Ma’am’s den was past the formal living room at the end of an art lined hallway. It was a mammoth cave of a room. One wall of heavily curtained windows had a giant fireplace in the middle. A multitude of couches filled the room, all facing a 1980’s big screen projection TV. The only light came from a delicate fire in the fireplace, a small lamp on a side table and a giant artificial Christmas tree decorated with the old fashioned giant white lights that lit it so bright you could hardly look directly at it. The tree’s main decoration was silver tinsel that appeared to have just been thrown at the tree in clumps. An old teddy bear was wired to the top causing the branch to droop dramatically.
“Isn’t she a hoot?” Thad asked, going over to open up a set of folding doors to reveal a pocket bar built into the wall.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s just great.” I said warming myself by the fire.
“Mr. Pibb okay?” He asked, rummaging around the liquor bottles. “It’s all she seems to have that’s non-alcoholic…”
“Sure, sure. This is great house. She seems to have some beautiful pieces. The totem pole in the entry hall is amazing. ” I said.
“Oh yeah. That was from Mr. Fritz, husband number two. He was from Alaska. Ma’am’s always been loaded. And she used to have the biggest parties here. My parents let me come once or twice when I was a kid, until they heard she gave me champagne, and then that was it.”
“It all sounds very Mame meets Great Gatsby meets the Department of Child Services.”
“Yeah,” he laughed, “I guess so.”
I walked over to him and beginning to finally feel at ease put my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for inviting me. It means a lot to me.”
He shrugged my hand off and I blanched, but tried to hide it.
“Hey watch it with the touching while we’re here, okay?” He handed me a highball glass of pop and went to sit down, turning on the gargantuan TV. He flipped by It’s A Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street before he settling on an America’s Next Top Model marathon on Bravo. The remote was the size of a small laptop.
Trying not to look hurt, I sat on the couch opposite of him and occupied myself by picking lint balls off my sweater. He was still mad, still distant, and I just had to suck it up. At least we were here; at least he was letting me get to know some of his family. But I wish he wasn’t mad about last night. We sat in silence and watched Tyra Banks insult skinny girls.
After what seemed like an hour, but was probably only fifteen minutes, Ma’am came teetering in to join us, her giant crystal cup again full of brown drink.
“Now don’t you boys look comfy? This was always Mr. Jones’ favorite room.”
“Third and final husband,” Thad said to me out of the side of his mouth.
I rose to help her sit and said, “You have such a lovely home.”
“Why thank you.” She perched on a small velveteen couch embroidered with roses. “It has seen better days, but haven’t we all? I am so glad you both could come. Thad, how have you been? You haven’t been calling as much as you used to.”
Thad frowned and muted Tyra, “I’ve been fine, just busy.”
“You’re not working are you?” She asked, as if it were a bad thing.
“Oh no,” he answered, as if that was a good thing.
“Wonderful to hear. But you’re keeping busy?” she took a long drink.
“Yeah, yeah. Just trying to keep up with everything, what with the holidays and all.” He said somewhat disinterested, still watching the muted TV.
“Oh, that’s good. I love Christmas. See the teddy bear at the top of the tree? That was Thad’s. I bought it for him the day he was born. And when my old angel broke a few years ago I just decided Teddy should go up there, and he’s been our tree topper ever since.”
“I noticed that.” I said, moving to sit next to her. “It’s very nice, very sentimental.”
“Did you get to see your family this holiday Michael?”
“Yes, yes I did.”
I told her about my family and my job and about my schooling and teaching at the University, and she just cooed and smiled along, stopping me with a touch on the arm whenever she had a question or a point she wanted to discuss.
“And what about you?” I asked. “Thad has told me you have had a very exciting life.”
“Oh, bless you!” She giggled. “I’m just a country girl gone good!”
Ma’am went on to tell me how much she enjoyed growing up in Oklahoma City in the 1930’s and 40’s, about her first husband, her daughter, Thad’s mom, and about her later two husbands, continuing to touch my hand every so often to make a point. Even though Thad wasn’t participating, I could tell he was listening because whenever it sounded like we might verge unto ‘personal’ territory, he would slide his eyes our direction tensely. The tapping of his fingers meant he wanted a cigarette but I assumed he did not bring them, as I knew he would never smoke in front of his family, as his mother would kill him.
“Well, it has been my pleasure getting to know you Michael,” She said, rising slowly.
“And likewise,” I smiled, rising with her.
“I told Thad he could bring someone to dinner, and I thought he would bring a young lady, but I am so pleased to meet someone as charming as you. Thad, you haven’t said much. Have you met the right girl yet?”
As I turned to hide my bugged out eyes, Thad rotated away from us, I assuming also not to give himself away. “Nope. I’m still just waiting for the right girl to come along.”
“Oh, well. Give it some time.” Ma’am said walking over to tousle his hair. “Good things come to those who wait. I’m going to check on Esteban. Dinner should be ready soon.”
She exited the room with some difficulty, and I stayed motionless, freaked out. As she disappeared from sight, I looked at Thad, my mouth open. He looked back at me and rolled his eyes histrionically.
I sat down right next to him on the big couch to whisper, “You’re kidding, right? She has no idea? We’re two forty year old men living together. What does she think?”
“I am not 40!”
“You're 39.”
“Whatever,” he said. "Let’s just leave it the way that it is. I’m fine with it.”
“What, that she thinks you’re straight, Mr. Butch man? You know Helen Keller could see it on you a mile away.”
“I know you are but what am I?” he mocked.
“And you’re ‘just waiting for the right girl to come along’?” I snorted.
“I guess,” he laughed, “more like waiting for the girl with the right dick to come along would be more exact.” He chortled a dirty little giggle.
“Oh for God’s sake.” I looked away.
He unmuted the TV for us to hear Tyra continue to berate skinny girls.
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