Mickie and Dwayne arrived with the girls just after four this afternoon. Tish looked more rested than usual after a sleepover, but I get the impression that Mickie is a casual person who subscribes to the thought that late nights mean late mornings. Kim and Tish look as if they’ve slept in, which is fine with me; now I don’t have to deal with a cranky child. My only stress is in meeting these new people. Tish and Kim are both on their best behavior, joining in the conversations with their own brands of wit, yet keeping to themselves as well, leaving the adults with plenty of adult time.
Mindi and Stan showed up not long after Mickie, Dwayne and the girls. I wasn’t surprised to find out that Mindi knew Mickie well. I’m beginning to think that Mickie knows everybody well, not just in Malibu, but perhaps in the greater Los Angeles area. The only ice to break, then, was mine. I quickly found out, though, that the ice was very thin. There were the usual questions about my move to Los Angeles, and I gave my usual answers. I was teased about working for ‘A.J.’, and he was teased about what a ‘pain in the ass’ he is. After that, it was all about eating and having a good time.
This is the first time I’ve seen Alex relax around people. Not that he’s not relaxed around Juliette, or that he’s in some constant state of nervousness, but he seems to be in his element with Mickie and Mindi. It makes a difference. There’s calmness about him that I haven’t seen before. Part of me wonders if he simply likes playing host, because he’s taken the party over as his own. He’s being charming and talkative. He’s working the room. And it helps me, because I can concentrate on cooking and serving everything I’ve made. Another part of me wonders if he’s just happy to be with people, period.
The shish kebabs turned out well. Stan and Dwayne helped me with barbecuing skills, and I’ve learned a few tricks about grilling today. Even Tish and Kim ate their fair share of the well cooked meat, and Alex ate vegetables, because I think he was talking so much he didn’t realize what was happening.
And I’m having a good time. I’m feeling relaxed tonight, too. A far cry from several nights ago when all I wanted was to be alone and cry. I don’t feel like the housekeeper tonight, even with Alex emceeing the evening. I feel as much a part of the festivities as anyone else. Maybe it’s because I already know Mick and Dwayne, or that Mindi and Stan don’t expect to be waited on, they pitch in with setting the table and watching the grill. I don’t know, but I like the way I feel tonight. Hopeful. As if this move here was not only a good decision, it was the BEST decision. As if being ‘only a housekeeper’ isn’t such a bad thing to be. As if I belong here.
“This was superb,” Mindi says, eating yet another forkful of a couscous salad I made this morning in a burst of energy. “I’m so full I’m going to pop.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” I say.
“You’re going to have to share some of these trade secrets of yours. I’ve never gotten Kim to eat roasted vegetables,” Mickie tells me.
“No big secrets. I think it’s the quality of the food,” I say, because I do. The food is all prepared very simply, with minimal seasoning. It’s the freshness that they taste, not any culinary magic.
“You could cater,” Stan tells me. “Ever think about it?”
“Not really,” I say, although that’s not quite the truth, I thought about it after Errol and I split in the beginning, but there was no market for it where I lived. Now I have no desire to cook on any grander scale then I’m doing now. Cooking for Alex isn’t a chore, but there’s a certain demand in making meals for someone who I consider has a picky appetite. At the moment, that’s demanding enough. Besides, instinct tells me that the local population of stars and celebrities might not be as appreciative and accommodating as these people gathered around the table, and the last thing I need or want is some spoiled rich person complaining to me that the fish is too salty, or that some thing or other is below their standards.
One thing about Alex, he doesn’t complain about much. At least not to me. He might not say anything, he might not even talk to me, but there’s been no complaining.
I can’t get over how personable he’s being. He’s been talking non-stop, particularly to Mindi. He’s been something bordering on bubbly. I’m finding it very amusing.
“You SHOULD think about catering,” Stan says, breaking into my thoughts.
“I think I’d have some pretty stiff competition in town,” I say. I like compliments, but not too many. They make me feel self-conscious. I’d rather listen to Mindi and Mick and Alex talk shop, anyway. Every anecdote sheds a little more light on Alex’s personality, and I’m beginning to see that there’s more than meets the eye.
“Nah, the caterers around here have been used and used,” Mickie says. “Everyone’s used everybody. There’s always room for more, especially when it’s this good.”
“Oh, I think I have my hands full enough right now,” I say.
“With HIM?” Mindi says, pointing across the table at Alex and laughing. “Hell, you can just throw him a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and he’d be happy.”
“Fuck you,” Alex tells her, but the way he says it you’d think he was giving a compliment.
“You wish,” Mindi replies.
And Alex just laughs, but there’s something different about his laugh, and I’m thinking, yes, he probably does have a soft spot for Mindi. Something in the way his eyes move when he laughs at her remark just screams it to me. But then there’s Stan, sitting beside her, his arm touching hers, and that says something, too. Too bad. Alex seems to have a rapport with Mindi. From a lot of their conversation I take it that they spent a considerable amount of time together during some tour or another, I’m not exactly sure. They drift in and out of reminiscing about this event and that person, names and places that are unfamiliar to me, although as the evening is wearing on I begin to understand that there was more than one tour, and that Alex had, at some time or other, toured on his own.
