of myself. Even if my job entailed running around half naked.

Gabriel and I remained polite but quiet for the remainder of the evening while Nikki cheerfully fed her dead goldfish. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it had blown its last bubble. Gabriel tucked her into bed and I read her favorite bedtime stories until she fell asleep. When I walked in the
living room, we apologized in unison and held hands as we watched
The Dick Cavett Show
. “I just want you to know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve cut my hours and won’t be working twelve hour shifts any more. Gives me more time with Nikki and time to change professions.”

“You call this a profession?”

“Unfortunately it is for many women, and it’s what I’m doing at this time. Besides learning things at this club that Psychology 101 doesn’t teach. Please try to understand.”

“I’ll try.” He snuggled against me.

The following morning after our routine of wake-up kisses, patio exit, front door arrival, hello kisses, news time, breakfast, dishes, and goodbye kisses, Gabriel left for work and I pried Nikki from Sesame Street to go across the courtyard and spend a few minutes with new sitter, Delilah. Other than remembering the day Delilah banged her Camaro into my Mustang’s bumper, Nikki knew nothing of this girl to whom I was about to entrust her care. Fortunately my daughter easily adapted to new situations.

“Hey kid, have a chocolate donut,” Delilah offered, cigarette dangling from one hand. She obviously used perfume to combat tobacco smells. Loads of perfume. “And some Pepsi.”

“No thank you,” Nikki declined both. We’d had a big, healthy breakfast.

I wasn’t keen on Nikki eating junk food, but the environment seemed safe. Not sophisticated, just safe. “Lemme get my baton for you.” Delilah bolted into her bedroom.

I prayed she wouldn’t repeat a tale she told me about being a former baton twirling tease, known for sending horny boys home with blue balls. “Maybe you can show her later,” I said. “I’ll bring her back around five.”

“Okay. But look quick, Nikki.” Delilah balanced her baton on her nose while belching.

Delilah was rough around the edges, but Nikki seemed fascinated by her. Juvenile behavior in adults is quite the kid magnet.

“You nervous about going back to work?” Gabriel asked on his third call of the day.

“I’m totally fine,” I assured him, feeling jittery as all get out.

“Hey, I’m knocking off early today. Why don’t I drive you to work?”

“Oh sweetie, that would be great. But I need to leave by five-thirty.”

“Yeaaah. You think I don’t know that, Blondie? I pay more attention to things you say than you realize. See ya in a bit.”

He had obviously detected my anxiety and I was glad. Walking in the club would be easier with him by my side, but I didn’t want him staying until three a.m., and then getting up for work three hours later. As we headed to the Jewel Box, I became a bundle of nerves, chatting nonstop and moving as close to him as possible. When we arrived, I sat glued to the seat, not wanting to leave his side. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“I’d do just about anything for a piece of ass.”

“Then get medication to curb your filthy comments.”

“Be nice if you want me to come inside with you.”

“Mmmm.” I licked his ear. “You’ll come inside for a minute or so?”

“Twist my arm,” he said before jumping out to open my door.

Five days away from the club brought just as many new dancers. No surprise. Topless dancers were a transient bunch. Gabriel headed to the men’s room as Laura rushed over to give me a big hug. Beau squeezed me and whispered in my ear, “Didn’t I tell you some men who come in these places are nice?”

I grinned at my spiritual guide through sin city. “Yeah, but I thought you were lying.”

“I never lie.” Beau winked. “And I think Gabe’s a good man.”

“Your support means a lot,” I said as he went back behind the bar. “Of course now I can’t shake that damn Lord Byron quote you shared with me weeks ago.”

“Baby.” Beau grabbed my hand. “If you’re referring to Byron’s
What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, is much more common when the climate is sultry. . .
please believe me that your relationship with Gabe is considerably different. He never entertained women in this ‘sultry’ joint before; you two got to know each other over many months, and the profound love you feel is as evident as the remorse I see on both your faces. Sometimes these things
simply happen. It was obvious Gabe wasn’t happily married, and I don’t believe you ever intended to fall in love—so just enjoy your time together.”

Beau was a good judge of character and his approval was paramount, but in my heart I realized that even without his endorsement, I was hanging onto this carpenter. While Beau busily tended bar and Gabriel stood alongside, in walked Reverend Al. I made an irritated face, despite appreciating the company he offered my guy. I breathed easier with Gabriel in the club, so I grabbed Al’s hand and dropped a penny into it. “Apology accepted for your asinine last cent comment.” Al turned beet red, and then grinned like a jackass.

Soon the three of us were sitting around just like old times, and before you could say “Got any quarters for the jukebox?” a redhead carrying a big confederate flag and wearing an iridescent red, white, and blue ensemble complete with elbow length, star-studded arm cones, came by our table to introduce herself. Perched on a pair of red skyscraper sandals, “Dixie” stood beside Al, looking as if she was in a galaxy, far, far away. Al ogled “Tiger,” the dancer on stage who had a full back tattoo of a Bengal, and didn’t invite Miss Patriotic to join us. Gabriel glanced at the huge flag draped over her shoulder, and lightly jabbed Al. “You’d have to throw that flag over her face and fuck for Old Glory.” Got him a sharp jab in the ribs from me.

Moments later when Gabriel and I were discussing France’s success with the first nuclear powered pacemaker, Dixie interjected in a high pitched voice, “That’s a fact and not a fiction.” Without acknowledging her presence, Gabriel leaned closer to me and lit a Marlboro. Al danced in his chair to
Who’s Making Love To Your Old Lady?
while clapping for Tiger, like he was Jim Fowler and we were on
Wild Kingdom
. Gabriel mentioned chief justice Earl Warren’s retirement about the time Dixie swung by our table, and once again she trilled, “That’s a fact and not a fiction,” before dashing away, flag flying wildly.

“Her dumb look must be a ploy for money,” I whispered to Gabriel. “She seems fairly hip on current events.”