Under the mistletoe with the new girl

There’s nothing like the holidays to stir up a little drama, and nothing quite like a holiday party to top it off.

Elizabeth and I were still seeing each other, but less and less.  Work had become overwhelming, frankly. My publication had laid off several employees and I was doing three times the work. Our company party had been down scaled to the office.  My boss had recruited me and a few other employees to move aside several desks and set up the the dance floor, food and beverage area with the promise that we would get an early start on the partying (aka wine).

I was moving aside a desk when my phone started to ring. It was the fifth call from Elizabeth that day. I hadn’t invited Elizabeth to our company party with me and similarly she hadn’t invited me to hers. We were still too new and neither one of us wanted to be “outed” in our place of work.

“Hey baby,” I answered.

“Hi. I missed you. I thought I would call to see how you were,” she said. For the past few weeks I kept reassuring Elizabeth that I was not dating anyone else, but all of her questions seemed suspicious. I was beginning to wonder if she wasn’t cheating on me with someone else and projecting it.

“I’m a bit busy. Can I call you back later?” I said as I shoved aside the desk.

“Why? Who is there with you? What are you doing?”

“Um. I’m at work. Moving desks for the company party. Do you want a play-by-play? Listen I got to go. I’ll call you later. Ok sweetie?”

“Oh, that’s right. OK. Later then. Whatever. ” she said. “Hot date?”

“God,” I sighed.”Listen, I’m not cheating on you. I’m at my company party. I will see you later.”

“Baby. I love you,” Elizabeth pleaded. “You’re mine. You know that right?”

“Yes. Bye baby.” I hung up and groaned softly.

“Here. This will cure your ails,” an unfamiliar voice from behind me said.

I turned around and came face to face with a beautiful woman holding garland and  a glass of wine. “Someone is not in the holiday spirit,” she said.

“Thanks,” I replied startled.

This beautiful woman was new on our sales team (even though our company had recently laid off employees, she was hired before our board had decided) and was a load of fun. I couldn’t believe that I had never met her before. We were just about the same age.

We had just finished doing the YMCA and had finished watching my manager embarrass himself when sales girl started pulling me toward an office. “Hey come in here with me,” she prodded.

“What’s up?” I laughed in my tipsiness.

She dangled a mistletoe above my head and giggled. Then kissed me. Really kissed me.

“What? Wait, wait. You have  a boyfriend!” I said. “And I….”

“Shhhhhhhhh.” She covered my lips with her finger and looked into my eyes. Those big blue eyes. Her one hand was sliding slowly back and fourth up my thigh and then higher up my skirt.  Her other hand had me pinned up against the office wall. She was breathing close up against my neck.

“Have you ever kissed a girl? This isn’t like me,” she whispered. “But I’m extremely into you. There’s just something…”

“I’m with someone,” I answered and smiled.”Besides what on earth would you want with me?”

She pushed me against the wall harder and her hands…. Well, you can guess where they were and what they were up to. “I’m not sure, but I do. I do,” she said.

“Ok there, Xena Warrior Princess, but I’m not that easy or that drunk, ” I laughed and pushed her back, even though more than a part of me just wanted her to keep on going. “Take it easy. We work together! Let’s go out and enjoy the rest of the party. I need a dance partner and they are playing our song.”

I grabbed my seductress sales girl’s hands and led her back to the dance floor. – Ruby

Dr. Feelgood

Mom and I are upstairs in Grandma’s room at St. Luke’s Roosevelt Hospital waiting while she is fitted for her radiation mask.  The doctors removed 90% of the mass which was restricting airflow to her lungs, inserted a stent and she will now undergo two weeks of radiation therapy on her lung to shrink the remaining portion of the mass.  I am absolutely relieved when they tell us that surgery went well and her chances of surviving at least one year are great.  We may continue to share adventures together and perhaps still take her away on the cruise that she always wished to plan!

I am on-line reading The Times, considering whether dating is truly dead and the hook up alive and well, when there is a knock at the door.  It is the handsome, young, resident who wakes me each day at 6:00 a.m. with a chipper, “Good morning, Sunshine!”, before performing the daily check-up on Grandma with the other young doctors.  He is now here alone; visiting to discuss Grandma’s pain management options, addiction, and various other issues which we may encounter during the course of her treatment.  He tells us to contact him if we need anything at all, even the seemingly most insignificant issue; he will be happy to listen.  Writing his contact details on a small piece of paper, I ask his name, as I can’t read the name listed on the identification badge.  Bashful, for the first time, he mumbles, “Romeo Jackson”.  Well, of course it is.  How else would he be named, if not Romeo?  Simply looking at him I thought how befitting a name for such a lovely, young man.  We all stand and there is an awkward moment between he and I for a moment before he leaves; there really was an awkward moment–oh no, it was not my imagination.

“Frankie, you should totally go for him”, insists my mother, breaking my reverie.

“Huh?  What?”, I reply,  “He is cute, though also a doctor who is working in the hospital where Grandma is receiving treatment.  Wouldn’t that qualify as some type of ethics violation?”

“You are crazy!  You would look great together”, she insists.  “Look at this sheet of paper!  Doctors don’t offer their personal cell phone numbers–that is why they have pagers; so they are not disturbed on their personal telephone line.  He wants you to call him!”

And so I asked myself, “Self, is that why doctors have pagers?”

“I saw how you looked at him…and…how he looked at you”, oh she knew what to say; damn selective maternal tendencies!!

