Playing House--Chapter Six

Photo by Hannah Murrell on Unsplash

Saturday was sunny and warm. In the morning, Ginny went on a long bike ride. For lunch, she ate a salad brimming with vegetables and a few pieces of grilled chicken, with the dressing that tastes like glue.

At four, she left to meet Bryn at the apartment she shared with Carissa and Britney. Bryn and Britney had met at community college. Britney now worked as a sales rep for a department store. Bryn had met Carissa at beauty school, which was Bryn’s most recent school experience. She’d lasted two months in a salon before declaring that women are psycho about their hair.

The brick apartment building was relatively small, only eight units. There were hanging flower baskets everywhere. The outside of the building always smelled like flowers and dryer sheets, reminding Ginny of visits to the retirement home where her mother’s parents had lived for a few years before the hospital, hospice, and death. They’d died within a week of each other, a tribute to true love or codependency, hard to say which.

Britney answered the door. Short and curvy, she had light brown skin (Mexican grandmother, Native American father) and a new hairstyle, as she did pretty much every time Ginny saw her. Short, and choppy, it had a messy look, made more so by streaks of blonde. “Oh my God, I can't believe Bryn is getting married, can you?”

“I guess I don’t have much choice do I?”

Carissa, an attractive redhead with freckles, came into the room. “Bryn’s still getting ready. We’ve been planning her bachelorette party. It’s going to be here, the Saturday before the wedding. We hired a stripper, of course. His name is Tex, and you’re not going to believe how hot he is.”

“Let’s show her,” Britney said.

Ginny followed them into the kitchen. She couldn't imagine eating in this room. It smelled like months worth of boxed dinners. Dirty pans and dishes filled the sink and covered the counters. There were empty cans everywhere, mostly diet soda and light beer. Carissa’s laptop was open on the table. Carissa brought up the website for exotic dancers. Tex filled the screen. Tight jeans, no shirt, tanned and ripped torso. He wore a white cowboy hat and had one hand on the brim as if he were tipping his hat to them. He had a gorgeous face and a seductive smile that showed off dazzlingly white teeth.

“Isn’t he yummy?” Britney said.

“Yes,” Ginny said.

“He can lasso me any day,” Carissa said.

“For him, I’d wear wranglers and cowboy boots and learn to ride a horse,” Britney said.

“Forget the horse,” Carissa said. “Tex would be ride enough for me.”

While the three of them stood there ogling Tex, Ginny felt a sort of kinship with Carissa and Britney.

Bryn came out of her room. “Did you show her Tex?”

“We did,” Britney said.

“Nice,” Ginny said.

“Do you think Jason will have a bachelor party with strippers?” Carissa asked.

“No,” Ginny said.

They all looked at her funny because the question had been directed at Bryn, but Ginny didn’t care. She knew Jason better than Bryn did.

“He might,” Bryn said.

“He won’t. You know he won’t,” Ginny said. “Strippers are not his style.”

“Maybe not, but Jason has been full of surprises since I started dating him.” 

“Like what?” Ginny asked.

Bryn wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Nothing I can tell you.”

Ginny waved the comment away with a flick of her hand, hoping they’d all believe that she didn’t care, that it didn’t bother her one bit.

They took two cars to the mall. Ginny drove, and Bryn rode with her. Ginny regretted the arrangement immediately. All Bryn talked about was Jason.

“Would you believe he likes to go clothes shopping with me?”

“No,” Ginny said.

“He never complains about waiting outside the dressing room and even makes suggestions. He’s the only guy who has ever been interested in what I’m putting on, instead of what I’m taking off.”

Was Jason so in love with Bryn that even her clothes fascinated him?

“We’ve been having fun updating his wardrobe too. He admitted that he worries too much about what other people think, and was afraid of trying something different.”

This did sound like Jason.

“Jason told me that he has some anxiety issues same as you do. He says that you two talk about it sometimes.”

“We do,” Ginny said. She and Jason had had many conversations about their hang-ups, as well as lengthy intellectual discussions about life in general.

