A House in Disarray - Cover

A House in Disarray

Copyright© 2018 by Vincent Berg

3: Unanticipated Visitors

Givers need to set limits because takers rarely do.

Irma Kurtz

Em trudged up the stairs. The elevator was out again. It was an old building, but it was rent-controlled and all Em could afford in the neighborhood. She usually sprinted up the seven floors, but after the day she’d had, she was crawling.

Starting any new job is tough, bringing new people up to speed and reassigning all your open cases to other overworked detectives is exhausting. But when your boss and the entire department’s future rest on your initial decisions, you feel the weight bearing heavily on your shoulders. All she wanted was to get home, put her feet up and relax before preparing for her date.

Em was headed for her apartment on the seventh floor when she heard a door open behind her.

“Oh, good. I caught you.”

Em recognized the voice immediately.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I let someone into your place,” Amanda continued. She was a pretty young thing, struggling to get her music career started, but had the brightest smile and a pleasant, positive attitude. She was also Em’s ‘key pal’.

“Nah, that’s why I gave you my spare key,” Em said. “Who was it? A delivery guy? I wasn’t expecting anything.”

Amanda frowned. “Uhhh ... no. She said she was your sister, so I—”

Em slapped her forehead, knocking a few locks of hair loose. “Damn! Francine is here? They weren’t supposed to arrive for another couple days. I haven’t cleaned up, bought food or made plans.”

Amanda laughed, a perky sound which floated through the air like pixies spreading fairy dust, lifting everything in its path. “Don’t worry. She said this was unplanned. I let them in, but spent time with them—just to be sure. I helped get them settled. We created a makeshift bed for Becky on the living room floor. She seemed pleased as punch to be in Manhattan. She spent most of the afternoon leaning out the window, watching the activity on the street and in the windows across the way. I was getting some popcorn for Becky, but since you’re here...” She handed Em the package.

Em groaned, glancing at the cracked ceiling above her head. “Wonderful, a sixteen year old appreciating the men’s room in the next building. Just what I need. But all kidding aside, thanks. You’re a lifesaver. I was sure I had several days to prepare.”

“I didn’t have anything planned, so I spent the day with them. They were delightful. We had a terrific time together.” Amanda’s eyes sparkled. “They told me so many stories about you as a little girl. You’ve never revealed anything about your family, so it was wonderful getting the lowdown on you.” She winked at Em, smiling while glancing down the hall. “And it’s wonderful seeing some new faces in your life.”

Em rolled her eyes, imagining what Francine revealed but relieved at a potential crisis averted. She’d hoped to find someone to pawn them off on for a week—maybe more. Yet if they were OK where they were, she could take a few days to make arrangements.

“I hope you didn’t put yourself out. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

Amanda waved her concerns off. “Nah. Since I’m a singer, I make my own schedule.”

“Still, you’ve got to book your next performance, making arrangements, practice. It’s not fair expecting you to babysit my guests.”

“Nonsense. I have a flexible timetable and they were a delight. We had fun.”

“Still, I owe you something for all your trouble.” Em started rifling through her purse. Amanda put her hand on Em’s.

“Forget it. It’s not really a problem. I’m happy helping where I can.”

Em put her purse away. She knew how independent New Yorkers were. The biggest insult was to offer them assistance. “Well, if you ever need anything, let me know.”

Amanda smiled, turned and waved as she reentered her apartment. “Don’t worry. I will. I’ll mark it on my board as one favor owed.” Her laughter flew over her shoulders like a dozen butterflies set aflutter by a gentle breeze wafting down the corridor. Em had always been fascinated at her approach to life, seeing everything as positive, even when things were going south. She admired that perseverance. It frequently lifted her own spirits.

Em crossed to her door, rattling her keys. “I hope Francine is smart enough to lock up. New York is too dangerous to—” As she pressed her key to the lock, the door opened, revealing she’d not only left it unlocked, but unlatched.

As the door swung open, a brunette bundle of energy launched itself from the floor, targeting Em like a ravenous teenage wolverine. “Auntie Em!” Becky enveloped her in a huge hug. “Mom! Auntie Em is here.”

Becky was always a spitfire, though it was years since Em had seen her. Even as a toddler, the girl was energetic, unafraid of anything. Entering the apartment, Em spun her around in circles, her long brunette hair streaming everywhere and her bright irrepressible smile beaming amid her giggling.

“I’m glad you made it, but you could have given me a little warning.” Em hoped to express her disappointment, but Becky’s laughter and embrace overwhelmed Em’s disapproving tone. Besides, she couldn’t take her frustrations out on her niece. It was her sister-in-law she had the issue with.

“Em, it’s terrific seeing you!” Francine rushed forward like a Santa Ana wildfire overtaking the surrounding forest, setting everything ablaze. “Becky, make way and let your poor mother thank Em for all she’s doing for us.”

