It’s been proven that women who have orgasms on a regular basis have more energy and suffer fewer illnesses. So going forward I’ll be billing all my vibrators to Blue Cross.
–Fatally Yours
We drove back to my house in silence. I parked in the driveway and pulled the key from the ignition but neither of us reached for the door.
“I still don’t think he did it,” Mary Ann said softly.
I stared at her, my frustration momentarily overriding my sympathy. “How can you not?”
“Because he loves me,” she said softly. “He loves me more than I ever loved him. That’s probably why he cheated on me but…he doesn’t want to kill me. Killing me would kill him.”
“What if Chrissie was right?” I scratched my nails against the leather-bound steering wheel. “What if he didn’t want to kill you? What if he wanted to hurt you by killing Dena?”
“But that…that would have killed me in a different kind of way, you know?” She looked at me and when I didn’t answer she shrugged. “No one could do something like that to someone they love and Rick really loves me.”
“Mary Ann, you could be wrong.”
She opened her mouth to protest but then hesitated. Finally she dropped her head down so that her curls concealed her face from me. “I could be wrong,” she whispered. “But I just so hope that I’m not.”
“Mary Ann…” But I stopped. I really didn’t know what to say.
Mary Ann looked back up at me; her eyes were red from the crying she had done in the restaurant but there were no new tears to wipe away. “Do you have an Advil?” she asked.
“I—” But before I could answer my cell phone rang. Leah’s name flashed across the screen and I held up a hand for Mary Ann to wait a moment as I picked up.
“Hi, Leah, this isn’t the best time—”
“That’s too bad because Jack is with a sitter for exactly one hour and I’m coming over to your place to see Dena.”
“Uh…okay, when will you be here?”
“In approximately two minutes. I’m less than a mile away.”
“Ah, well, I’m glad you called ahead then. I always say that a girl needs at least a hundred and twenty seconds to prepare for company.”
I hung up and smiled at Mary Ann, who looked even more pained than she had before my conversation. “You wanted an Advil?”
She nodded. “Leah’s coming right now?”
“You got it.”
“You think she’s going to want to try to talk about my wedding again?”
“That’s a definite yes.”
“Okay…” Mary Ann squeezed her hands together. “Do you think I could have maybe three Advils?”
True to her word Leah arrived before I even had a chance to put the key in my front door. Mary Ann and I watched as she pulled her Volvo in behind my Audi and then got out of the car. As usual her hair was lacquered into an immovable low ponytail and she was wearing a dark blue wool Chanel-style cropped cardigan with a straight black skirt. I waited for her to come up the steps to us but instead she opened the door to her backseat and took out a Barneys bag which she hung over her arm. She then leaned down and took out a large basket, but this one was filled with fruit, not spa products.
“Wow,” Mary Ann breathed as Leah finally came up the steps. She reached out her hand and touched the top of Leah’s basket. It really was an incredible display filled with luscious grapes, shiny green apples and, most prominently, peaches. Organza ribbons hung from the handle of the long oval basket, the ends of which gently brushed the top of the bonanza of ornate produce.
“Dena likes fruit, right?” Leah looked at my keys and then at the door meaningfully. I smiled and opened it for us. Leah was the first to enter and Mary Ann trailed behind her, still entranced with the fruit.
“It’s so pretty…” she breathed as we made our way into the living room. I couldn’t help but notice that there were two half-finished cocktails on the coffee table and no Dena…or anybody else…to be seen. However Mary Ann didn’t seem at all concerned with that or anything else…well, anything other than the fruit. She reached out and touched it again. “Does it sound weird to say that this arrangement…um…well, it’s sort of romantic? That is weird to say, isn’t it?”
“Not at all,” Leah answered. She put the basket down by the glasses and then stepped back to admire it. “Done correctly fruit baskets can be very romantic. This would actually make a lovely centerpiece.”
“A centerpiece?”
“Yes, for a wedding…of course not for your wedding. You are incorporating peach into the festivities by making your bridesmaids wear it. You wouldn’t want to overdo it by also having a centerpiece featuring peaches. It’s your day, not grandma’s.”
