Rock Chick Regret
Page 18

They bickered about who was going to make dinner (why, I didn’t know, considering Buddy did all the cooking) and they nagged about whose turn it was to take out the garbage. I’d always thought “bickering” and “nagging” were ugly words but the way Ralphie and Buddy did them, they were sweet.
I tried to give the cold shoulder, indicate I needed my personal space (especially then) but they wore me down.
It took about five days.
* * * * *
My second day back at work, the door opened and the Rock Chicks came in.
All of them except Daisy but including Shirleen Jackson.
I stared in horror.
With no sign of an arctic glare, Ally smiled, waved and said, “Hey Sadie.”
Like I was actually A Sadie not A Ms. Townsend.
I tell you, it was bizarre.
They all introduced themselves to me and Ralphie while Ralphie stared at them like they were from another planet. He did this mainly because they were all gorgeous and they were so damned friendly it was unreal.
There was Indy, Ally and Stella but also ladies named Jet, Roxie, Ava, Annette and, of course, Shirleen.
After awhile, Ralphie started staring at me like I was from another planet because I went Queen Ice.
I didn’t know what was going on but I didn’t like it and I didn’t want any part of it but there was no way I could ignore it when it was in my own f**king gallery.
Therefore, the Ice Princess clicked into place.
The Rock Chicks were oblivious to my wintry demeanor, chatting away with Ralphie and me like we did it every day.
Eventually Shirleen broke off and wandered the gallery shouting out, “Oowee,” this and “Oowee,” that and finally stopped in front of a painting Ralphie and I’d had hanging for three months without a single nibble of interest.
“I gotta have me that!” Shirleen called across the gallery. She turned to Jet who was closest to her. “Wouldn’t that look good in my rec room?”
I looked at the painting. It was a canvass painted entirely in purple. Just purple. Most people thought it was just canvass painted purple, therefore no nibbles. It was a beautiful purple though and I loved it.
I wasn’t certain sure it was “rec room” material though.
“It’s perfect,” Jet agreed.
Shirleen looked in my direction. “I’ll take it.”
Ralphie swooped down on Shirleen in an instant and snatched her credit card out of her hand before she’d cleared it from her purse.
“I’ll get my boys, Roam and Sniff, to come and get it,” she told us, leaning against my counter.
“We have a delivery service,” Ralphie informed her while I was wondering who in their right mind would name their children Roam and Sniff.
“No, Roam’s drivin’ now, he needs practice negotiating downtown. I’ll give him the Navigator, he’ll do just about anything to drive the Navigator,” Shirleen replied.
“They’re street names,” Indy muttered to me under her breath.
I turned my eyes to her. “Sorry?”
“Roam and Sniff, they’re street names. Shirleen is their foster carer. They were runaways,” Indy explained.
Something about this hit me somewhere deep. I tried to entertain the idea of my father seeing the error of his ways, giving up the drug world, going to work for a private investigator and taking in runaways like Shirleen.
It almost made me want to laugh. I did not, of course, laugh.
Instead, my eyes went glacial like she’d imparted information on me which I found highly uninteresting and I said, “Oh.” Then I turned to Ralphie and announced, “I’m going to The Market, getting us coffees.”
Ralphie’s eyes were startled when he looked at me and I could tell he was shocked at how rude I was being.
He glanced around the girls and then said hesitantly, “Okay, sweet ‘ums.”
Without a backward glance, I left.
When I returned with the coffees, the Rock Chicks were gone and Ralphie gave me the third degree. I deflected the third degree until that evening when Ralphie enlisted Buddy and they ganged up on me. They did this with the addition of lemon drops which we drank sitting on stools around their kitchen island (they had a fabulous kitchen, all chrome and gleaming black cabinets and granite countertops, it was Buddy’s domain, he cooked like a dream).
I held out, for awhile.
But lemon drops always did me in, eventually.
After around lemon drop three, I told them about my Dad. A few sips into lemon drop four, I told them about my Mom. Sucking back lemon drop five, I told them about Hector and added on what I knew about the Rock Chicks, the Nightingale Men and the cherry on top was my history with Daisy. During lemon drop six, I shared what happened when Ricky Balducci broke into my apartment. We were all crying by this time, me uncontrollably, so it was uncertain how much they understood because I didn’t figure I was making much sense.
Ralphie slept with me in my bed that night holding me close all the night through and the next three days he didn’t leave my side.
It was somewhere at the end of day three when I was sitting in between them on the couch and Ralphie had pulled up my feet and was massaging them and Buddy had pulled my head onto his shoulder and I was super comfy that I realized I had my first, genuine friends.
They liked me, me, Sadie – whoever she was, but whoever they thought she was, they liked her.
They didn’t take; they just gave and expected nothing back.
That night they’d introduced me to plucky, cute, smart-mouthed Veronica Mars.
Veronica was in the middle of some elaborate scheme involving a wunderkind schoolmate who knew everything about computers and they were going to blow the lid off some big mystery involving mostly high school students when I whispered, “Thank you guys.”
Neither Buddy nor Ralphie responded but Ralphie gave my feet a long squeeze and Buddy sighed.
The next day Indy, Ally and Roxie came back without the rest of the Rock Chicks and they brought coffee. They told me the coffees at The Market were nothing compared to what Indy’s barista, the guy who worked the espresso machine at her bookstore (they referred to him as “Tex”) could make. They told me Ralphie and I could come to the bookstore anytime and Tex would make us the special on the house.
This time they didn’t chat or buy three hundred dollar purple paintings. They just left the coffees for me and Ralphie, smiled and left.
“I think –” Ralphie started, eyes still on the door after they left.
“Don’t start,” I interrupted him.