Everyone Falls In Love

I’ve never been a crier. In these past few months, I’ve made up for a lifetime of tears. It’s not stopping now. My review is in two days. Neither Jeffery nor Weirdo Steeve has called me. To cheer me up, Sophia has invited me out to Jester’s Court, a karaoke bar about a half hour from home. I’ve rounded up Leah and Elena, and I left a message for the missing Jessica. The goal of the evening: to not cry.

After boogie-ing to Aretha Franklin’s “Respect” for the third time, Elena and Sophia jump off the tiny stage. Leah and I cheer for them as does the rest of the crowd, quite relieved that they won’t hear the song for at least another ten minutes.

Elena bows graciously. “Now that’s what I call a good time!” She hugs Sophia and then squeals, “Oh, he made it!” She points at the door. A smiling Jack heads straight for us. “Hi, honey. Did you see us?”

“Couldn’t miss you guys.” He picks her up in a twirling bear hug. “I have to say, I now have even more respect than I did before hearing you sing.”

Sophia pokes him. “You’ll have even more than that by the end of the night. They’re planning on singing it again.”

Sophia bumps Elena’s hip with her own and says, “Just until we get kicked off stage. That’s the plan.”

Copa Cabana suddenly blasts out of my purse. Sophia laughs and dances around. “Thanks for changing my ring,” I say as I get my phone out. The number is blocked. I don’t answer blocked calls. I put the phone down. No message comes up as we all make a toast to each other.

Copa Cabana plays again. Sophia laughs again. Blocked number again. I don’t answer. Jack and Elena go sign up to sing and Sophia chugs a rum and coke. No message.

Copa Cabana a third time. Sophia gives me an exasperated look. “You’re the one who changed the ring tone so deal with it.”

“I will,” she says as she grabs my phone and answers it. “Who’s this?” she asks. After a few seconds, she continues, “You called this number. I’m not telling you who I am until you tell me who you are.”

Fair enough. I raise my eyebrows and make hand motions to try to get her to give me some clue as to who it might be, who it sounds like, or if it’s a male or female. She puts up her hand and turns away.

She continues, “No, this isn’t my phone. It’s my friend’s phone and she doesn’t answer blocked calls so if you want to be secretive, stop calling. I’ve had enough Manilow.”

I laugh, guessing that whoever is on the other end has no clue what she’s talking about. Sophia nods into the phone and then says, “Okay hang on,” and swings the phone over towards me.

“Who is it?”

“Karen Orcherd.”

“Who’s Karen Orcherd?”

Her eyebrows go way up and she shrugs. “I got you a name. You do the rest.”

I take the phone and say, “Hello, hang on,” and head outside. Jack and Elena are at full volume with some serious ACDC.

Outside, I ask again, “So who is this?”

“It’s Karen Orcherd. I believe you know my husband Trent. Who are you?”

Trent? Who the heck is Trent? “How do you know that I know your husband if you don’t know who I am?”

“Your number is in his cell. Who are you?”

“I don’t think it matters who I am. I don’t know anyone named Trent.” I peek inside and see Jack and Elena bowing, Sophia clapping wilding over her head.

“Then Burke. You know Burke.”

No. “Exactly how many husbands do you have?”

An exaggerated sigh comes through, followed by, “I have one very unfaithful husband who gives fake names to many women. I have no idea how many. I’m finding all this out now from one of his past wives who hunted me down to warn me that he was trying to get back together with her, so can you please tell me who you are and if you know him.”

Why do all the looneys find me? “I don’t know anyone named Trent or Burke.”

“How about Steeve?”

Heart in throat. Knot in stomach. Can’t speak.

Karen continues, “He spells it wrong, but he thinks it’s soap-opera-ish. Another of his exes told me so. Oh, yes, there are more. About eight.”

Can’t breathe really. I grab onto the brick wall outside of Jester’s.

“Are you there? Hello?”

