Ledge Walkers Page 12

Claudia handed Ginny paper and a pencil. She instructed, “So, Professor Bleeker, we need you to do a little listing for us, just to show us how it's done by a professional. We want a list of what happened in each of our classes today—except for that horrid highway cleaning one. We can skip that one.” She shot me a dirty look and then returned her attention to Ginny. She stressed, “And for your list, you can only use M-words."

  "You've got to be kidding!” Ginny yelled and started laughing.

  "Get busy, Professor. You have exactly five minutes,” I said.

  "Can we help her?” Alison asked, somehow excited about the task.

  "Sure. Go for it!” Claudia said. “Start with our first class, which, if you recall, was recess."

  "Mimosas!” Susan yelled automatically.

  "You are right, Susan,” Claudia congratulated and patted her on the back.

  Then she stopped in mid-pat. I could feel it. She whipped her face toward me and shot a series of questions. The escaped killer had escalated from strangulation to firearms. “Kate, is she wearing your shirt? Is that what happened to your shirt? Is that your shirt? Is Susan wearing your shirt?"

  Like a low-grade idiot who acted as if she were dealing with an equal, I shrugged my shoulders and contorted my face into one of those abstract messes meant to indicate, “I have no clue what the hell you are talking about.My shirt? It couldn't be!"

  She continued to stare at me while shouting, “The second class was with Janice. Maybe she can help."

  As the word “massage” eventually made the rounds a hundred times and got added to Ginny's paper, she moved to within a millimeter of my face. “Is it, Kate? That's your shirt, isn't it?"

  "Yes,” I said like a coy snake. “But remember, you are an authority on trust now."

  She backed up, maybe a foot, maybe two. She smiled and then took her index finger and stabbed the word

  “Dead” on my shirt and then did the same to “Meat.” With an evil, evil twinkle in her eyes, she repeated the gesture that had originally created the arrow. She stared at me and yelled, “The third class was with Charles.

  Maybe Charlize can help with that one."

  The “makeup” was achieved rather quickly, but as we waited for “masks,” she moved back into my face and snaked her hand behind me. The killer escalated from strangulation to firearms to—bra snapping?

  My jaw dropped. I was indignant. “That's not trust!” I declared, and there was no way in hell that I would allow myself to remember that Susan had indeed asked for my bra instead of my shirt.

  The “mask” was attained, and my tormenter shouted, “The next class was lunch. Payback time for messing with people, remember?"

  I knew the question was directed at me. I may have been low-grade, but I certainly was not a no-grade.

  I found myself scared—and a little intrigued—about where she would check me next. I concentrated on not laughing, as I remained uncertain if I was truly dead meat or not.

  The predictable “Mad Cow” bellowed, but “Molly” had yet to be spotted. Claudia's arm snaked around me again, this time sliding down the back of my pants and grabbing my poor little—okay, not so little—undies.

  With a yank, she had me and whispered, “Just making sure they're not on the side of a road next to an empty Road Swill cup."

  I thought I felt her shake with laughter, but it could just as easily have been me.

  When “Molly” finally found herself identified, Claudia yelled from my shoulder, “Skip the highway cleanup, girls. Nothing there we want to see. Move on to the cafeteria. Cheerleader gets the nerd, remember?"

  No, but I knew that I would eventually, because she was indeed about to get me. As if by divine intervention, Holly's words ran through my mind:look innocent ... smile a lot ... nibbling kisses. Before she could move away from me and focus on her next target, I pulled her into my arms. I tried to look innocent; I threw on a pout, but I knew from the feel of it that I didn't wear it very well. I smiled broadly. That was easy, but did it work? Her green eyes just stared into me.

  Alison suddenly yelled, “Claudia, we can't get this one. Help us."

  "It's ‘meal.’ Move on to the next one. It was Health and Sociology,” she said without breaking her gaze.

  Those eyes!How was this meant to weaken her and embolden me when my own knees began to fail?

  "Margarita” introduced herself, and without missing a beat or a bat of those eyes, Claudia yelled, “The next class—the last class—was Psychology."

  Risking it all, I moved in to kiss her. She returned each one very sweetly. “I need you,” I whispered, and I knew that to be truthful. Then Holly's distant voice chanted in my skull, “nibbling, nibbling.” And so I did. Short little nibbles, tiny little tugs, and before I knew it, “Oh, honey!” thundered from my lips. As I tried to pull her even closer, she jerked herself back while a very loud “Kate!” soared in my direction from across the room. I breathlessly looked to find all eyes on me.

  I should have been mortified. I should have apologized. I should have been and done a lot of things. Instead, I laughed so hard that I could barely stand. I had followed Holly's advice to a tee, to a frickin’ tee, and it worked just like she was certain it would. Only, it worked on me. I had, in essence, seduced myself into surrender while Claudia stood there, still in command. The killer had handed me the ammo, and instead of defending myself, I shot myself in the foot. This type of ammo must have been victim-specific. I descended to the floor and to the level of no-grade.

