Thursday, August 26, 2004

Jenny and Louise (and Lila and Marie)

It's Friday. I have been thinking about Jenny a lot lately. I should call....

My phone rings. Watch this be Jenny, I think.


"Hi, hon, it's Jenn!" Sure enough. I do that all the time. Sometimes I think I am psychic.


"Steve, I really need to talk to you."

Let me guess. You are horny as hell for me, and you want to ride me like the dirty little cowgirl that you are?

"Sure. What's up?"

"I'm beginning to think your mother is REALLY ill."

Of course. Mom is ALWAYS really ill. Mom is always suffering from some exotic ailment which previously only afflicted the Aboriginees of New Zealand. She's always on her death bed, parting her lips and feebly drawing her final breath before her head plops lifelessly on the pillow and her soul departs for that neverending open bar in the sky. And she usually makes a miraculous, Ripley's-Believe-It-Or-Not recovery around 9:30 each night, at which time she walks a mile down the road to the local watering hole and slurps bourbon until closing time.

"Yeah, well, don't worry. I'm sure she'll be feeling better around happy hour."

"This is serious, Steve. She's very jaundiced. And the itching...."

"So give her some Oil of Olay. Hopefully, she won't drink it."


"Ok. So what are you looking to do?"

"I spoke to Dr. Patel at the hospital. He's agreed to see her. Does your mom have health insurance?"

"Yeah. It's through my dad."

"If you get me the name of your mother's primary care doctor, I'll call and get a referral."

"I'll do it."

"And could you help me take your mom to Dr. Patel next week? When I suggested it, she got really angry, so I think I'm gonna need some help."

"Yes, I'll help you."

"Thank you, Steve."

"I haven't seen you in a while," I say.

"I know. So busy," she says.

"What are you doing later?"

"My girlfriends and I are going to Friday's," she says. "How about you?"

"Crashing. Tough week."

"Sorry. Well, if you're awake, stop in and say hi."


Oh yeah, I'll be awake, honey.

1:15. I come back from lunch and walk past Lila's desk. "I need to see you in my office," I say.

I haven't had a conversation with Lila in quite some time. I actually miss talking to her.

She breezes through my door. She's wearing a tight pink skirt and a white blouse. It's one of the outfits she bought with her advance at the beginning of the summer.

"How's it going on the file room project?"

"Six boxes left."

"Why don't you get Judy and Thea started moving into the file room."

"Steve, there's six boxes left."

"Move them into the regular file room. There's room there for six boxes. Just don't forget to finish the project."

"I won't."



"I just want you to know I'm proud of you. You're way under budget for the project!"

"Thank you!" she says, smiling. She is staring at me.


"Is it true?"

"Is WHAT true?"

"That Ross is getting fired and you're getting his job?"

"Is THAT the rumor?"

She nods. "mm-hmm."

Some of the people in this office are truly retarded.

"This is just between you and me, ok?" I say.

She leans in closer. Her hair spills down, hanging six inches from my nose. The green apple smell caresses me.

"Ross is getting promoted to corporate for that new M & A position," I whisper.

"But that was YOUR position," she says quietly.


"So are you getting Ross's job?"


She stands up, her mouth slightly open, her eyes widening. "Steve, this is incredible! This is huge!!"

"It's not 100% official, but it looks pretty good."

"No matter what, I am proud of you," she says.


"I wanna buy you dinner. I wanna MAKE you dinner," she says.

"You don't have to."

"I WANT to. I am SO proud of you, baby."

"Even if I don't get it?" I ask.

"You will. You'll find a way. You always do."

"Close my door," I say.

She closes the door, then walks over and sits in my lap.

"I really missed you this week," I say.

"Me too," she says. "Can I make you dinner tomorrow night?"


She reaches back and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers.

Suddenly I can't think of any place I'd rather be than roaming the aisles of the supermarket with Lila, watching her Daisy Duke-clad ass swing rhythmically from side to side, knocking cans off the shelves. It might be nice not to shop alone...


I slip my hand under her blouse and run my hand along her bra. It's soft and satiny.

I feel her tongue, hot on my ear, then my cheek. I turn to face her. She kisses me. I close my eyes and focus on the wetness of her luscious lips.

"Can I stay over tomorrow night," she says.

"I might have to be bribed," I say.

"You will be," she says.

The door is unlocked, I think. Lila forgot to set the deadbolt.

"Go lock the door," I say. I am gonna fuck her brains out. And that's just a warmup for tomorrow.

She gets up and reaches for the door. Someone knocks.

"Come in," I say.

The door opens. It's Marie from accounting. "Steve, we've got a huuuuge problem," she says. I'm pretty sure I can smell the nicotine on her breath from across the room.

In thirty seconds, I went from "about to get laid" to "smelling ass breath."

Lila and I exchange a smile. I silently mouth the words RAIN CHECK as I walk by.