Playing House--Chapter Nine
“What’s this for?” Pierce tapped the fifty dollar bill he found stuck to the refrigerator door with Caleb’s letter magnets. They spelled the word BET.
“I thought it was self –explanatory. You’re seeing Ginny again. That means the bet’s back on.” Steele set a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of Caleb.
Pierce opened the refrigerator, got out the container of orange juice and took a long drink. He was hungry, but with a seven -course meal ahead of him he figured he’d better wait to eat. He closed the refrigerator door and stared at the fifty. “I’m not seeing Ginny because of the bet.”
“But is she only seeing you because of her offer?”
“I don't think so.”
“But you don't know.”
He didn’t. “You already got your money. The bet's over.”
“If you succeed, you get your fifty back. It's only fair.”
Pierce shrugged, and turned his attention to Caleb, who was chatting excitedly about Libby, the teenager who was coming over to babysit for the evening. A three-year-old couldn’t be expected to sit through a three-hour dinner. Pierce wasn’t even sure that he could.
He used the reflection on the sliding glass door as a mirror, trying, for the third time, to get the tie done right.
“Is that my tie you’re mangling?” Steele asked.
“Yes,” Pierce said.
“Dude, you can’t wear that shirt.”
“Why? Does it clash with the tie?”
“Yeah, but that’s not why. It needs to be ironed.”
“I don’t iron.”
Steele grunted and left the room. He came back a moment later with a brick red, wrinkle-free dress shirt. “Here, wear this.”
Pierce changed into it.
“This was a bad idea wasn’t it?” he asked as he put the tie around his neck. “Bringing Ginny, I mean.”
“I’m not even going to answer that.” Steele reached for the two dangling ends of the tie and quickly made a perfect knot.
“If I bring a guest they’ll have to act civilized, right?”
“When did you become delusional?”
“When did you become so cynical?”
“I’m being realistic. You know Dad will be his usual pompous self and Charmaine will say things to embarrass us. You obviously weren’t thinking clearly when you invited Ginny.”
This was true. He hadn’t been thinking clearly. He wasn’t usually impulsive and had been regretting it ever since, but there was no way to cancel now, not without hurting her feelings.
“You’re not trying to impress Dad, are you? Prove to him that you can find a nice, normal girlfriend?”
It had been a year and a half since the Trina fiasco. Pretty, outgoing, and fun—not to mention great in bed—Pierce had been thinking of marriage after only a few months. He'd been so naïve. What happened when he brought Trina to dinner at his father's house could never be undone or forgotten. Neither could the argument that he'd had with his father afterward. Things had never been good between them, but they'd barely spoken in the last year. They put up with each other at family events, and that was about it. “I don't care what Dad thinks.”
“Bullshit.”
“Don’t say shit,” Caleb said.
“Sorry, Son.”
Pierce left the house before Steele could continue playing shrink with him. He didn’t need that, and had gotten enough of it from his father over the years. When it came to his own family, David Vaughn’s methods had been sorely lacking. Steele’s message stayed with him. Maybe he was setting himself up to get burned again. But when he was with Ginny, it didn’t feel like that.
Traffic was lighter than usual. Pierce arrived at Ginny’s apartment fourteen minutes early. It was better to wait in the car than to seem too anxious, he decided.
Four minutes had gone by when Pierce’s phone rang. Ginny. He almost hoped she was calling to cancel. “Hello?”
“Are you going to knock on the door or sit out there and wait for me to come down?”
Pierce glanced up at the window, and there was Ginny. She gave him a little wave. Damn, how embarrassing. “I didn’t want to show up early.”
“It’s only ten minutes. Anyway, I’m ready. You don’t have to come up. I’ll be right down.”
It didn’t feel right waiting for her in the car. Pierce got out. By the time he reached the bottom step, Ginny was on her way down. Her hair was pinned up, instead of loose around her shoulders. Her dress was red. It tied behind her neck, and dipped low in the front, so low that she couldn't be wearing a bra. Her breasts were well covered, but it would be easy enough to slip a hand under the material. Pierce shook his head, tearing his eyes away from her chest. Getting through this evening was going to be hard enough. Thinking about sex would not make it easier.
“I heard there was a dress code. Is this dress all right?”
Pierce kept his eyes on her face. “The dress is fine. You look nice.”
“Thanks.” Ginny’s tone was as lackluster as his compliment.
Gorgeous. Why hadn’t he told her she looked gorgeous?
Pierce opened the passenger side door for her and walked around to the driver’s side. He felt a sudden urge to tell her dinner had been canceled and take her somewhere else, just the two of them. He couldn't back out now, not after asking Charmaine to add Ginny to the reservation.