  Seamlessly, Claudia put her hands on my shoulders and shouted, “If you're stuck on this one, girls, think words that start with an M sound not the letter.” She pulled my head back so that it rested on her, and she stroked my forehead. Then, she added, “If you become your partner and suddenly know what they feel, you have discovered, what?"

  "Empathy!” Ginny yelled.

  "You got it! Now let me see your list.” Taking it from the final hand that passed it, she read, acknowledging only the ones that mattered, “Mimosas, massage, masks, Molly, meal, Margaritas, and empathy. Can you get the gist of the big essay, Professor?"

  Ginny raised a finger as if she could. Then she dropped her hand and slowly offered a very defeated, “No."

  Suddenly back in control, I stood tall and said, “You guys go away every year for your anniversary, to that B&B up north. How does your first day begin?"

  Ginny thought while Kris covered her mouth and started giggling. Then I could see the light turn on in Ginny's head. “Mimosas!” she yelled. “And chocolate strawberries!” She rose and darted to Claudia, ripping the paper from her hand. She read the list quickly and then fired off, “And then we get massages and mineral masks! We have a meal out somewhere nice. We have Margaritas! We call Molly!"

  Her jaw dropped. She stared at Claudia ... me ... and then she quickly spun on her heels toward Kris. “You big shit!” she yelled. “You big shit!” She was smiling, and Kris gloated. They hugged, and Ginny gave her a long kiss. She turned to Claudia and queried, “I get what you've done to me, but why ‘empathy'?"

  "Don't you guys always do something to ‘strengthen your relationship’ for the coming year?"

  She slowed her racing mind for a moment and acknowledged that they always attended a couple's workshop at the GLB resource center in the area. Claudia prodded until she got her to remember the one they would miss this year because Kris had “something more important to do.” She finally yelled, “Walking in Your Better Half's Shoes!"

  She fell back into the couch, let out a deep breath, and said, “Okay, you got me! You got me really good."

  "Don't get too comfy there,” Kris said to her. “We're just getting started."

  Kris’ eyes teared up, and Ginny warned her, “Don't you dare make me start crying!"

  "Twenty-five years is a big deal, sweetie. It deserves a few tears, some silver, and a question.” She pulled a jewelry box from her pocket and sat next to her. “First, I want to say thank you for the last twenty-five
years. I am so very lucky to have you. Second, I want to know if I can have twenty-five more. Will you marry me again?” She opened the box to reveal two thin silver bands.

  Ginny cried full force. “Now,you can all watch me frisk her in public!” She wrapped her arms around her, meshing the two of them in a way that I had never witnessed.

  What they whispered between them remained private, and it gave the others in the group a chance to talk among themselves.

  "I still don't get how Molly fits into this,” Alison remarked. She seemed almost angry at not getting the full gist of that big essay.

  Ginny and Kris pulled apart, and Kris explained, “On our fifth anniversary, we had a commitment ceremony. A lovely woman minister at our church, Nadine, agreed to do it for us, in private, though, because something like that was even a worse in those days. We didn't tell anyone, but we brought Molly along as our witness. I don't think she even told her husband. Every year we just give her a call to thank her for being there for us."

  "So, Ginny, did you say yes or not?” Holly demanded to know, hands on hips.

  "I'd be a fool not to,” she replied, beaming.

  "Well, I have something else for you from my little workshop, but if you want this one, you have to trade,” Kris teased Ginny.

  "What am I trading?"

  "I won't tell you what you'd be getting, but you have to give up that ugly Eiffel Tower feeder from the front lawn for it. Into the trash with it, for what I have in another pocket."

  We all knew that feeder thing, and it was indeed ugly. If you drove down their street, it was the thing that loomed out at you.

  Ginny was not pleased at the prospect, but the jabbing reminders about trust and compromise went a long way, and she finally agreed. From her pocket, Kris retrieved two plane tickets, and when Ginny discovered that they were for a trip to Paris—somewhere she had always longed to go—she was beyond ecstatic. At once, she realized that this was why they would not be going away on their traditional outing. “We're going here instead!”

  she cried. “Oh my God!"

  "Actually, we leave in four hours,” Kris said.

  "Oh my God, let's get moving. I need to pack!"

  "Done,” Kris replied smugly. “You've got the keys to the luggage on that Eiffel Tower keychain you swiped from me. And we have a chauffeur to get us to the airport on time."

  She looked at me, and I slammed my foot into the bottom step three times. On cue, Molly descended the stairs, receiving hugs from everyone.

  But, Molly had something else in mind. She approached Kris, popped her shoulder, and spat, “So that's it, Kris?

  You ask her to marry you, and then you think you can just skip ahead to a honeymoon in Paris? I've known Ginny all my life!” She put her arm around Ginny and backed her away from the now-lecherous Kris. “She's not that kind of girl. She's not a floozy. So either put your money where your mouth is or she's not going. Are you, honey?” She stroked Ginny's head with thick melodrama, and neither Kris nor Ginny knew what the hell was going on.