Mary Ann hesitated. “I would never have thought of this,” she said quietly. “Peaches in the middle of the table instead of flowers but…it works!”
“You could actually have both. We could interweave little flowers into the display. It would work. But what am I saying? There’s no we. It’s not like I have any part of the planning. Forget I said anything.”
“But…” Mary Ann looked to Leah and then to me but I wouldn’t meet her gaze. I was staring at my hands trying very hard not to burst out laughing. It wasn’t just Leah’s audacity that was cracking me up. Less than five minutes ago we were debating whether or not Rick-the-stalker was really Rick-the-wannabe-murderer. Now Mary Ann had seemingly forgotten all about that because of a display of fruit. She was like a toddler distracted from her skinned knee by a sparkling piece of tinfoil.
“The flowers would have to match the bouquets,” Mary Ann continued.
“Of course they would. We could… Oh, there I go again. Somebody stop me before I make a fool of myself.”
“Way too late,” I muttered under my breath.
Mary Ann kneeled down by the basket and fingered the ribbon. “It’s a brilliant idea,” she breathed. I pressed my lips together. Apparently Mary Ann was unclear on the meaning of brilliant. I heard a noise coming from behind the closed door of the guest room and then the unmistakable sound of Dena’s low laugh mingled with Jason’s. So she was home. And she was…entertaining.
Mary Ann glanced toward the room, blushed and quickly looked back up at my sister. “Leah, Monty and I really want to start our lives together at Disneyland.”
“How nice for you,” Leah said, not even bothering to feign joy this time.
“I’m sorry. If they didn’t already have wedding coordinators—”
“Hire me as a wedding consultant then.”
Mary Ann looked at her blankly and then back at the fruit. “Aren’t coordinators and consultants kind of the same thing?”
“Not at all. I’ll help you find a way to keep your fairy-tale theme without alienating the bulk of your San Franciscan friends or giving Dena a stroke.”
“But—”
“The Disney people don’t know your friends the way I do. They won’t know what compromises to strike,” Leah pressed on. “For instance, you could have rather elaborate bouquets of calla lilies and peach roses if you would just consider allowing the bridesmaids to wear black. And then everybody would be happy.”
“Black?” Mary Ann asked. “Is that really in the fairy-tale theme?”
Leah adjusted the shopping bag on her arm. “The flowers will be the fairy-tale part and we’ll put flowers in each woman’s hair, as well.”
“Oh, I like that!”
“And the bridesmaids could wear something like this.” Leah put the Barneys bag down on the couch and pulled out a dress.
Actually it wasn’t just a dress, it was a piece of art. A black, ruched, one-shoulder short dress with asymmetrically draped chiffon over charmeuse. “Oh, my God,” I said as I stepped closer to see the dress. “You are brilliant.”
“It’s so feminine!” Mary Ann squealed.
“It’s a Marc Bouwer Glamit!” Leah said reverently. “A little pricey, but I’m sure your bridesmaids will happily pay for it. They’ll wear it again, and it’s for a good cause.” She looked pointedly at me as she said that last part.
“I’ll pay,” I said emphatically. “Even if I didn’t have to wear it in a wedding I’d still buy it. Seriously, Leah, you did good.”
“It is beautiful, Leah.” Mary Ann fingered the fabric. “But I wouldn’t want to have the bridesmaids and the maid of honor wearing the same outfit so we’d have to find yet another black dress that would fit our theme. And Disney coordinators already do so much. I just don’t know if I need more people on the wedding team.”
The door to the guest room swung open and Jason rolled a completely dressed and only slightly mused Dena out into the living room. If she had actually had sex it had been a little while ago. Jason was also dressed in his T-shirt and jeans but his belt seemed to be missing and his feet were bare. He looked exuberant and Dena looked…I felt my heart swell as I took note of the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. For the first time since the shooting Dena looked happy. Leah turned to her still holding the dress up high.
“Hello again, Dena, you look wonderful.”