“This is your car?” Ginny asked.
“It is.” Embarrassed by the chipped black paint and cracked windshield on his 1972 Porsche, he explained. “I bought it to fix up, but we’re so busy at work that I don't have time to work on it.”
This was only partially true. On his one day off a week, he didn’t feel like working on it.
“I just wondered because you have a booster seat crammed in the back.”
“It's easier to have two car seats than to move one around all the time. Some nights Steele works late, and I pick Caleb up from daycare.”
“You share parenting duties?”
“I guess you could say that.” They also shared shirts and ties. Not that he’d admit to wearing his brother’s clothes.
Pierce reached for her hand, and she immediately entwined her fingers with his. No way was this about that offer.
****
Valet parking, candles on the tables, a view of the Willamette River—it would have been romantic if it were just the two of them. Instead, they were a party of five.
Charmaine wore a slinky dress that showed off her tan, toned arms and her cleavage. Pierce’s dad was tall, handsome, slim and fit in a gray suit. He had a neatly trimmed black beard, without a single gray hair. Was it possible for a man who was well into his fifties to not have any gray? Was he vain enough to dye it?
The first dish was fancy bread with olive oil for dipping. Ginny didn’t like olive oil and only pretended to dip her bread. Charmaine, she noticed, left the bread on her plate.
David was friendly, charming even, and yet there was an intensity about him that made her feel as if he were assessing her. Or was it only that she knew he was a psychiatrist, so she expected it? Pierce spoke to his father in a stiff, formal voice.
“Ginny, tell us about yourself,” Charmaine said, filling her wine glass for the fourth time.
Ginny felt a flutter of anxiety. How should she describe herself? Beneath the table, Pierce’s hand covered hers.
“I work downtown at a bank. I process mortgage loans.”
Charmaine smiled. “How utterly dull that sounds.”
Ginny felt her cheeks fill with heat. “Once in a while, something interesting happens.”
“Give us an example.” Charmaine brought her hands together in a soundless clap. “Tell us a story.”
“Uh…”
“You don't have to,” Pierce said.
His hand tightened on hers.
“I do have one story.” Ginny took a deep breath before continuing. “One time, a recently married couple was in my office to sign papers for a loan—”
The server arrived with the next course, a cup of curry soup. Ginny hoped that everyone would forget about her story. No such luck. After raving about how good the soup was Charmaine encouraged her to continue.
“Okay, so this couple was in the office to sign the final papers for their new house—”
“Were they young or old?” Charmaine asked.
“Mid- thirties,” Ginny said.
“Was it their first house?” Charmaine asked.
“It was his but not hers.”
“Were they attractive?”
“Stop interrupting,” David said, lightly touching Charmaine’s arm.
“The details are important,” Charmaine said. “I need to be able to picture the scene when I hear a story.”
“She was pretty and wore a short skirt and boots. He was too skinny and wore ugly brown pants that were too short.”
“Now I see it,” Charmaine said.
Ginny hesitated, nervousness making her forget her story for a second. Her family had laughed when she told it, but that didn't mean these people would. Pierce's knee bumped hers, and she took that as encouragement to continue. “So one of the papers they had to sign asked them to write down any previous names they'd used. The man had nothing to write and quickly signed his name. The woman hesitated, holding her pen over the paper for a good thirty seconds, before writing down three names. The man's face turned red. He asked me to excuse them for a minute. They went into the hallway. I could see them through the window, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. He grabbed her arm, whispering fiercely. She kept stroking his hand like she was trying to calm him down. This went on for about ten minutes. When they came back in, they went back to signing papers like nothing had happened.”
No one laughed. Not even a snicker.
“She’d been married before and hadn’t told him?” Pierce asked.
“Yes,” Ginny said. “A few times apparently.”
“That must have been terribly awkward for you,” Charmaine said.
No more so than this conversation.
“They went through with it and bought the house?” David asked.
“Yes.”
“I bet that marriage didn’t last long,” Steele said.
Ginny was relieved when the next course arrived, a salad with caramelized pecans and pear slices.
Charmaine took over the conversation. “The twins were eight when I married David. They were the sweetest boys, but so different. Steele was a chatterbox and did all the talking for both of them. Pierce wants this, and Pierce wants that. It was so cute. David tells me that Pierce didn’t talk until he was three and a half.”
“We were very worried about him,” David said.
Ginny looked at Pierce. He shrugged. “I didn’t have anything to say.”
“My theory is that Pierce didn’t talk because Steele could read his mind,” Charmaine said.
“I still can,” Steele said. “Right now he wants you to stop telling Ginny stories about him.”
“He’s right,” Pierce said.