  Kris’ eyes shot to Claudia and me. It was priceless. The detailed, sweated-over script had been shredded, and Kris squirmed.

  "Well, Kris?” Claudia shouted. “What are you going to do about it?"

  "Yeah, Kris, did you really have any intention of making an honest woman out of her?” I added.

  "I will!” she assured. “Planning a trip for her is one thing, but planning anything else—she never would have forgiven me. We will plan it and do it. What the hell are you two up to?” Her balloon had been pierced and was quickly collapsing in on itself.

  "Oh, it wasn't just the two of us!” Claudia boasted. “Girls, remember the donations we solicited from you? This is what we all bought. We got our own plane ticket!"

  With that, I banged another three times, and a tiny woman with a very big presence came down the stairs.

  "Well, Kris, whatare you prepared to do about it?” Nadine challenged. “I married you two the first time. You up for a second?"

  Kris and Ginny did not move, did not speak. We, on the other hand, whooped and hollered and high-fived.

  "How the heck—” Kris started.

  "I'm a reporter,” I interrupted. “It's my job to snoop. You really start spilling beans when you get sleepy, Kris.

  Nadine's been living and working in Vermont. We—all of us—had her flown in and put her up at the hotel downtown. Oh, and those handwritten papers of yours that I said really should be typed up?” I ducked into the laundry room and came out with a plastic sheath that contained their original vows. “I lied. I just thought they might come in handy. But thanks for trusting me anyway.” Now, I gloated.

  I walked to her to relinquish the papers, and at first I thought she was going to wallop me, but instead she pulled me into a hug. Yes, this do-gooder thing was far more satisfying than a D-Double-D road sign.

  She turned to Ginny and asked, “So what do you say, Gin? Are you up for a shotgun wedding?"

  There was not a dry eye in the house. Partner clung to partner. Janice held the sobbing Alison in a friendly, safe embrace. Charlize clutched Sam's shirt, and their sniffing sounds far exceeded their whimpers. And Claudia?

  She was Claudia. She quietly cried from a place very deep inside, and she attached herself to me as if trying to remove any distinction. I loved her so much in that moment, just as I knew I would in the very next.

  As a reporter, I thought it imperative to record every word, every expression, every nuance, as if history itself depended upon my accounting. Then, I realized that despite a room full of people, the universe had been reduced to two. This was theirs, and it was private. We were just lucky enough to be on the edge looking in.

  When the bride finally kissed the other bride, Sam and Charlize popped the corks on champagne bottles and started filling glasses. As they distributed them, I caught Susan staring at me, uncomfortable, desperate. “Come here,” I said. “I think there's ginger ale. I'll join you. Level five is not a good thing."

  I poured us both a glass, and we toasted the happy couple, and ourselves for having survived our walk on the wild side. Then she said, “I just want you to know that I didn't break the promise we all made to the both of you.

  I really thought I stopped at level two. I think I just drank too fast, and it all of a sudden snuck up on me."

  I told her not to worry about it, that she lost nothing in our eyes. Trust still prevailed.

  As everyone mingled, I made my way to Sam to ask him what the hell he had told everyone about the incident at the park.

  "I only insinuated that there was another car there, letting them think that it wasn't us who freaked you out.

  That's all I said! I swear!"

  "Then how come I got a hero's welcome from Laura?” I implored with quiet force.

  "Perhaps you should have a chat with Holly,” Charlize suggested.Holly! Then he flitted to the center of the room and shouted, “Wedding picture! Wedding picture!"

  Everyone huddled in a group with Kris and Ginny at the center. He looked through the camera and then corrected, “Muddy people and dead meat to the back please."

  Respectability and appearance suddenly mattered to this group? It made sense that it came from an outsider who had been readily ingested by the core.

  Molly eventually readied Kris and Ginny for the airport and Nadine for her hotel. Claudia and I had to swear to Ginny that we would take special care of Muse, their cat. Kris made us swear that we would remove the squirrel feeder from their front lawn. Holly made them swear that they would send postcards, bring back presents, and

  ‘accidently’ leave a trail of her business cards through the Louvre.

  Sam and Charlize took off as well, saying they were off “clubbing,” if you could call it that in a city with one gay bar. Before they left, Maggie had a date with Sam to discuss vegan dishes, and Charles, Claudia, Susan, and Holly had a date for lunch and shopping.

  To Alison's delight, Janice decided to brave it and spe
nd the night.

  After they left, a hush took over. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts, and yet it was obvious that the bond between us all, and between partners, had again strengthened. As juvenile and outrageous as we all could be, I honestly did not know what I would do without them. I was grateful.

  Soon, Claudia set about making hot chocolate for everyone while Susan, Holly, and I fought for rights to the shower. After it was determined that I was indeed the dirtiest, I got dibs on first. As I made my way toward the bathroom, I grabbed Holly's arm and dragged her with me.

  Despite the closed door, I still felt the need to whisper. “What the hell did you tell Laura that would make her thank me?"

  "You think I would lie to her?” she challenged with wide eyes. “I've, you know, dressed up the truth a little.”