He makes no sense to me right now. The videos, the stories Mindi is telling about raucous times they shared, the stories about endless hours of traveling, of myriad discomforts, all put up with gladly for the brief hours spent performing; it doesn’t add up for me. The picture I have in my mind of Alex, of the person I see every day, is not the picture of the person that Mindi is talking about, or the one that Mickie talks of, either. And I keep wondering, where did that person go. I’m so deep into wondering that I lose track of the conversation and find myself staring at my plate.
“Did we lose you?” someone asks me. I look up and Alex is laughing at me. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” he asks.
I just smile at him.
“Dessert,” I say.
~~**~~**~~***~~**~~**~~
~~**~~**~~***~~**~~**~~
Shi is sort of living up to her name. She’s much quieter tonight, even more quiet than usual. I dunno, maybe there’re too many people here. I’ve never seen her in a crowd. Not that this is a crowd, far from it, but she keeps going all quiet and, and inside herself. Maybe she’s got some shit on her mind, though. I mean, she was havin’ a pretty bad night the other night. I know that sometimes those sorta feelings can hang around for a long time. Or maybe she’s even tired. Sounds like she wasted a lot of time last night lookin’ at those stupid videos. Fuck. When she looks at somethin’, she really looks at it. Like that video with us all wet in it, how that bothered her. She must have mentioned that a hundred times today. But after a while, I kinda got what she was sayin’.
She’s just bein’ so silent. Enough that I notice it. But she also seems to be enjoyin’ herself. Me, too. I’m enjoyin’ tonight. It’s been a while since there was any real company around here, and damn, it’s been forever since I’ve seen Mindi. God, she looks fantastic. I can’t believe how thing’s are goin’ for her.
Mindi toured with us, like, three, four years ago. Our regular horn player and percussionist quit. Not in a bad way, he just wanted to go do different stuff, so we found Mindi. She fit in. She’s probably about the best musician we ever played with. And it was cool to have a lady in the band. There are always ladies in the dance corps, but we never had one in the band. I dug Mindi right away. She’s cool. For real. The other guys in the band dug her, too, like you dig a guy, like you relate to someone who knows their shit COMPLETELY.
She fit right in, and I wanted her so bad. Even though I was with Amanda at the time. Amanda and me, we were on again, off again then. I hooked up with a dancer, I hooked up with a couple of ‘em on that tour, but I really wanted to hook up with Mindi and it just never happened. I think she thought I was an asshole. Probably was. I can get like that around women. A lot. But she was okay about it, and she hung out with me a lot, so when I toured on my own, for The Save the Music Foundation, she signed on as part of my band. I even had her doin’ some of her own stuff as an opening act. I dunno, I guess I thought if we could be on stage together, if she saw me in another way, she’d like me more.
She likes me fine. She just didn’t like me enough. I got a little pissed off about that, and when I moved out here I really shoulda, you know, called her, stayed in touch, but I didn’t. Pride. Stupidity. Both. Now, seein’ her here, it’s a thrill. I still get a pang. But she’s with this other guy and I like him, and I can’t hate her for not likin’ me the way I wanted to be liked. It’s not her fault. It’s not even my fault.
I look at Shi again. She’s been sittin’ next to me for most of the day, here, at the table. She’s gone quiet again, and now I get it. She’s listening. She’s listening hard, to everybody. Even me. She’s listening the same way I think she looks at things, real, real deeply. She must feel me lookin’ at her, ‘cause she turns her head and smiles at me, looks into my eyes. Even in the weird light from the sunset I can see the greenish-blue color of them. And I can see how fucking intense her stare can be.
It’s like I’m lookin’ at her for the first time. She’s pretty. Her hair, it’s this brick-y red and it’s curly and she has it all slung back and tied with some kinda rope, or thong, some string thing. But a few bits and pieces are brushin’ up on her cheek. I wanna take those hairs and tuck ‘em behind her ear. And I know if I did something like that she’d probably smack my hand away. Don’t know why I know that, I just do. She, she likes to keep to herself.
Maybe THAT’S why she’s so quiet tonight. A lot of people asking her a lot of questions. I don’t ask her too many questions. She never seems to want to talk about herself too much. And she really doesn’t ask ME a lot, either. But if she did, I’d tell her anything she wanted to know. Shit, half the world knows things about me that I really don’t want them to know so tellin’ Shi this or that, hell, it’s no big deal.
The whole time I’m thinkin’ this, Shi has been lookin’ at me, and now she leans over close. Close enough for me to smell her, smell the scent of her shampoo. Close enough that one of those loose strands of hair brushes my face.
“I think I’d better clear,” Shi whispers to me.
From the way she was leanin’ over to me, from the sound of her voice, I thought she was about to tell me a secret, so when I understand what she’s said, when she gets up with her hands full of plates, it confuses me. There was a moment there, a strange moment, where I was sure that she was gonna tell me somethin’ and that it was somethin’ I know I should listen to. Instead I’m sittin’ here, still waitin’ for her to say what she was gonna say, while she and Mickie have left the patio with most of the dishes.
And I remember. Shi’s the housekeeper.
~~**~~**~~***~~**~~**~~
~~**~~**~~***~~**~~**~~
© 2003 Chandrah, Inc.
© 2003 (*> Baby Bird Productions, Inc.