Becky backed up, smiling knowingly. She caught Em’s expression and giggled, knowing her mother’s traits.

“Thanks for everything. You have no idea what it was like getting out. We left almost everything behind. I grabbed Becky’s stuff, but little of mine.”

“Don’t worry,” Em assured her. “We’ll get you settled. I just wish there was time to find you somewhere to stay. You don’t want to crash in my tiny apartment, especially not while I’m away for most of the day.”

“Nonsense, we love it here! Becky can see the city, and we’re looking forward to getting to know you again.”

“No, seriously, I’m never here and—”

“I’m serious, too,” Francine warned, stepping back to confront Em. “We don’t want to burden your friends. We won’t expect much of your time, but you know your brother. We’ll both feel safer being as close to you as we can. As bad as Jeremy is, he’s terrified of you. As long as you’re around, he’d never try anything.”

Becky giggled. “He thinks you’re nuts.”

“Don’t worry about him. He doesn’t know you’re here. It’s not like he’d ever show up to shoot the breeze.”

“No, but you know what a psycho he is. He’s got a way of wheedling information out of people. If we stayed with anyone they might be in danger. If you’re nearby, we know we’re safe.”

Em sighed, realizing she was losing the argument before it had even begun. “Still...”

“Please, Auntie Em?” Becky asked, her voice taking on the familiar high-pitched whine of all young girls pleading for something. She wrapped her arms around her Aunt and squeezed tight. “We’ll be good. You won’t even know we’re here.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you,” Em lied, “but you’re not ready for how I—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Francine assured her. “After years of Jeremy bad mouthing you, I wanted to get everything out on the table before we showed up. Becky and I had a long talk about your ... lifestyle, and I decided we’d be completely honest about everything.”

Em backed up, glancing at Francine as she studied her niece. “Did you? Just how much does ... everything cover?”

As they entered the living room, Em’s eyes grew wide as she saw the disarray. Luggage was stacked on top of Em’s hand-carved wooden table. Francine’s wine glass was delicately balanced on her sofa and Amanda used her expensive red leather couch cushions as a bed for Becky. There were clothes scattered about as both bags were partially unpacked. Em clutched her head while taking everything in.

Francine smiled, pleased at her own progressiveness. “I told her that nothing is off the table. Anything she wants to ask, we’ll answer.”

Em groaned, shooting her niece a worried glance. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” Francine insisted. “Your brother said some terrible things about you over the years, and Becky heard the worst of it. But on the drive out, I explained how you’ve tried to help all along. I told how her father lied about you, just as he has about so much recently, but that certain details are true. So we agreed she could ask whatever she wanted so she could decide for herself.”

“I’m not convinced telling a sixteen-year-old girl—”

“It’s all right, Auntie,” Becky insisted. “I know more than you think. It’s not like when you were in school. Everyone is out now, and they talk about these things all the time. But still, I’ve got a ton of questions. It isn’t often you get to ask about specific details.”

Em groaned, walked over to her couch and put Francine’s glass on a coaster before collapsing and putting her chin in her hand. She shot Francine one last confirming glance before turning to Becky, who took a seat on the parquet floor before her. “I know I’m going to regret this, but go ahead.”

“What’s it like?”

Em cocked her head, regarding her. “What’s what like?”

“Kissing a girl,” she answered.

“You have kissed a guy before, haven’t you?” Francine asked.

Em grinned, relieved they were starting slow. She hoped the questions wouldn’t get too far afield. “Yes, despite knowing I was a lesbian since I was young, I’ve kissed guys.”

Francine leaned in. “Really? Who?”

“After I broke up with my first love, I tried to make her jealous by adopting a beard.”

“A what?” Francine asked.

“A beard, Mom. It’s when a gay guy has a straight girlfriend so no one suspects he’s gay.”

“Right.” Em settled back, getting comfortable while slipping her shoes off. “Except in my case, I met a young flamer who needed protection. Since I was popular and able to defend us both, I let it be known we were boyfriend and girlfriend. Essentially, we were each other’s beards.

“But, to answer your question, it’s quite a bit different. Guys are hard, with sharp edges and scratchy bits. Girls—women actually—are soft and cuddly, with smooth curves which are wonderful for—” Em’s hand froze midway through a mid-air caress. Catching herself, she blushed and slid her hand under her leg.

“Which do you like better?” Becky asked, leaning forward to hear the response microseconds sooner.

“Definitely girls. I’ve always preferred women. Guys were just a stopgap.”

“Have you ever done it with a guy?”

Em turned and checked with Becky’s mother before responding.

“Go ahead.” Francine waved her hand theatrically. “I’m dying to know this one myself.”

“Well, since I’d broken up with my girlfriend...”

“Broken up, or been got dumped?” Becky pressed.

Em bit her lip, lowering her head slightly, but barreled ahead. “I was dumped. Hard! That’s why I wanted her to see me with a man. That’s what she did. She discarded me for a football player.”