“That wouldn't be any fun. Besides, I’m just getting started. Would you believe these two shared the same twin bed until they were eleven?”
Pierce pressed his fingers to his forehead as if it hurt.
“They had their own beds of course, but they were so close back then that they preferred to share. When they were twelve, they even shared a girlfriend.”
“Annie,” Pierce and Steele said in unison, each wearing a little smile at what was apparently a good memory.
The main course arrived. Baby red potatoes and lamb.
Ginny took a bite of potato. It tasted of rosemary and butter. It was so delicious that she immediately took another bite. A bit of butter stayed on her lips. She wiped it off with her napkin. Ginny saw Charmaine watching her. “These potatoes are amazing.”
“I don't eat starchy foods. They’re much too fattening. I’ve found that a diet of lean protein and lots of fruits and vegetables is the best way to maintain my figure. It’s what keeps David slim too. We started it when he discovered that his best suit had become too tight. This happened right before he was to make a presentation in front of hundreds of the country’s top psychiatrists. One week on my diet plan and he could button those pants again no problem.” She patted David’s arm. “Now look at him. How many men look this good at fifty-seven?”
It didn't seem like the kind of question a person was supposed to answer, but David did look good. If he was embarrassed by his wife pointing it out, it didn't show. If anything he seemed to have sat up straighter. Ginny looked down at her plate. Suddenly, the potatoes didn't look quite so amazing. “Lean protein, huh?”
“And lots of vegetables. It’s the added sugar in processed foods that is making this a country of fatties. Obesity leads to diabetes and heart disease.”
“It’s not good for the brain either,” David said. “It’s a sad fact that most people give very little thought to the health of their brains.”
Ginny tried to remember the last time she’d seriously considered her brain. Nothing came to mind. David started telling her about the relatively new field of brain imaging. The mind and the brain are not separate things, as many people believe. Without a functioning brain, there can be no thoughts. Ginny found it interesting, though everyone else at the table appeared to be bored out of their brains by talk they'd heard before.
The meal was nearly over when David asked Ginny about her family and what her parents did for a living.
“My mom teaches middle school algebra.”
“And you work for a bank,” David said. “You must be a family of number people. What does your father do?”
There was no reason to tell them about her dad losing his construction business. “He has a business making pet urns.”
“Pet urns? Well, I’m sure there’s a need.” David’s tone didn’t match his words.
“They’re very popular now.” Ginny felt the need to defend her father. “You’d be surprised by how many people want to keep the remains of their pets. Some people even have them stuffed.”
“Stuffed?” David turned to Charmaine. “Would you like to have Princess stuffed and sitting on the mantle watching over us?”
“I’m sure Princess would love the idea,” Pierce mumbled.
Charmaine threw them both dirty looks. “Not stuffed, but a pretty urn would be a nice way to keep her memory close.”
“What are these urns made out of?” David asked.
“Wood. He designs and carves them himself. Some are quite intricate and take a lot of time. The fancy ones cost more, of course.”
“He must be good with his hands.” David held out his own hands. “I wish I had artistic talents, but these hands aren’t good for much.”
“I wouldn't say that,” Charmaine said, giving him a seductive smile and reaching under the table to squeeze his leg.
At least Ginny assumed it was his leg she was squeezing. She couldn't see under the table. Embarrassed to witness a display of affection between Pierce’s parents, she stared at her plate to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
“I only meant that some of us aren’t cut out for physical work and have to settle for using our minds,” David said.
Despite his light tone, Ginny took the comment seriously. Was this a backward way of insulting her father for not being a white collar professional?
“David wanted to be a surgeon,” Charmaine said.
“My hands weren’t steady enough.”
Oh, he was talking about himself.
“In one respect I'm thankful.” David continued to study his hands. “All that scrubbing is hell on the skin. Of course, blood washes away more easily than grease.”
Pierce set his water glass down with a thunk. “Surgeons wear gloves. There wouldn't be any blood to wash away.”
A long silence followed.
Finally, Charmaine started talking again, telling more stories about Pierce and Steele.
When the evening was finally over, Pierce and David having not said another word to each other the whole time, Pierce apologized to Ginny.
“I’m sorry I put you through that,” he said as he opened the car door for her.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Ginny said.
Pierce gave her an incredulous look.
“Okay, it was a little uncomfortable at times, but dinner with my family can be bad too, especially when my mom and grandma are shooting little jabs at each other, or when my mom and dad are bickering about some silly thing.”
Pierce didn't talk much on the drive to Ginny's house. She kept stealing glances at his profile, trying to think of some way to engage him in conversation but decided it might be best to wait it out. He'd talk if he felt like it.
