My Date with Eddie
When it seemed the coast was clear and Fortnum’s wasn’t going to be raided by a SWAT team in search of the perps who trashed an Einstein’s Bagels, Indy took me to her house.
She’d given me a gril ing about my wardrobe and decided nothing I had would do. She cal ed Al y into the Kil er Eddie Date Outfit Search. Al y bagged up some of her clothes and accessories and we al descended on Indy’s duplex.
I tried on one hundred thousand outfits before we settled on something. Nice, but not too nice. Sexy, but not obvious.
Cool, but not trying to be cool.
It included Al y’s green, wraparound top that showed a bit of cle**age, was super tight everywhere and the sleeves were way long and had a little hole in them that hooked on your thumb. This topped a pair of Indy’s jeans that were faded enough not to look like I was being dressy but also not too grungy. We added a bunch of Indy’s silver bangles on my wrist, worn over the fabric of the top and some big, dangly earrings of Al y’s. The kicker was a pair of strappy green sandals that were so sexy, Smithie would have let me break the color code for shoes at work. These were borrowed from Indy’s next-door neighbor who was Denver’s top drag queen. Luckily, he had smal feet (or I liked to think that way, not that my feet were large).
Al y took me home and, as usual, I was running late. I’d need a decade to prepare myself to be a suitable date to Eddie’s lusciousness. I needed an hour just to get ready for Smithie’s. I had forty-five minutes to get ready for Eddie.
I was in my room, finishing my hair when the buzzer went and panic seized me.
“I’l get it,” Mom shouted.
At the thought of Mom letting Eddie in, panic dissolved into nearly uncontrol ed hysteria.
“Tel him I’m running late,” I shouted back.
“Good girl, keep him waiting,” Mom encouraged.
My mother.
I rushed through the final touches, nearly forgot the bangles and went into a mini-freak out when I couldn’t find a suitable purse. I had a ful mental conversation convincing myself that guys didn’t notice purses when a knock sounded at my door.
“Eddie’s waiting,” Mom shouted through the door, obviously thinking that Eddie’d waited long enough.
“Coming!” I yel ed back.
I got over the purse trauma, grabbed the one I normal y used and rushed to the door when I heard the buzzer go again.
“I’l get it,” Mom shouted, outside my door.
Who in the hell?
I walked out and Eddie was lounging in the living room.
Jeans had been a good cal . He looked no different than normal. Long-sleeved, black, thermal tee, worn jeans, black cowboy boots and a black belt with a silver buckle.
No matter how casual he was dressed, he could have been in a magazine.
His eyes changed when he saw me and he came out of his chair.
“Hi,” I said and just stopped myself from slapping my forehead as it came out breathy, like I’d just run a race.
He didn’t say anything, he just smiled.
My insides curled.
“Look who’s here!” Mom cal ed, wheeling in using her foot with Trixie behind her, carrying an overnight bag.
I stared.
Then Trixie started speaking. “I thought to myself, ‘Self?
What are you gonna do on a boring Thursday night?’ and I answered myself, ‘You’re gonna have a sleepover with your good friend Nancy.’ So here I am,” Trixie said, as if she had sleepovers with Mom al the time (which she did not). “You must be Eddie,” She dropped the bag and smiled at Eddie.