“On Saturday we talked about him being shy in social situations,” Bryn said. “At dinner with his coworkers, I did more talking than he did. Afterward, we had drinks with Hank and Peter, and then we went back to Jason's. We talked until like three in the morning, about life and stuff. Did you know that he had a younger brother who died?”

“Yes. He was four months old. It was Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.”

“Jason thinks that’s part of why his dad drank himself to death.”

Junior year had been a terrible time for Jason, and Ginny had been there for him, offering comfort, listening when he needed to talk.

“We had dinner with Jason’s mother last week,” Bryn said. “Evelyn is so nice.”

“A little too nice, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed how much she loves to talk about all of her good deeds?”

“She did tell me about one of her volunteer jobs. She doesn’t just take meals to old people, she stays and visits with them and listens when they talk about all of their aches and pains. There’s nothing wrong with that kind of nice.”

They were in a parking garage now, circling, in search of an empty spot. It seemed that everyone in Portland had decided to go to the mall today. “There's nothing wrong with doing good deeds, but Evelyn wants everyone to know how selfless and giving she is.”

“She prays a lot too,” Bryn said. “There’s nothing wrong with that either, I guess, but she even told me how many people she is currently praying for and why.”

“She takes the bible a bit too literally if you ask me.” Ginny maneuvered into an open space.

“No kidding. I’m hoping that Jason will change his mind about waiting for marriage now that we’re engaged.”

“I wouldn't count on that.”

“But what if we wait and we're not compatible? What if the sex is bad?”

 “Maybe he won’t notice,” Ginny said. “Since he won’t know how it could have been with someone else.”

“I meant bad for me.”

Ginny laughed.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Bryn said. “Actually, I take it back. I’m not worried. What we have is so much more than sex. We’ve really connected, you know?”

Ginny got out of the car and closed the door harder than was necessary. She was the one Jason connected with. Why couldn't he see that?

Two hours later they were in their fifth dressing room, having left a trail of discards in the last four. Dozens of dresses had been tried, and rejected. Bryn kept insisting that they match for the photos. Ginny’s feet hurt. She wanted to be done with it but didn’t want to go through it all again another day.

Carissa hogged the full- length mirror, admiring her slender figure in a simple, form-fitting, turquoise dress that was reasonably priced. “I like this one.”

“Me too,” Bryn said.

Britney stepped out of a dressing room wearing the same dress. “I like it.”

“Your turn.” Bryn handed Ginny an identical dress in two different sizes.

Ginny went into a dressing room. Please, please, please fit and look decent.

The first one was too small. The second one fit everywhere except in the bust.

“Well?” Bryn said through the dressing room door.

“This one doesn’t fit either.”

“Open the door and show us,” Bryn said.

Ginny sighed, opened the door and stepped out. Carissa and Bryn were in front of the three-way mirror. Carissa seemed quite pleased with her reflection and was reassuring Britney that she did not look fat in the dress.

“It almost fits,” Bryn said. “Maybe a size up?”

“A size up would be too big everywhere else,” Britney said.

“You don't need a bigger size, just smaller boobs,” Bryn said. “You always say you lose weight in your chest first, so just lose a few more pounds.”

“I’m going to keep trying, but what if it doesn't work? I can’t wear it like this. I look slutty.”

“You can’t look slutty, that’s Carissa’s role,” Britney said, giggling.

“Wait until you see the fuck-me-heels I plan to wear with this,” Carissa said. “My role is safe.”

“I’d like to get rid of my roll.” Britney grabbed a bit of fat at her waist.

“You can do it, Ginny,” Bryn said. “This is the one.”

Ginny wanted to get out of the mall too badly to argue. First, she had to endure Bryn taking pictures of them all with her phone.

Bryn asked Ginny to take her to Jason’s house. By the time they got there, Ginny was already regretting the dress. She was tired of being hungry all the time.

“Any luck?” Jason asked the moment they walked in the door.

“Yes, and we have news,” Bryn said.

“What?” Jason asked.

“Britney and Carissa want to throw me a little bachelorette party. They’ve even hired entertainment.”

“Tex,” Ginny said. “He does look entertaining.”

“He’s probably gay,” said Peter who was sitting on the sofa with his dumbbell. “Most male strippers are.”

