“Sorry!”
“Relax! It has a lot of power!” William laughed.
William didn’t even say anything when Girl accidentally drove over the curb pulling into his driveway.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll schedule my doctor’s appointments for your days off. I like you taking me.” His face was pale and worn. Although he said he was Spanish, Tony always called him a Mexican. Either way, he was tanned and dark before he got sick. Now he was slightly yellow.
“It’s okay. I don’t have anything else to do.”
“And you should come to the birthday party I’m having for Tony next week! It’s going to be so fabulous. You can bring a friend if you want to. Tony’s turning forty, and can you believe his lover isn’t having a party for him? And all the guys at work—no one offered to host! And they say they are his friends, but not one of them offered to throw him a party. I said I’d do it, because someone has to do something. Have you ever had caviar?” Girl could tell he was waning, despite his enthusiasm about the party. She handed him the embossed leather Porsche key fob and he trudged slowly up to his red front door. He didn’t ask her in.
Girl was still dating Jacob, but she didn’t really want to bring him to the party. It wasn’t his kind of thing. Although he had come into the shop once or twice to meet the guys, he was coolly arrogant and didn’t talk much. He said Ryan was the only one he liked; the rest were too flitty. Jacob was two years older than Girl and was born-again Christian. He didn’t approve of going to parties where alcohol was served, and besides, Fridays were his jam session with all his guitar friends. She couldn’t really expect him to miss the one night he looked forward to all week just to go to party where he didn’t know anybody.
She had met a girl named Sharon recently, and Girl thought Sharon’d be fun to bring instead, but she was nervous to ask her. Sharon had graduated high school a semester early and already went to college. She was beautiful, too, with long red hair and perfect makeup. Sharon was one of those girls who could make jeans and a T-shirt look like high fashion. Still, she always smiled sincerely when she ran into Girl. They had talked about getting together sometime, but neither of them had followed up. Girl was too shy to go alone, though, so she invited Sharon the next time she spoke to her.
“Hey, do you want to go to a gay party this weekend with me? For the flower shop,” she explained. “It’s one of the guy’s birthdays.”
“I’d totally love to! I’ve never been to a gay party before! What are you wearing? Is it fancy?” Sharon asked Girl.
“William is always fancy. I promised him I’d wear a dress.”
“A dressy dress? Or a regular dress? I have a cocktail dress from when my dad took us on a cruise. It’s not like a prom gown or anything. I kind of like it.”
“I don’t think I’m wearing a dressy dress. I have this white dress. Kinda tailored, with a button lacey thing on the shoulder. I’m wearing that. I don’t have a car, though.”
“I’ll pick you up. I love to drive. It’s no big deal, really.” Sharon was nice to reassure her, like she could read Girl’s insecurity through the phone line.
They arranged the details, and Girl was glad she asked Sharon. Girl hadn’t had that friend-chemistry in a long time, and she was kind of between best friends at the moment. Sharon was magnetic, smart, and funny. Girl wanted to be around her all the time.
William lived in the top half of a double house off Park Avenue. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but when Sharon and Girl walked in it was like something from a designer magazine, with black leather sofas, gold lamé curtains, and shiny hardwood floors. It was the most stylish house Girl had ever been in. The dining room table was pushed against the wall and covered with a black linen tablecloth. Votive candles winked in round glass bowls among the trays of finger food William had displayed on risers of varying heights. Tiny black pearls of sturgeon caviar were mounded in a bowl nestled in ice. Gold Mylar balloons bumped against the ceiling, their curved edges touching, gold and silver streamers hanging to the floor straight and nearly motionless, until you parted the waterfall to walk through the room, causing the gold foil spheroids to quiver and bob.
“Oh my God, William! I love your place!” Girl said after they exchanged kisses.
“Do you like my curtains?”
“They are fabulous!” Girl said in an affected gay parody.
“I made them myself! I just got yards of gold lamé and wrapped it around the pole and stuffed it with newspapers.”
He left them to go mingle with newly arriving guests, and Sharon and Girl sank side by side into the buttery-soft black leather loveseat. Tony arrived, wearing black combat boots over ripped fishnet stockings, topped with a gold lamé thrift store prom dress that he was too wide to zip up. The zipper hung open in a V to his waist, exposing his back like a high fashion designer had drawn the dress to be worn in just that way. His frizzy black hair hung loose around his shoulders, and he had a cigarette in one hand and a cocktail in the other. He had replaced the silver hoop that normally adorned his left nostril with a two-inch blue horn that reached upward toward his temple, his expression mimicking an exuberant and slightly crazed Jack Nicholson from The Shining.
“Who is this fabulous creature?” Tony asked Girl, taking Sharon’s hand