At that moment, an orderly enters, pushing Grandma in a transport chair.  Her smile and bright energy are all I need to continue moving with her along the quest toward recovery.  “Oh Frankie!  I just saw that young doctor in the elevator!  What a hunk!  If I were a younger woman…“  –Frankie

Holidays with the Valentines

So Elizabeth and I were seeing less and less of each other since she was worried about getting laid off, but she still called all the time. I mean all of the time. I heard from her either by text, email or phone call every half an hour. One minute was “I love you and I miss you” the next was, “You are not thinking of cheating on me are you?” It was well overwhelming and annoying. I felt a bit strangled. I wasn’t cheating on her. I wasn’t do anything. It was Thanksgiving week!

Thank goodness for the holidays. I traveled home for Thanksgiving to my parents home with the big Valentines mailbox with the heart on it. My parents had known each other since junior high and married right after high school.  This was an expectation I had never dreamed of, but I think secretly my parents hoped I would have encountered so I could get married and procreate young.

Upon my arrival home I was grilled by grandma, my aunt, my cousins and my uncle about the “boy” I was seeing. Now, mind you, my parents don’t know I’m seeing anyone, and I’m content with that and, in fact content, at the moment, in them thinking I’m single. Now while everyone is trying to set me up with some nice boy they know, I’m thinking of my phone, which I know keeps ringing or beeping from text messages, and is purposely left in the front seat of my car.

By the end of the night I had stuffed the turkey, and I believe I had also been set up on five virtual dates. My mother had told me she handed out my phone number to at least two available guys at her own job because she thought they were so great. I’m not so sure they are though.

What I do know is my mother got tipsy and walked into me while I was taking a pee. “Oh my, Ruby!” she exclaimed. “What have you done to your boom-boom (she said exclaimed toward her own vaginal area, covered by jeans)?”

“Um, it’s shaved, ma. Please shut the door.”

“That’s not nice. Only Lesbians do that sort of thing. Men like hair,” she said as she shut herself in the bathroom with me.

“Well, I work out and its not healthy. I don’t prefer to have hair down there, ” I answered rolling my eyes and flushing the toilet. “Besides not all men like hair…”

“You’re not a lesbian. Are you? I think they are dirty. I mean who wants to lick a diseased pussy?” she asked.

“Well, certainly not me,” I answered as I pulled up my pants and decented out of the bathroom. “But I don’t want to suck on a diseased dick either. So I wouldn’t be too quick to judge.” I answered loud enough that other family members took a sideways glance at me in the hall as I shut the bathroom door.  And I was certainly thankful I wasn’t as judgemental as many people can be . - Ruby

Playing Doctor

It has been three weeks since I was traveling around Europe and there is no way this is happening. I left only for three weeks and so much has changed. Prior to seeing The Vegemite Tales, which was showing in Piccadilly Circus during my final night in London, I received a call from my mother telling me that Grandma’s upper respiratory infection was much more serious. The mass was malignant and acting as a valve, restricting airflow through her bronchial tube; I was told that we would explore our options upon my return, though my mother couldn’t bring herself to tell Grandma alone and only my presence would do.

It has been three weeks and we are now living in the private rental living quarters of Roosevelt Hospital, which is located in Hell’s Kitchen. Ruby is the most wonderful friend and roommate a girl could ever have. Recognizing the strain that a commute from Grandma’s home in Staten Island would take on us three, Ruby offered to stay with Elizabeth while we sought treatment. Elizabeth wouldn’t mind, as she is a warm, considerate woman and I could see the love in her eyes when she looked at Ruby. I declined the offer; Grandma always provided for her family well beyond her obligation. Truly the matriarch, she married a rotten, adulterous man, raised two ungrateful children and then accepted responsibility as my maternal figure following my parents’ divorce. She is my idol in every way, embodying the rare combination of strength, grace and diplomacy. The mold was definitely broken after she was made. I owed her at least the comfort of a $600/night hotel style hospital room.

It has been three weeks and following a two week holiday from work, I am forced to take family medical leave. My publisher has been nothing but understanding, and there is no way I could ever focus on my work and care for Grandma, though the layoffs within the publishing industry continue and I am frightened. Each day while watching the news and checking Gawker, I hear reports of publication upon publication folding or industry wide employee dismissals, and in this economy a manager’s understanding must have its limits. My life is spinning out of control and there is solace nowhere; perhaps I will read The Alchemist again, as there must be something helpful in there!

It has been three weeks and Grandma has not lost her sense of humor, as I discovered one day in the hospital, while flipping through photos from my European adventure. “Oh Frankie,” she said, “what hunks these doctors are.” her thick New York accent one of the few that I find endearing and melodious. “Yes, Frankie”, my mother chimes in, “You could probably find a wealthy, handsome young Dr. McDreamy to take care of you.” So she offends me by suggesting that I am not capable of caring for myself, treat that which I consider a sacred bond by pursuing a life with someone for anything other than mutual love, my education was a waste and finally referencing Grey’s Anatomy; she knows that I can’t stand today’s mundane television programming. Such a statement is typical of this woman who has served as a younger sister to me, while Grandma acted as mother. As if perfectly scripted ABC programming, a young resident enters the room. I can’t use the adjective handsome, as this would not suffice to describe how attractive I find him. Mom compares him to J.F.K. Jr, though J.F.K Jr. never made the three of us gasp and hold our breath in unison. Brief introduction and he begins taking Grandma’s blood, making jokes and conversation. He asks about the photos and quips, “It must be nice to travel through Europe”, to which I reply in the affirmative. He adds quickly, “Yes, especially if someone else pays for the journey.” Was he listening at the door?! With a smirk, I reply “I pay my own way and need not rely on others to attain my heart’s desire.” He smiles and tells us that he will return in a bit. Once he leaves Grandma exclaims, “They just keep getting’ bettah and bettah”! “Yes, Grandma”, I agree and giggle. She is always a woman after my own heart. –Frankie