Installation 17: Welcome to My Parlor previous
Phoebe stood in front of James’ desk, waiting for him to ask his question. Instead, he smiled without showing any teeth.
"Maybe I should back up a bit,” he finally said. “First, I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m a graduate of Skootill College."
Skootill was a prestigious liberal arts school Phoebe had heard of, though she couldn't point to it on a map.
"No, I don't think I’d heard that," she said.
"Huh. That's funny. Around here I find that someone usually mentions it on my behalf because it's something of a rarity to have a Skootiller on staff. Anyway, a very dear friend of mine from Skoot is having a housewarming party the Saturday after next and I wonder if you'd like to come along."
"Come along?" Phoebe asked.
"With me."
"Oh." Phoebe dropped her eyes down to her hands because looking into James’ unblinking blue eyes was becoming uncomfortable. Combined with his sharp nose and pale face, he reminded her of a very watchful and disapproving hawk.
"You could meet me at my place and we'd go from there," James said.
“You wouldn't be picking me up?"
"I assumed you'd like to see my home."
"Your home?"
"Yes, I live with an acquaintance,” James said. “And we've built our own workshop in the garage for fixing cross country skis and a sauna in the backyard. It's really something to see."
James pronounced "sauna" as "sow-oo-na."
"So would I need to bring a change of clothes? A towel?" Phoebe blurted out, baffled by the entire exchange.
James looked at her and for just a moment something, some small amount of emotion, flickered over his face.
"And the reason for that would be...?"
"For the sauna?"
"Oh, no. No, I simply intend to show you the sauna. I don't think we'd have time to use it before the party."
"There's always afterwards," Phoebe said.
"Well…” James said and touched his silk tie. “It’s obvious you don't know any Skootillers, do you? We like to party until the sun comes up."
"I see," Phoebe said.
"Forgive me for having to ask, but are you agreeing to attend the party with me or..."
“Let me get back to you,” Phoebe said. “After I check my calendar.”
She turned to go. Back at her desk, it took quite some time for her pulse to return to normal. She replayed all recent events in her head. Everything James said. Everything she said. The little flicker across James’ face that, upon reflection, she identified as terror.
Carlotta came out, eating pistachios and dropping the shells on the floor.
“What happened?” Carlotta asked with her mouth full.
“Oh,” Phoebe said. “Nothing much. The Director wanted to thank me for my birthday greeting and James wanted to ask me out.”
“Are you kidding me?” Carlotta said. Under the florescent lights her blush looked especially garish. “He asked you?”
“He wants me to go to a Skootill party.”
“I have to go tell Mary Ellen down at The Store,” Carlotta said, already moving towards the door.
“No!” Phoebe yelled. “Don’t tell anyone. It’s not for sure.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not comfortable rushing into things,” Phoebe said.
“Oh,” Carlotta said, easing back into the room. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“So you won’t tell anyone?”
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Carlotta said. “I didn’t want to walk all the way downstairs anyway.”
“It sure looked like you did,” Phoebe said.
“No, I don’t,” Carlotta said. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office enjoying some delicious nuts. I have to catch up on my e-mail anyway.”
At the end of the day, Phoebe went down to the front entrance to turn in her ID badge. Henry Rickenbottom, one of the nicer guards, took the badge and held up his hand as if to give her a high-five.
“Heard you’re going out with Jimmy Trehorn,” he said. “Good luck with that.”
“How did you…?”
“Uh… There was this e-mail that went out to, like, a lot of people,” Henry said. “I mean, I got it, like, as a forward.”
“Well,” Phoebe said. “Its not a for sure thing.”
She turned and left, going out into the windy street to wait for the bus. When it came, she was surprised to see Older Woman and Younger Woman sitting together and chatting just as they did every morning because usually Younger Woman was absent on the way home. Phoebe sat down behind them.
Older Woman: I can’t believe its been twelve years since I’ve had sex.
Younger Woman: You’re not missing that much.
Older Woman: Easy for you to say. You're getting it regular even if he is a jerk.
Younger Woman: You’ll find someone. But not if you don’t get out there.
Older Woman: So you think I should do the speed dating thing?
Younger Woman: Of course! You’ve got to do something and you said you don’t meet anyone at work.
Older Woman: There’s no one at work. And all my friends are married and have married friends. Except for my one friend who’s a widower. But we’re not sure about the circumstances which led to him to become a widower, if you know what I mean.
Younger Woman: You’ve got to get back in the game. Who cares who it's with? Small steps…
Phoebe got off the bus at her stop and went up to her apartment. It was laundry night. There was something desperate and lonely about laundry night. She resolved, as she ate peanut butter out of the jar while waiting for her clothes to dry, that she would say yes to James and get into the game.