Dena flashed her a pleasant smile. “Thank you. I had an orgasm a little over a half hour ago and it was wonderfully refreshing.”
Jason looped his thumbs through his belt loops. “I helped,” he said proudly.
Leah rolled her eyes and Mary Ann quickly looked away but not before I caught a glimpse of her relieved smile.
I gave Dena a questioning look. Was everything really back to normal?
“It felt different,” Dena said, reading the question in my eyes. “But what I think I forgot for a while was that sex isn’t just a physical act.”
“No, I suppose it’s not,” I agreed, although I knew there were at least a couple of very good lovers from my past who I had little to no emotional attachment to…of course Dena had probably had about four hundred lovers like that.
“For me it’s always had a heavy psychological element. I can get aroused just by handcuffing a sexy, erect man to my bed. That’s psychological.”
“Dear God,” Leah mumbled and shook her head.
“It’s all a state of mind and today I proved it. I proved that when I’m in the right frame of mind I can have an orgasm no matter what my legs can or can’t do. You have to admit that’s pretty damn cool.”
“Cool? Dena,” I squealed bouncing up on my toes, “that’s awesome!”
“Yeah, I thought maybe I’d lost…lost everything.” She stared down at her legs again. “I haven’t… Things are different but I haven’t lost. I won’t let that happen. I’ll always be me, and I’ll always be orgasmic.”
“And she said there was no pain!” Jason said. He stood slightly pigeon-toed as he beamed down at Dena. “No pain at all…well, it hurt a little when she scratched her fingernails down my back but I like that. That kind of pain keeps it real. It’s part of the intensity of the human experience.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Leah pressed the base of her right palm against her forehead in a rather dramatic gesture of frustration. “Can we please talk about something less torrid? How was physical therapy this morning?”
“She took three fucking steps!” Jason boomed.
Now it was Leah’s turn to smile and look away. I was pretty sure I could hear her say “I knew it” under her breath.
“What’s up with the dress?” Dena asked.
Now Leah was really smiling. “I thought it might make a good bridesmaid dress.”
Dena’s eyebrows shot up and she immediately gave the dress her full attention. “All right! This is progress! Now that dress isn’t exactly my style but at least it’s black. So if we could find another black garment…it doesn’t need to be a dress, I’m cool with a classy pantsuit…although Theory has this fantastic knee-length leather dress—”
“This is impossible!” Mary Ann cried. Mr. Katz entered the room and pressed up against my legs and stared at Mary Ann’s reddening face. Apparently he found her sputtering to be a mild form of entertainment.
Mary Ann took a deep breath and continued. “I promised Monty that we’d have the wedding at Disneyland—”
“Aha!” Leah snapped her fingers in the air. “It was Monty’s idea to have the wedding at Disney! I knew it!”
“It doesn’t matter whose idea it was!” Mary Ann shot back. “I agreed! I want a fairy-tale wedding, and since Disney writes the fairy tales, it makes sense!”
“Actually,” I said as I bent down and pulled my kitty up into my arms, “Disney doesn’t really write fairy tales, they adapt them—”
“They don’t adapt them!” Jason protested. “They decimate them! They make them all fucking cheery and shit! Fairy tales are supposed to be brutal with people being dragged through the streets and wicked stepsisters cutting off their toes just to fit their foot into a shoe! And that’s the edited version! Did you know that in the original version of Rapunzel the prince knocks Rapunzel up during his little visits inside her tower? Rapunzel was a freak!”
“I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care!” Mary Ann was now literally jumping up and down. Mr. Katz squirmed in my grasp as he continued to watch Mary Ann with amused kitty eyes. “I don’t care who Disney has adopted and I don’t care about your nasty unedited Rapunzel story!” She took a long ragged breath and continued. “Monty wants a Disney wedding and I’m on board with that! And I want pretty, feminine dresses for my bridesmaids and for my maid of honor! It’s nice that you found one pretty and appropriate black bridesmaid dress, Leah, but there is simply no way you are going to find another black dress that is equally appropriate that both Dena and I can agree on! And since I know she’s never going to like anything I choose, I might as well just have her wear peach so we can honor Monty’s stupid grandma!” As soon as the last words escaped Mary Ann’s lips she gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.
