Although she was just a child in that decade, it seems pop songs are her favorite. I sometimes hear her playing that type of music when she’s doing her workout routine and since we both need to increase our exercise regime, the eighties it is.
I start swaying my hips to some hair metal song I can’t name. The eighties, unfortunately, were just a blur to me. Back then, I was too busy trying to survive, working two jobs and hustling for a buck.
Cindy drifts past me, grooving to the music, a bottle of white in one hand and two long-stemmed glasses dangling from the other.
“Are you going to join us on the deck?” she asks as she spins around, heading out the doorway.
“Why not,” I reply.
“Then grab a glass,” she says, glancing over her shoulder.
I stride into the kitchen and open a bottle of red, refilling my glass. Sipping it, I head outside to join the ladies under the stars.
I have to admit, it is kind of fun having Cindy around, someone who gets my crass humor and who’s not so serious. She’s not sensitive and uptight like Val. That woman can be so emotional and boring at times.
I sometimes miss those wanton days, lusting after women like Cindy. The good for a day, better for a night, and best when you leave them in the morning type of gals.
Taking a long sip of wine, I tell myself to stop. It’s not me, it’s not who I am anymore. It’s the wine working its wicked way through my veins. Such a sinful spirit it is.
I take a seat next to Val at our new bamboo dining set with different colored chairs, two green and two yellow. It seems to be the style these days. Val fell in love with the set the second she saw it, so I bought it for her. The only time she seems content is when she busies herself with decorating. We all have our little hobbies we enjoy.
I look at her sitting there quietly in a yellow chair while noticing my chair is green. Gripping her wine glass, she gives me a lopsided grin. At times I wonder if we’re suited for each other or are we, once again, just another mismatch.
I don’t think Val likes my style. It’s okay, most women don’t. It’s more of what you might call an acquired taste. My last wife called it cheesy. No, that wasn’t it. Oh, what was the word? Let me think for a moment… chintzy. Yes, that’s the word; it’s precisely what she used to say every time I showed her something I liked.
But David, it’s so not me, it’s so chintzy. I picture her overdrawn hot pink lips yakking away. Her constant drivel drove me bonkers.
Cindy snaps me out of my self-wallowing pity party—literally. I gaze up and there she is, snapping her pointy-nailed fingers in front of my face. She could slice salami with those talons.
“David, did you hear me?” She appears slightly irked.
“No, what did you say?” I cup my ear.
“I said what’s up with your friend Conchita and her tea?” Wine spills from her glass as she takes a forceful swig.
“She makes homemade tea.”
“Uh, duh. Tell me something I don't know,” she rolls her eyes.
“She has a garden full of flowers and herbs. She enjoys making different blends of tea.”
“Well, whatever she's mixing up is giving Val nightmares and making her sick.”
“I know, Val has told me the way she feels after drinking the tea. Conchita needs to rebalance the blend. I’ve been helping her with it; we’re trying to get the formula right.”
“What formula? The one for her new desperate tea?” She cackles.
“Desperate?” I ask. I think Cindy’s confused.
“What did she call that new tea she brought over earlier?” She looks over at Val.
“Something like the word desperada or desperado… I’m not sure of the pronunciation,” Val replies.
“Despierta,” I say. The word is despierta.”
“What does it mean?” Cindy asks.
“Awake.”
“So, she has tea to make you sleep and now tea to keep you awake.” She rolls her eyes again. “How convenient is that?”
“It's not what you think,” I hesitate. “It’s a different kind of awake.”
Cindy pauses and peers at Val and they exchange a funny look.
Running a hand through my hair, I let out a breath. I am not in the mood to go there tonight. The ‘awake’ tea is not something you can explain to someone when their thoughts are clouded. The first rule of being awake is being pure and clean, cleansed from all distractions. Alcohol does the complete opposite; it taints the mind. They’re not ready to receive the message and I’m not sure if they ever will be.
“Fess up David, what’s going on here?” Val demands. “You’re never around. I feel like I'm in the dark about everything.”
“That wine has made you quite fearless,” I say, holding her gaze.
“Liquid wisdom,” Cindy says and then bursts out laughing.
“The true beverage is tea… not wine,” I correct her. “Tea is liquid wisdom.” I ponder for a moment while scratching my chin. “Thank you, Cindy. You just gave me a brilliant idea.”
They both turn and give me the evil eye.
“I think I'll use that name for our new company.”
“What new company?” Val asks bemused.
“I was going to surprise you, but it's impossible to keep a secret around here.”
“It’s not good to keep secrets in relationships,” Cindy yaps. “Haven’t you heard?”
“Conchita and I are going into business together,” I announce, hoping they’ll shut their mouths for a moment.
“Doing what?” Val asks.
“Selling tea?” Cindy guesses.
“Correct.” I point to Cindy. “We’re going to sell tea, homegrown, specialty-brewed tea. ‘Liquid Wisdom’ is the perfect name for it.”
“Well, glad I could help,” Cindy waves a hand through the air and saunters away.
Val stares at her empty wine glass looking dejected. Scooting my chair closer, I wrap my