Bryn waggled her eyebrows at Peter, “Are you hinting that you’d like to be invited?”

“No,” he said with a look of distaste. “But I think Jason should get a party too."

“I don’t need a party,” Jason said.

“I think Peter is right.” Bryn wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck. “I want you to have fun, too.”

“I suppose I could have a few friends over,” Jason said. “So, let’s see this dress.”

Bryn got out her phone to show Jason the photos.

Ginny watched Jason’s face, hoping for some indication that he found her sexy. In the movies, the right dress could make a man see a woman in a whole new light, and suddenly realize he was madly in love with her. 

“It’s too small in the bust,” Jason said.

Ginny felt her cheeks get warm. 

“It’ll be fine once she loses a couple more pounds.” Bryn took the phone from Jason and walked over to Peter, who had set down his dumbbell and picked up a men’s health magazine. She held the phone between the magazine and his face. “What do you think?”

Peter shrugged. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because gay guys are supposed to have an opinion on this kind of thing,” Bryn said, with a sigh of exasperation.

Peter responded with a withering stare. “Ginny should wear whatever she feels like wearing.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said. “I’m going to wear my red dress.”

“You can’t wear red to a wedding,” Bryn said.

“Fine, I’ll wear what I have on. I like this outfit.”

“You can’t wear pants to my wedding.”

“If you’re going to be that way about it, I’ll wear spandex shorts and a tank top. Can I borrow one of yours, Peter?”

Peter dropped the magazine, tore off his pink tank top and tossed it to her. “Knock yourself out.”

Jason chuckled. Bryn glared. Ginny decided it was time to leave.

Once in her car, she checked her phone to see if Pierce had sent her a text and somehow she’d missed it. He hadn’t. She’d brought his jokers with her, in case he called and asked about them. Should she send him a text and offer to bring over the cards? It seemed too soon, as she'd just seen him the night before. What was the protocol here? They weren't dating so dating rules wouldn't apply, even if she knew what they were. It was Saturday night. He might have gone out. Or he could be at home. Maybe he'd be happy to hear from her and invite her in and…Ginny realized that she was stroking Pierce's jokers with her free hand.

She started the car. She’d tell him she was in the neighborhood and decided to drop by to give him his cards.

When she arrived at Pierce's house, there were no parking spots anywhere on the block. There were several vehicles on the lawn. Ginny parked at the end of the driveway, blocking the sidewalk. It looked like they were having a party. The idea of knocking on the door uninvited suddenly seemed all wrong. If Pierce had wanted her here, he would have invited her. He could be nude hot-tubbing with a woman—or two or three women. He might not appreciate her being here. Ginny had decided to back out of the driveway when a motorcycle pulled in and parked sideways behind her. She rolled down her window to ask the guy if he could move his vehicle. One glimpse of the scary looking biker, and she immediately slunk down in the front seat and pretended to be texting. Please don’t see me. Please don’t ask me why I’m here.

The biker walked up to the front door. What now? She was trapped. What the heck was she thinking, showing up here?

Ginny’s phone rang. It was Pierce. “Hello?”

“Hey Ginny, how’re you doing?”

“Fine.”

“That’s good. So uh, you’re not by any chance parked in front of my house are you?”

“Um, well, yes.” She could see Pierce now, standing on the front porch. She gave him a little wave. “I have your jokers. You left them at my house. I was in the area so I thought I’d stop by and bring them to you. It looks like you’re busy.”

“It's poker night. I don't need the jokers, but you can bring them up.”

“Oh, okay.”

Pierce greeted her at the front door, barefoot, wearing faded jeans with a hole in one knee, and a black T-shirt with a beer logo on the front.

She handed him the jokers.

“Do you want to come in?”

Did she? “So, um, do you play for money?”

“We do. With this crowd, things sometimes get a bit out of hand, but if you don’t mind obscene language, bad manners, and general drunkenness, you’re welcome to watch a few hands.”

“You’re only inviting me to watch, not play?”

“You just learned the game. I’d hate to see you lose your money.”

“What makes you so sure I’ll lose?”

He shrugged. “If you’re willing to put up ante, you can take your chances like everyone else, I guess.”