“Thank you,” Ginny said when they were back at her house. “The food was good.”
Pierce gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “I thought if you were there, things might go more smoothly. My dad always finds a way to put me down.”
“I’m sorry. Do you want to come inside?”
Pierce shook his head. “It’s late.”
“It’s not even nine o’clock and tomorrow is Memorial Day. The bank is closed.”
“I still have to work tomorrow. Holidays are busy for us. It will be a long day.”
Ginny wasn’t ready for him to leave. Wanting to kiss him and put him in a better mood, she moved closer and stroked his tie with her fingertip. “You look good in a tie.”
“I clean up nice, is that what you’re saying?”
Stung, by his harsh tone, she jerked her hand back. With no idea how to respond, she picked up her purse, got out of the car and stomped up the stairs to her apartment.
Ginny took off her dress and changed into summer pajamas, thinking of things she could have said, things like “It’s not my fault your dad is an arrogant ass, so don’t take it out on me.”
She was hanging up the dress when she heard a knock on the door. She answered it.
“Ginny, I’m sorry,” Pierce said.
The sincerity in his voice caused her anger to vanish. She took his hand and pulled him inside. “Maybe I shouldn't say this, but your father seems a bit full of himself.”
“A bit?” Pierce said, almost smiling. “The thing is, we had a falling out a while back and I said some things I shouldn't have said, and we haven’t talked much since.”
“It wasn’t something you could just apologize for?”
He shrugged while working his tie loose. “We’ve always clashed. It would take twenty-nine years of apologies to fix it all.”
Pierce took off the tie and undid the top button on his shirt. Ginny reached over and undid the second one. “There, now you can breathe.”
Ginny felt the warmth of his lips on her forehead, his arms encircling her. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Talk to me. Tell me about you and your dad.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“I bet there’s plenty to tell.”
Pierce sighed. “When I was slow to talk he was afraid there might be something seriously wrong with me.”
“Obviously, he was wrong.” Ginny took his hand and led him to the sofa.
“My dad is the type to take that kind of thing personally. He brought me to all kinds of specialists, even after I started talking. According to all the tests they put me through my IQ was way above average. In the end, it didn’t mean much. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for not being a genius.”
“That’s silly. There’s nothing wrong with how you turned out.”
“He thinks I should have pursued higher education, thinks I’m wasting my brain.”
“Do you feel that way?”
“Sometimes I feel like I should, but I don’t. I like what I do.”
“That’s a whole lot better than hating your job, or not having any idea what you want to do, like my sister. When my dad owned his construction business, he sometimes worked fourteen hour days. He’d be exhausted and stressed out most of the summer. Now he’s working on my grandma's farm and making pet urns, and he seems happier, but my mom doesn't like it because he’s not earning a good income.”
“That’s rough. We’re making a decent profit now so I get to like what I do and make money at it, can’t complain about that.”
Ginny moved closer, rested her head against his shoulder. “Is your work the main thing you and your dad argue about?”
“No. In high school, there was the whole Desiree thing. After he had her arrested, things were so bad between us that I pretty much had to live with my mom. I found school boring, so I didn't go very often. Afraid I wouldn't graduate my parents agreed that I should go back to my dad and Charmaine's for senior year. As soon I turned eighteen, Desiree showed up.”
“I bet your dad didn’t like that.”
“He didn’t know. Not at first. I should have been over her, but I wasn’t. It turns out, Desiree had an ulterior motive. She told me this whole story about her boyfriend, how he hit her and stole her car. I was such an idiot. I believed her stories and was willing to do whatever she asked, even help her get her car back. It turns out the car was in his name, not hers. Calling my dad to bail me out of jail for car theft ranks as one of the worst moments of my life.”
“That must have been awful.”
“What’s even more embarrassing is that Desiree’s ex is the one who saved me. When he realized who I was and that I’d been duped by Desiree, something he too had been a victim of, he called it a misunderstanding, and dropped the charges.”
“You were a kid. She took advantage of you.”
“That’s not how my dad saw it. If I’d listened to him in the first place…”
“That’s just a parent thing. They think our lives would be perfect if only we listened to them, did what they believe is right for us. So your dad thinks you should have gone to college. To do what?”
Pierce shrugged. “I don’t know, something that involves sitting behind a desk I suppose. I can’t do that.”
“Then you made the right choice. You just have to find a way to not let your dad’s comments get to you, though I’m sure that’s not easy.”
“No.”
Pierce stayed a while longer. He seemed to be in a better mood by the time he left. At the door, he gave her a long hug. When she lay down to sleep, Ginny pulled her pajama top up to her nose, because it smelled like Pierce and she couldn't get enough of it.