Choice
Roger’s voice came cheerily over the
phone. “Hi, you. Are you OK?”
“Sure. How about you?”
“Good to go. Will be even better
when I see you tomorrow night.” He paused, picked up the conversation again.
“I’ve got a change in plans, if you’re up to it.”
“Shoot.”
“My friend Eduardo is a Spanish
professor, teaches at MSU, where I work. He invited us for dinner, lives in
East Lansing. Are you game?”
“I think so. Sure. Why not?”
“Great. Pick you up at 6.”
“See you then, ready for adventure.”
Roger drove up to the smallish white
house, a look-alike on the block, and deftly parallel parked. He hurried round
to the passenger side and opened the door for me. “Here we go,” he said.
We walked up the porch steps, shaded
by the porch roof in the afternoon sun. Roger tapped on the door, then stood
back by my side.
The door opened slowly, and a
square-heeled pump, attached to fishnet
hose, found its way seductively out the door, followed by a gloved arm. Last to
appear was a head of curls covered with a hat tilted precariously to the side.
All black.
Bold
red lipstick marked the mouth, pale purple eye shadow framed the eyes, and long
fake eye lashes fluttered sensuously.
“Hola
,” said the figure.
“Hola,
Eduardo,” Roger said. This is my friend Ellie. I told you about her.”
“Welcome, Ellie. Glad you’re here.
Come on in.”
I stepped back momentarily, shaken,
then followed Roger inside.
Edouardo’s family was lined up
against one wall of the living room, sitting stiffly on black metal kitchen
chairs.
“This is my wife Isabella, my
daughters Maria and Camila, our young son Edouardo II, and my wife’s sister
Carmen,” he said, as he pointed out each person. He reached his arm toward me and introduced
me. “This is Ellie.” He moved his arm further and pointed to Roger. “You know him, Roger.”
Edourado slithered into the last
empty chair, laughed, and adjusted the flared skirt of his dress.
We all made attempts at chatting,
without much success. The women’s English was sparse, the children’s better,
though they were shy little things.
Isabella and Carmen went into the
kitchen and soon brought out aromatic platters of food and placed them on a
folding table at one end of the room. I was invited to serve myself first. I
picked up a white voluptuous ceramic plate and was taken aback by cobwebs
lacing across the surface. I surreptitiously wiped it with a brightly colored
napkin and made my selections.
I
waited to eat until everyone had food, glad I did. Edourado invited Isabella to
say a prayer. Her soft sweet voice drifted around the room like hypnotic fog.
We attempted more conversation,
after we were done eating. At last Roger said, “It’s time for us to go. Thank
you for a delicious dinner.”
I added, “Yes, thank you for inviting us. The food was very good. I wish
you all well.”
I and Roger didn’t say a word until
we were settled in the car. After an elongated silence, Roger said, “I’m sorry.
I forgot to warn you that Eduardo likes to cross-dress.”
“I was shocked. Never experienced
anything like that. Eduardo seems very comfortable playing the woman.”
“He does, though doesn’t make it
public. Please, don’t say anything. I wouldn’t want his job to be jeopardized.”
“I won’t. I don’t understand why he
does this weird thing, and I am OK if that’s what he likes to do.”
I
waited a moment, brought up something else that discomfited me. “Are they a
threesome?”
“I’ve wondered that, too. Could be.
Eduardo is a really smart guy, funny, too, though he couldn’t pull it off
tonight.”
“Did I crimp his style?”
“Maybe. Looks like you were also
sideswiped by the cobwebs. Sorry about that. You hid it well.”
“Yes, I was startled. I hope I
didn’t make too big of a scene.”
I
hesitated, then pushed on. “Roger, the worst part is that the women seem
miserable, the children squelched. The adults have made their choices. I’ve
made mine. If I’m invited to their house again, I won’t go.”
Fay L.
Loomis
Fay L. Loomis leads a quiet life in the woods
in Kerhonkson, New York. Member of the Stone Ridge Library Writers and the
Rat's Ass Review Workshop, her writing appears in print and online
publications, most recently in Spillwords, Pleiades: Literature in
Context, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Rats Ass Review, The Passionfruit Review,
Vita & the Woolf, October Hill Magazine, Al-Khemia Poetica, and Loch
Raven Review. Fay’s poems are included in six anthologies.