“What’s ante again?”

Pierce drew her inside, shaking his head. “At least watch a couple of hands first, and see how it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Ginny followed him upstairs to the dining room. It was warm in the room, despite the cool breeze coming in through the sliding glass door that opened onto a deck. There were four men, including Steele, sitting around the table. Pierce introduced them. The biker’s name was Carl. He had a soft voice that didn’t match his rough exterior and was drinking flavored water. Oliver was slim, attractive, black, and wore glasses. Tanner had a buzz cut, wore a sleeveless T-shirt that showed off biceps twice the size of Peter’s, and held an unlit cigarette between his teeth. They were sharp pointy teeth that gave him a dangerous look.

Pierce offered Ginny her choice of soda, flavored water, beer or something stronger. She chose tap water because the flavored water contained cancer-causing artificial sweeteners. Ginny took the chair between Pierce and Tanner. When Tanner gave her the once over, she inched her chair closer to Pierce. She watched several hands, taking note of which cards Pierce kept, which ones he tossed out, and how he bet. The ante was a dollar.

“What’s the most anyone has won here?” Ginny asked.

“About two hundred,” Pierce said.

“That was me,” Steele said, smiling.

“I still think you cheated,” Oliver said.

“You were wasted and seeing things,” Steele said. “I can’t believe you accused me of keeping aces up my sleeve.”

“What about the time there were five aces in the deck,” Oliver said. “I don’t know how you can call that an accident.”

“How many times do I have to explain this?” Steele said. “We have two identical decks. They got mixed together the night Tanner flipped out over losing sixty bucks and knocked all the cards on the floor.”

Oliver rolled his eyes.

“It wasn’t my fault, right Pierce?” Steele said.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Every time Pierce’s right hand was free, it came to rest on Ginny’s leg. It was a small thing, but she liked the familiarity of it. She didn’t say much but enjoyed listening to the banter between the guys. She could tell from the way they occasionally cut off their sentences that they were toning it down for her sake. Except for Tanner, whose cursing was particularly crude. She learned about the men and the game by observing. Oliver tapped his fingers when he had a good hand. Tanner got quiet. Carl was harder to figure out, as the poor guy never seemed to get a good hand. Pierce kept a straight face through every hand while Steele did the opposite. He was always smiling, and yet it seemed as if he smiled wider when he had a lousy hand.

“I want to play,” Ginny said. “But I don’t have any cash on me.”

“No problem, I’ll cover you,” Pierce said.

“Thanks.”

Steele won the next hand. Tanner won the two after that.

Pierce patted Ginny’s leg. “Maybe you should quit while you’re—”

“Behind? No. I'm not quitting just because I lost a few hands. If I thought like that, I'd never have made Master.”

“Master? Is that some kind of BDSM thing?” Tanner asked, giving Ginny a look that she found creepy.

“It’s a ranking in chess,” Pierce said. “It means she’s smart.”

“It also means I don’t give up easily,” Ginny said.

“Fine by me.” Tanner dealt the next hand. “I don't care how smart you are. I have no problem taking your money.”

Ginny studied her cards, annoyed that once again she’d gotten a lousy hand. She kept a nine and tossed out the other four cards. When she got two more nines, she kept her face as neutral as possible. This was it, something worth betting on.

Steele and Carl folded. Everyone else put their money in. Oliver lay down three fours. Tanner muttered a curse and turned his cards face down.

Feeling triumphant, Ginny showed her hand.

“Sorry.” Pierce put down a full house, two fives, and three sixes.

“No need to apologize,” Ginny said, trying to hide her disappointment as she watched him collect the pot.

The next hand wasn’t much better for Ginny, king high. She decided to try bluffing. She smiled as if she’d gotten something good, and then made an effort to keep a straight face while strumming her fingers as if she was excited. Her plan worked too well. Everyone folded and all she got was ante.

They played on for another hour. Carl was the first to give up. “I’m out of here. Nice meeting you, Ginny.”

“You too.” Ginny meant it. Carl had been quiet, but polite.

Oliver was the next to leave.