“Ouch!” Becky opined.

“Yeah, that was my response. But anyway, since I had no one else and he’d never fooled around before, we ... got a little ... curious.”

“You didn’t?” Francine demanded. “With a gay dude?”

Em laughed, pulling her feet up beside her. “It was a bit awkward, but it wasn’t so bad. While straight sex doesn’t get my motor purring, it still feels nice. But he had trouble maintaining...” She consulted Francine again. “Should I use the proper terms?”

“Please. It’s better she hears it from the horse’s mouth.”

“Thanks so much for that,” Em stressed, good-naturedly. “But continuing, he couldn’t maintain an erection.”

“What was his name?” Becky asked.

Em cocked her head, caught off-guard by the simple request. “Phillip. Phillip Schwartz.”

“He was gay and Jewish?” Francine asked.

“Yeah, as I said, he got picked on a lot. Though he got less flack for being Jewish than homosexual. This was western Pennsylvania, after all.”

“You know, now that you mention it, I remember him. Despite being so flamboyant, he was a cute kid.” Francine curled up on the couch beside Em, leaning an arm against the back and cradling her head as she listened. “But go on, I never heard any of these details.”

“Were you and Em in the same class in school?” Becky asked.

“Rutherford B. Hayes High,” Francine answered proudly, holding her wine up to honor its memory. “Same school, different classes. I was a year ahead of Em, and your father was another year beyond me.”

“Well, we—” Em’s recollection was cut short by a knock on the door. “Damn! I forgot Lucy.”

“Lucy?” Becky asked.

“My date.” Em glanced around, trying to guesstimate how soon she could put herself together before answering the door.

“You had a date and didn’t mention it?” Francine sat up, covering her mouth as if uttering an unspeakable word. “We could have made ourselves scarce if we’d known.”

Em was already on her feet, grabbing earrings off the counter in her bedroom. She straightened her blouse, dangling them against her ears. “How do I look?”

Her sister-in-law gave her an apprising look. “Like you crawled out of a sewer grate. Here, let me freshen you up.” She pulled a brush from her bulging purse.

“But...”

Becky leapt up with an enthusiasm only the young possess. “I’ll get it!”

As if coming out of a fog, Em leapt into action, still switching earrings. “No! She doesn’t know about you yet. Let me ... ease her into it.”

Becky spun around, torn between her Aunt’s imagined lesbian lover and meeting the real thing. “Ahh, she’ll like us once she meets us.”

Em swiveled around a pouting Becky. “I just want to ensure she doesn’t freak. Not everyone takes to strangers readily.” She tried to straighten her blouse once more before throwing her hands in the air and marching to the door.

As the door opened, Lucy prepared to enter but Em edged out the door and drew it shut. Lucy, feeling cornered, stepped back. She grinned at Em’s wrinkled outfit. “Forget our date?” She stepped around, evaluating her girlfriend’s attire from different angles. “I’m not surprised. Normally you dress to kill, but lately you’ve—”

A voice responded from down the hall. “You’ve got a date?” Turning, they noticed Amanda dumping the day’s garbage down the chute. “Why didn’t you say something, Em? Go change. I’ll introduce your girlfriend to your family and keep them entertained until you’re ready.”

“Family?” Lucy’s eyebrow arched as she glanced between the two women. “You’ve got relatives here?”

“Her sister-in-law and niece,” Amanda offered, wandering over. “They’re a blast. Becky’s full of questions and Francine has a ton of dirt on our girlfriend here.”

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up at the unexpected remark. “Girlfriend? Uh ... not that I’m prying, but just so I know how to react, is your neighbor an overly friendly stranger or competition?”

Em was about to respond when Amanda laughed, the sound wafting down the halls. The notes so pure and crystalline they both turned. She waved her hands, shaking her head. “No, it was just a turn of phrase. We’ve never dated. We ... help each other out.”

“We’re key pals,” Em explained. “In case we get locked out.”

“So you’re not dating ... at the moment,” Lucy clarified, arching her eyebrow. In Lucy’s defense, they were really expressive so she used them a lot for their dramatic effect. “You’re clearly not straight.”

Amanda giggled like a little school girl. “Shh! Don’t tell my daddy. He’ll be so disappointed. Not to mention my dozens of Facebook fans.”

“Excuse me. I don’t mind some healthy competition. I mean, Em dates plenty of women—some more casually than others—but I’m unsure how to catalogue you.”

Amanda flicked her wrist, shooing her concerns away. “We have no designs on each other, and I’m not scheming to steal your slot in the hierarchy, so you’re safe. I’m interested in a committed relationship. I couldn’t manage a ... situation like you’ve got.”

Lucy turned her brow on Em. “You know, now that we mention it, I wouldn’t necessarily object if you were. If the two of us joined forces in a mutual alliance, we could keep better track of our competition. You might be a handy resource in the girlfriend wars.”

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