I catch a breath and say, “Yes, I’m here. Yes, I know that name, but I haven’t seen him in quite some time.” All I can think is that I slept with him in this woman’s bed. Eww.

Elena and Sophia appear, searching for me. The look on my face drives them into panic mode. “What’s going on?” they hiss at me.

I cover my phone and quickly say, “Steeve is married and I had sex with him in his wife’s bed.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, that would be my reaction.”

Karen says, “Would you happen to know where the bastard is right now? I know you said you haven’t seen him but I can’t track him down. I even checked his rental house.”

“Rental house?”

“Yes, rental house. He has a house that I thought he rented out. Apparently, that’s his whorehouse.” She stops for a second and then adds, “No offense.”

“None taken. I didn’t know he was married.” I’m slightly relieved. I had sex with him not in her bed. Then I blurt out, “You’re really married to him? Isn’t he a little off?”

She snorts into the phone, “Honey, you have no idea. Big mistake. I plan to take him for all he’s worth, which isn’t much.”

“I wish I could help. I’m so sorry.” I am for her situation. For my situation. For this whole deal.

Elena and Sophia now make odd hand movements, trying to get me to fill them in as I talk to the poor woman. I wave them away.

Karen says, “If you hear from him, will you let me know? I’ll give you my number.”

I put the number into my phone as she says it and then say, “You’re surprisingly calm through all this.”

She replies, “You’re not the first woman I’ve called. The previous ones probably would not agree with you.” So she’s exhausted from yelling and tracking Steeve/Burke/Trent.

I say, “I don’t think he’ll be calling. The last I saw of him was at Thanksgiving. He showed up at my parents’ house and told me that we had to run like the wind.”

She gives a bitter laugh. “Sounds like he’s finally cracking up.”

“Yeah, I think he’s lost it.”

“Thanks, hon. Sorry to catch you off guard like this.”

“It’s not a problem. I should thank you. You’ve filled in some blanks for me. I only wish I could help you more.”

We say our goodbyes and then I say to Elena and Sophia, “Steeve’s married.”

Elena asks the same thing I did: “How the heck did he get someone to marry him?”

I remind them of the pictures I found without the heads. “He’s done it plenty of times. Maybe he has multiple personalities.”

Sophia suggests that he has borderline personality disorder. I suggest that he’s plain nuts. The sounds of a bunch of women in their fifties singing “It’s Raining Men,” makes its way out of the doors. Some smokers stand around, sucking on their cigarettes. I’m still trying to figure out how this is real. Sophia asks, “Are you okay?”

Am I okay? I don’t feel like bursting out in tears because I can never have Steeve again. It was already over. Good thing, too. “I told you guys he was weird!” Then, I laugh. What the hell else can I do?

I look at Sophia, remembering our first chat about my new man that was Steeve, after my first date with him. “I’ll have you know that his real name is Trent. He uses different names to try to get different women. He friggin’ chose the name Steeve. I could have had Burke. I could have had Trenton. But noooo, I get him when he’s Steeve with the three e’s. I told you guys I wasn’t being shallow! Anyone who spells his own name wrong . . .”

Sophia grabs me in a hug. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. 20/20 hindsight.”

I hug back. “You just want me to forget you’re the one who told me to ignore the whole name thing.”

She hugs me harder. I hug her back. Elena hugs the both of us. I throw the paper back into the car and we head back inside. It’s a good thing to not be dating someone who’s married to someone else, I decide. A very good thing.

On the way back in, Sophia’s hand brushes mine and I feel something that I’ve never felt before. I grab her hand. “What’s going on here?”

I latch onto her wrist. I hold up her hand to Elena. “Hello, what’s this?”

She yanks her hand back into her jeans pocket. “My hand.”

“Yes, and what’s on your hand?” I follow her back to our table.

“I can’t tell you yet. Not until David gets here.”

Jack stands to greet us and asks me, “Are you okay?” Without allowing any time to answer he asks Elena, “She okay?” Elena says, “She’s fine, Jack.”