Ginny had been keeping track of the money Pierce loaned her. “If my math is right, I owe you forty-eight dollars.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean don’t worry about it? I played for real. I’ll pay my debts.”

“This was your maiden voyage. You get a pass.”

“I don’t want a pass.”

“Well, you don’t have a choice. I’m not taking your money.”

“You're being sexist. If I were a guy, you'd take my money, even on the first time.”

Steele chuckled. Ginny noticed that his eyes were glossy from too much alcohol. She glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said with mock innocence.

At the front door, Pierce’s hand rested lightly on her back. He turned toward the stairs that led to the basement. “Do you want to stay?”

Ginny could hear Tanner and Steele’s loud voices coming from the kitchen, Tanner cursing every other word.

“It bothers me that Steele knows about my, um, offer. The way he smiles all the time makes me feel like he’s laughing at me.”

“That's not it. He's a salesman. He can't help smiling all the time. He's also drunk.”

Pierce unfolded her arms and put them around his neck. His hands came to rest on her hips. This caused a jolt of excitement.

He kissed her. For a “lips only” kiss it was far from chaste. Ginny swayed toward him and felt another jolt of excitement when their hips came together. She felt his warm breath in her ear.

“Stay.”

“Fuck,” Tanner said. “I need to take a crap.”

“Turn the fan on this time,” Steele said. “Last time I damn nearly keeled over.”

Ginny giggled.

Pierce did not look amused. “Sorry. Steele’s drunk and Tanner is an asshole. I don’t know why Steele hangs out with him. Do you want to go downstairs?”

Ginny shook her head. “I should go.”

As she walked to her car, it occurred to her that this was another win for Sensible Ginny.

****

Pierce found Steele in the kitchen, holding a full shot glass and smiling. “You didn’t even get her downstairs. I’m disappointed in you.”

“If you weren’t grinning like an idiot, she might not have left. It bothers her that you know about her offer.”

“What you need,” Steele went on, as if Pierce hadn’t spoken, “is extra incentive. How about we double our bet? A hundred bucks and the loser cleans the kitchen for two weeks?”

“What are you betting on?” Tanner asked, as he entered the kitchen.

“Nothing,” Pierce said.

“Come on, tell me. I want in.”

“Pierce wants in too,” Steele said, grinning. “That’s what we’re betting on.”

“That girl?” Tanner’s eyes lit up. “You’re betting he can’t pork her? How much?”

“Fifty,” Steele said.

Tanner pulled a few bills out of his pocket. “I’m definitely in. She looked a bit uptight.”

“Jesus, you’re both assholes,” Pierce said. “We’re not betting on Ginny.”

“Too late, we already did,” Steele said.

Knowing there was no point in talking to Steele in his current condition, or to Tanner in any condition, Pierce didn’t bother trying.

****

It was raining when Ginny arrived at her grandmother’s house on Sunday. Her dad’s motorcycle was nowhere in sight, which was a relief. She found her mother, grandmother, and sister in the kitchen. The room smelled of cinnamon. There was coffee cake on the counter.

Bryn stood next to it, waiting for it to cool. Calories meant nothing to Bryn. They simply burned away the moment they entered her body. Ginny tried not to hate her for it.

Bryn wore a long skirt and a button up blouse that was downright dowdy.

“Did you have a job interview or something?”

“I went to church with Jason and his mother. I’m worried that Evelyn expects this to be a regular thing. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I like to sleep in on Sunday mornings. Besides, it was boring.”

“I do hope you and Jason have discussed your religious differences,” Janelle said.

“We have,” Bryn said. “I told him I’d go sometimes, and he’s okay with that. It’s just that Evelyn is very into church. It’s hard to tell how Jason really feels about things. When he’s around his mother I get the feeling he’ll say anything to make her happy.”

“Yep,” Ginny said. “He’s always been that way.”

“You have to tread carefully here,” Janelle said. “Set boundaries right from the start, or you’ll always play second fiddle to his mother.”

Ginny knew that her mother was speaking from experience. The annoyed sound that came from Grandma Cotton meant she knew it too. It was best to move the conversation along quickly. “Did Evelyn ask you about children? Jason told me that her biggest fear is that he won’t give her grandchildren before she dies.”