We all stared at her in silence. Leah looked thoughtful, Jason perplexed and Dena seemed to be hovering between irritation and bemusement.
As for me…well, I don’t know what I was feeling. The world didn’t make sense. If I ever doubted that point I didn’t anymore. The topic of this conversation was all wrong. Dena wasn’t bemoaning her fate or celebrating her recent successes and Mary Ann wasn’t contemplating the possible murderous tendencies of the man who had been following her all day. Instead we were arguing about leather dresses by Theory and Disneyland weddings and Rapunzel’s secret wild side and…and peach! Our lives were in danger and we were arguing about the value and significance of the color peach!
I sat down heavily on the soft cushions of my armchair, ignoring the prick of my kitty’s claws. I was tired. Everything was upside down and I was getting dizzy.
Leah slowly lowered the dress over the back of the sofa. “I can make this work.”
“Oh, Leah,” Mary Ann began but something in Leah’s face stopped her.
“If I can find a dress that both you and Dena agree on by the end of tomorrow will you hire me as your wedding consultant?”
Mary Ann pulled anxiously at her curls that were now tumbling around her shoulders in an impossibly adorable way. “That’s impossible. You know it is.”
“Nothing’s impossible. Not for me.” Leah ran her hands over her highly disciplined hair. “Will you hire me if I find the dress?”
Mary Ann hesitated, her eyes darting uncertainly around the room.
“YES!” Dena yelled. “Say YES, Mary Ann.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll take you both shopping tomorrow afternoon. If I can’t find The Dress by the time the stores close, I will stop bothering you about your wedding. But if I do find the dress you have to hire me.”
“Dena and I both have to like the dress,” Mary Ann said carefully. “Otherwise no deal.”
Leah smiled. “Of course.”
“Okay then, we’ll go shopping…tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” Dena said, slapping her hand over her heart.
“Actually my name is Leah. But feel free to worship me anyway.”
“Leah,” Dena laughed, “I am so sorry for all those times I called you a Stepford wife.”
“And I’m sorry for all the times I called you a slut,” Leah said crisply. “I’m thinking something along the lines of a Robert Rodriguez. Sexy, flirty fun.”
Dena’s smile widened. “Leah, I swear to God, if you were a guy I’d do you right now on top of your Barneys bag.”
“Now that’s hot,” Jason breathed.
“Yes, well, that’s…” Leah shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Anyway, Mary Ann, I would like to have this agreement in writing. Do you mind if we draw something up?”
“But all this is on the condition of you finding the perfect dress, right?”
“Of course, we’ll include that as a clause.” Leah glanced in my direction. “We’ll be in the dining room,” she said as she grabbed Mary Ann’s hand and led her out of the living room.
Dena gestured for Jason to roll her closer to the dress on the couch. Jason did as asked and then leaned over her wheelchair so that his lips were only inches from her hair. “You’d look hot in a garbage bag,” he said.
“Yes, well, I’d rather wear a garbage bag than a shiny peach dress.” Dena sighed. She turned over the price tag dangling from the garment and winced.
“You know, Mary Ann isn’t going to agree to let you wear a leather dress to her Disneyland wedding,” I said as Mr. Katz finally broke free of me and found his own spot on the window seat.
“I know,” Dena said with a smile. “It’s called bargaining. I’ll ask for what I know I can’t have and then as a compromise she’ll give me the more reasonable dress that I actually want.”
“Ah.” I plucked a few cat hairs off my sweater. “What exactly does a woman of your temperament consider reasonable?”
She didn’t even have to take a second to consider the question. “Reasonable is getting exactly what I want.” She dropped the price tag and licked her painted lips. “Today I wanted to walk and I wanted an orgasm and that’s what I got. Tomorrow I want a little black dress. I think that’s very reasonable, don’t you?”
And the odd thing was that I did. At that moment in time it seemed like the most reasonable thing anyone had said all day.