Life Happens- 1941

Chapter 5

They were seated comfortably on a cream colored couch in the middle of the room, sipping iced tea.  Betty sat on one end, glass in hand, wiping her forehead while listening to Francine chatter on the other.  You could tell she wasn’t interested.  She seemed more concentrated on the fact that the couch cushion she was sitting on was covered in dust.  The house was filthy.  This I found slightly peculiar myself.  Why didn’t Francine take the time to clean?  Knowing her….

“Charlotte!”  Betty had turned around and saw me standing in the doorway.  She desperately patted the cushion next her, and dust exploded everywhere.  She gave me a look that said, ‘You better come over here and help me.’  I took the hint and walked over to the couch.

Francine looked offended.  She brushed the dust off of her lilac colored skirt and smiled.  But I could see right through her.  I wasn’t invited over here to sip iced tea.  Francine had something she wanted to discuss.  

I smiled politely, “Hello ladies.” 

“Have a seat Charlotte.”  Francine said through her smile.  I sat.

“Would you care for some tea?” Francine picked up the pitcher, as if waiting for me to say yes, although positive that that’s what I would say. I thought for a moment.  It was rather humid outside and a cold glass of iced tea sounded pretty good…

“No thanks, Franny, I’m fine.”  For all I know, she could have slipped some weed killer in it.  She set the pitcher down on the table and sighed.  Awkward silence.  Suddenly, there was so much tension, you could have cut it with a knife.  Betty was about to open her mouth and try to start a conversation when Francine cut in.

“ So Charlotte, how’s Elliot?”  The words came out fast.  Almost too fast.  Betty was holding her breathe.

“Elliot’s doing well thank you.”

“That’s good to hear.  I’m glad the son-of-a-bitch is enjoying himself while he still can.  Research shows, that once they come home from the military, they go insane.  Their never right again you know.”  She looked proud of herself, maybe because I was starting to get irritated.  Maybe I was being naive.  I could not let her get to me.  I would not give her what she wanted.

“I was wondering Francine,” She nodded to signal she was listening, “How many wars have you come home from?”  I kept cool, if I was going to insult this woman, I was going to do it respectably.  Francine looked aghast.  

“Well, I never!  What might you be implying?”

“What do you think?” I retorted.  “I am simply asking you a question.  There’s really no need to get your panties in a wad.”  By this time, Betty was laughing, I mean rolling off the couch, giggling like she was three and her mother was tickling her.  Francine was turning beet red, but was trying to hide it.  She needed an excuse to leave the room. 

“I’m going to get some more tea.”  With that, she huffed off of the couch and marched into the kitchen.  

The moment she disappeared from sight, I began to laugh too.  My gosh, who knew a person could drive you so mad?  She was like the Klu Klux Klan of decent men.  The Hitler of successful relationships.  I wondered how long Betty had been here before I arrived.  I hoped it wasn’t long, I didn’t want her to suffer too.  

I stopped laughing for a moment and reached out to her.

“Betty how long have you been here?”

“Oh, well, not long.”  I could tell this wasn’t the truth.  She might as well have been holding up a sign that said, ‘I’m lying but you know that so lets not talk about it.’  I ignored the imaginary sign.  “Betty, tell me the truth.”

“You know, maybe around…two hours.”  Her face fell and she started tearing up.

“Charlotte, I didn’t want to come.  She made me.  Told me I had to.”

“Betty, you didn’t have to do anything.  She’s just a bitter, low, God forbid if I’m ever kind, sort of person and you don’t have to put up with her crap.  Nor do I.  I don’t know why she invited me over.  Maybe she wanted to try to have a civilized conversation over drinks.  Maybe she wanted time to insult me.  Maybe both.  I don’t really care.  I’m done with this.  Lets go.”  Betty looked stunned.  I had just said everything we were both thinking but never thought we’d say.  

“I love you Charlotte.”  She just grinned.

“I know.”  I laughed. “I love you too.”  

“Charlotte seriously though, she’s been threatening-”  Just then , Francine walked back in, carrying two full glasses of iced tea.  Betty and I immediately fell silent.  Betty looked at us suspiciously but then thought better of it.  The glasses in her hands swayed precariously, as if with her mood.  She smoothed her skirt down and reclined on the cushion.  

Two more hours later, the tension had lessened and it was as if nothing had happened.  Francine leaned forward to hug me goodbye and just a I was leaning in, she stepped on my foot.  Hard.  In her high heeled shoes, digging her heel into my foot.  

“Ouch!”  I had to bite back the tears.

“Oh, my! I’m sorry dear, I suppose I should have been more careful.  Next time, keep your foot out of the way.  I was trying to kill a gnat.”  A gnat, really?

“Charlotte honey, do you want some ice?”  I glared into Francine’s musty brown eyes, furious.  She knew what she had done and she wanted it to hurt.  Now, I didn’t care about being polite.  This was the last straw.

“Francine,” I said, real slow and clear, “I want you to take some ice and shove it up your ass.”  

Betty gasped.  A glass of iced tea hit the floor.  Francine stomped her foot .  But before either of them could make a decent retort, I had already stormed out the door.  Oblivious to the world, I marched right past my car and down the driveway.  Leaving a very stunned Lanny sitting on the porch, practically falling off the swing in laughter.

I was blinded by anger as I strode down the sidewalk, occasionally stopping to rub my sore foot.  I just wanted to go home.  I wanted to feel Elliot’s kiss, telling me I’d be fine.  I wanted to run my fingers through his hair and play my fingers around the ends.  It was getting late though, it was dark.  I was guessing it was around seven o’clock.  

I took a turn down an alley way, the sounds of the night engulfing my senses.  The fresh air, the crickets, the sweet smell of apple pie wafting out of a nearby window.  As I rounded the corner, I was abruptly pushed aside into a brick wall.  I now smelled a whiff of bourbon and smoke.  Two, muscular arms wrapped around me, muffling my screams into the silent night.  I tried, so hard to break free, but the arms restrained me, locking me into grasp.  They were far different from Elliot’s gentle embrace.  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What was happening?