“Why would she be worried about that?” Grandma Cotton asked. “He’s a young man.”

“Evelyn might be worried that she won’t be around long enough to see them,” Janelle said. “She does have a heart condition.”

“Jason thinks she exaggerates it.” Ginny remembered how Evelyn's heart condition had worsened when Jason got into MIT and lessened after he declined his dream college to stay in the state and be near her.

“He told me that too,” Bryn said. “The subject of children did come up. There were some adorable babies at church this morning. I can’t wait to get pregnant. We’re going to have three kids. Jason is all for me being a stay-at-home mom. He makes good money, you know.”

“Speaking of money, don’t you have to work this afternoon?” Janelle said. “If you’re late again your boss might fire you.”

“She’ll never fire me,” Bryn said. “Customers love me. I’m not leaving without my coffee cake.”

“It should be cool enough to cut now.” Grandma Cotton got out the plates.

I must be strong. The boiled egg and grapefruit were filling and satisfying and all the energy my body needs until lunchtime.

“I just wish you’d picked a different week,” Janelle said. “It always rains the first week in June. It’s the curse of the Portland Rose Festival. If it rains, it will ruin everything.”

“Don’t tell me you’re worrying about rain again,” Walt said, as he came into the room. “If it rains we’ll just squeeze everyone into the house.”

“We can't even fit your immediate family into the house,” Janelle said. “We should rent a tent just in case. If you'd sell that damned motorcycle, we'd have more money to put into this.”

“I can’t sell it like it is. It needs a new clutch,” Walt said.

“You should take it to Vaughn Brother’s Bikes,” Ginny said. “The owner is a friend of mine.”

“Don't go putting money into fixing it unless you’re serious about selling it this time,” Janelle said.

Walt ignored his wife. “Where is this place?”

Ginny told him about Pierce and his shop. Five minutes later, she was out in the wood shop happily admiring her father’s newest pet urn. Ginny was glad to talk to someone who could go ten minutes without mentioning the wedding.  

****

Jason hadn’t told Ginny that he was bringing Hank to chess club, which in retrospect was just as well. She hadn’t gotten nervous beforehand. She hadn’t been overly nervous when she’d met Hank either. There had been a moment or two of wondering what to say to a new person, but Jason had filled it in with small talk that included both of them. After that, Ginny had felt fairly comfortable with Hank. They’d even played a couple of games of speed chess. Hank hadn’t seemed to mind when Ginny had beaten him, nor had he gloated when he’d won the next one.

When she got home, she was still thinking about Hank. He was reasonably attractive, with light brown hair and brown eyes, a bit on the heavy side, but not too much so. Overall he was kind of ordinary but in a good way. Hank was the kind of guy she would have imagined being in a relationship with if she’d ever imagined being with anyone other than Jason. He’d suggested they get together sometime. They’d exchanged numbers. It had all been so easy. Wasn’t that how it was supposed to be?

All this pining for Jason craziness had to end. Same for the goal. There was no logical reason for her to jump into bed with Pierce, or any other guy, just so that she could have sex before Jason did. Okay, so maybe she did feel foolish for having waited so long for a man who didn’t want her, but that didn’t mean she should continue doing foolish things.

Ginny changed into her pajamas and got into bed. She picked up a paperback, but couldn’t focus on the story. Instead, she invented a story of her own. Hank would ask her out. They’d go on a few casual dates and get to know each other. Things would progress in the usual way. They'd fall in love. They'd have sex. She wouldn't be afraid because it would feel right. Marriage would follow, and in a few years, they'd have kids. There would be big family get-togethers. Seeing Jason with Bryn wouldn't bother her at all. In fact, she'd think it was silly that she'd ever imagined herself in love with Jason.

Ginny's phone rang. It was Pierce. Her heart beat faster with every ring. There was no reason to talk to Pierce or see him again. He had no place in her current fantasy.

It occurred to her, long after the last ring, when she was nearly asleep, that this little fantasy had been the invention of Sensible Ginny. That was okay. Sensible Ginny must know what she was talking about because she made sense. Well, most of the time anyway.