King of Her Desire

29

"I may go back with you in the morning," Gerri said.

We were sitting at this bar in the den, sipping a Mexican cocktail she'd mixed up for me. A splash of tequila, a little lime, a pinch of salt, some grapefruit soda—her favorite hangover remedy.

I'd had 'way too much to drink and smoke the night before. You couldn't turn down a sip or a toke out there in the lots. They got all insulted if you didn't accept. Same way they got insulted if you didn't eat their food when you stopped by.

Cultures and codes—I respect all that. But it can get you into trouble sometimes.

So it was Gerri to the rescue as usual. She was such a generous soul.

Except I noticed that she kept a little distance, too, emotionally. On purpose, I think. So she could be Switzerland, so to speak. Neutral enough to see things we didn't. Say things we couldn't. Which made her friendship even more valuable.

So I said, "Ben's sending the jet, right? What's up with that?"

"He wanted to have a little 'tete a tete' with you before the shoot. But I don't like what I'm hearing, so I may tag along."

"Something weird happening with Elliott?"

"She's being evasive. Losing her nerve, maybe. I can't tell."

"She emailed that thing, though. The RSVP thing. And went to some kind of photo shoot, too, yesterday. I guess all the people nominated for awards were there. It sounded like fun."

She laughed and said, "Oh, she loved going to that! They were asking her all kinds of questions about you."

Sochi came in with these fried squash blossom things. And I glowered at the little pile of deep-fried flowers...and then realized that Gerri's "cure" was working. I was actually kind of hungry.

Gerri dove right in like a happy kid.

"I could eat them all," she said. "She makes the most wonderful batter! So light and crispy."

I held back for a bit. Just making sure...

And Sochi smiled at me and said, "The children," in English. And she set her cell down so the app could translate everything until I recovered enough to take over. Bless her.

I smiled and said, "Mima says she can't hardly stand to look at 'em, poor little guys. I remember that itch." In English, I said it. As a test. And the app version was close enough.

"I had that and shingles, too," Gerri said. "Ages ago, though. I think...I was still married, actually..."

"Whoa—married?" I said.

She laughed and said, "It's that hard to believe, is it? Wow."

"No, see...I think it's weird that neither one of you has some guy hanging around some kind of way. There's usually a lunch buddy or something at least."

Sochi nodded like she'd been thinking the same thing.

And Gerri made a "just smelled a dead skunk somewhere" face and said, "Something happened as I got older. I just...didn't want the drama. I'm happier just living for myself now. It's selfish I guess, but..."

"And Elliott feels the same way?" I said.

She winked at me and said, "Obviously not."

"Well, I'm just...I mean, we're just...I don't know what we are, actually..."