I echo, “I’m fine, Jack. Thanks for breaking the news. More importantly, can you find out what Sophia’s ring is all about?”

He glances at Sophia’s hand, now shoved way down in her pocket and asks, “What gives?”

Instead of giving us an answer, she gives us a round of Kamikazi shots, which is just as satisfying for the meantime. Five minutes later after much “what’s your secret”/”I’m not telling”, in walks David, out comes Sophia’s hand, and she jumps around us in a spiral.

“Can we tell them?” She’s giddy.

David jumps too, mocking her giddiness. “Tell them. Tell them.”

“We’re engaged!!” she shouts as if we really hadn’t figured that out yet.

David sweeps her up into a big hug, they make out for about thirty seconds, and then he puts her down. “Now can I say hi to everyone?”

She nods and slaps his ass. He gives cheek kisses all around and then orders a round of Soco Amaretto shots. We toast to engagement and then hear a familiar female voice.

“What’s the celebration about and where’s my shot?”

Leah’s glowing with none other than Bobby by her side. “You call yourself a non-drinker.” I shake my head at her mockingly and then to Bobby, “So should I congratulate you for finding such a good catch or should I verbally berate you for not telling me?”

He cracks a sheepish grin. “Aw, Professor Roma, you forgive me.”

I try to hate the All-American boy but say instead, “Yes, I forgive you.”

He holds his arms out. “Come on. Give me a hug. Come on.” He opens and closes his fingers, beckoning me over. I hug him and then punch his chest. When he releases me, I punch Leah’s arm, too.

I scold them, “No more secrets, dammit.”

They promise, we do introductions, and then, as we do whenever we karaoke, we drink.

After ordering two rounds of thick lager, Jack and David become best friends and decide to sing, what else, Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” Me, the gals, and Bobby all cheer and clap and sing along with the chorus as the two alpha-males become divas of soul. When they come back to the table, Leah lets out a scream.

“Jessica!!”

I had left her the invite, never expecting her to come. She had been MIA for so long. Now, I see why. On her arm is a gorgeous, albeit somewhat older, man. On her left ring finger is a gorgeous ruby and sapphire ring.

She waves like a queen. “Hello there!”

I grab her. “Where the hell have you been?” I let her go and hug the man next to her. “Who are you?”

He hugs me back. “I’m John Baker. Jessica’s husband.”

Leah and I scream in unison. “You got married?”

Jessica yawns, as if this were a boring, ordinary happening. “Yeah. Long story short. I bumped into John one night at a lecture on dream interpretation. We got to talking about old times. We flew to Vegas. We got married.”

I ask, “What about the non-Frenchman?”

Leah nods. “Yeah, he’s been trying to find you for days.”

Jessica waves away the notion. “Ugh. He was dating three other women. He’ll get over it.”

I hug her and hang on her arm. “So you really can find a husband in your dreams?” I ask.

John Baker adjusts his tie and shakes his head. “Not really. More likely to find one at college.”

Then it clicks. “Jessica Blessing! This is the guy you told me about? Your sculpting teacher?” My voice is at such a high pitch, I’m amazed humans can still hear me and dogs aren’t howling.

She falls into a huge laugh. “Yup. Those big penis and breast statues paid off.”

Bobby squirms his way into our little circle. “Congratulations, Professor Blessing.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek and shakes John Baker’s hand. Then he leans in to Leah’s ear. “There’s hope for us, now isn’t there?”

Jessica raises her eyebrows. “You mean you two?”

They nod. She claps. Then she looks at me. “And where’s your man?”

I count off on my fingers, “You mean the one whose wife just called me and told me that he was married or the one who isn’t my man because I never admitted to him being my man in the first place?” I take a breath and then sing out, “But I’m not bitter!” She snarks a laugh at me. Then she and her new guy join in the drinking.

We stay until the wee hours. I do more shots, forgetting my men, my job, and myself.