Thursday, January 13, 2011

Sue spirals downward when a cupid straight from rehab steps in

Now that the crush of holidays is over, I hope you will settle back and enjoy part 3 of A Tale from Eve's Garden.

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A Tale from Eve’s Garden
By Nan D. Arnold
Part 3

The final vestiges of the glitz of Fashion Week behind them, Jake pushed wobbly kneed Sue into a waiting cab that crept slowly through noisy, crowded streets. “Whadyaknow, wheredaya go?” The cabbie grinned into his grimy mirror. “Or, just wanna drive around so youse can messa round?”

“God, no. I hardly know this man.” Sue blurted out her address. Not that she hadn’t found herself in similar circumstances before. She folded into her wrap, watching Jake from the corner of a bloodshot eye. Meanwhile, the cabbie crooned “New York, New York” off-key with a deep Jersey accent.

Jake gazed out the window on their drive uptown while Sue made a call on her iPhone. Jake remembered finer times when his name on the Broadway marquis invited theatre goers inside to see him, in the lead. I shouldn’t have done this. Always, trying to save the day when my livelihood is flapping in the breeze. What was I thinking! I should be back there, movin’ and shakin', kissing up to Marley. Momentarily glum and deflated, he glanced at Sue. What was her story? At great risk, he must know more about her.

“Marg Applegate, please.” Sue sighed. “Oh, why does Marg insist her PA go everywhere with her? Can’t she answer her own damned phone?" She modulated her tone into a purr. “Marg, Sue here. Sorry, dear, I must cancel plans for brunch at the Modern tomorrow. I anticipate a nasty hangover.”

She rolled her eyes at a glib retort. “Yes, among other things.” She clicked her nails on her purse. “My words are not slurred. Anyway. I adore Danny Meyer’s restaurants, as you know, but barfing up exquisite food in the oh-so-unique co-ed toilette salon there is too dreadful to contemplate. Yes, another time. Ciao.”

”Planning ahead, huh?” Jake grinned.

Staring hard at him, she replied, “Yeah, but not about you!"

What did that mean? Old securities creped in. We don’t have a future?

Sue jumped when the cab screeched to the curb beside her building. Who does he think he is? "I am not a pushover." The cabbie was still singing.

“You, a pushover? Never crossed my mind.” Jake reached for Sue’s hand to help her from the cab. Green eyes met blue again and the moment flashed neon electric.

“Glad to hear it.”

Turning quickly to hide a smile, Jake efficiently paid the singing cabbie and the two stood on the sidewalk.

Awkward. “Thanks for the rescue,” mumbled Sue. Now what?

“Oh, it’s not over yet. Coffee?”

Curiosity getting the best of her drunken state, she said, “Sure, why not?”

“I know we can find an all-night diner somewhere.”

“I’m hardly up for walking. Let’s stay here.”

Jake, feeling confident he would soon know much more about this intriging woman,led Sue to the door. He stopped. This woman’s trouble, like a lovely summer breeze blowing reality right outta my head.…

Meanwhile, in an alternate universe…

A recalcitrant cherub, Stupido Cupido, casually known as SC, played with strings on his bow. He hated rehab. This was his second stint. Porn addiction was an occupational hazard, it could happen to anyone. You guys not in the field don’t get it. All that romance we stir up; the resulting he-ing and she-ing. He merrily recalled the voluptuous blonde who invited her new found heartthrob to try out her round bed…

Dragged back into the moment, a booming voice rang in his ears. “Pay attention.”

“Geez, I thought I’d escaped punishment for my past crimes not to mention my Blue Tooth and Crackberry syndrome once I was dropped back here in the great beyond.”

“No jokes!” the voice bellowed. “This is your last chance pal. If you want to be a certified cupid, get back down there. We have a real people problem. Fix it before a deadly substance slides down the throats of one gullible guy and one disheartened gal into disaster!”

Bam!

In a wink, SC once again in human form lay sprawled across a recycle bin. What the heck? He struggled to his feet and grimaced when he looked down at his clothing. What’s up with this? he puzzled. Am I in Macy’s parade?

About that time, a man in a similar suit whirled around the corner, shouting “This is the last time I’m huntin’ you down. If you’re going to be a doorman, behave like one…get it!”

“Okay, okay,” SC said. “Doorman one-oh-one. Stay at the door. I knew that.” He ambled behind the taller man. “Uh, who are you, again?”

“Are you on drugs, buddy? I’m Roger Spot. I take the shift from 6:00PM to midnight. Oh, and in case you forgot everything else, your shift goes from midnight-meaning it started twenty minutes ago-till 9:00AM. Here’s the Rules sheet. Read it. Do it. Got it?”

“Sure thing, thanks.”

“Because of you, I’m late. My wife is always suspicious when I am late.”

SC frowned. Great, minutes into this new gig and I’m causing problems between a man and wife, not fixing romantic breakdowns. They’ll call me back to rehab in no time. "Arghhh."

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Bye, Shorty.” With a scowl and a shaking finger, the other doorman walked backwards, yelling. “Try to stay awake till the first shift relieves you.” Before he faded into the inky night, SC ran up and handed the man some bills.

“What’s this for?”

“I owe you for being late and all. Buy your wife some flowers.”

“Hey, thanks, was gonna stop by this all night grocer for some smokes, they got those bundled bouquets there. I’ll do that. Sorry I called you Shorty.”

“No biggie.” SC stepped cautiously inside the gilded wooden doors. A doorman, now there’s a perfect assignment. I already feel like a doormat. Gotta say it’s a nice place.

A yellow cab jerked to a stop. With a flourish, SC opened it, smiling. “Hello.”

Sue, still swaddled in a luscious Pashmina, said, “You’re new.”

“Yes miss, I’m SC, here to serve you.”

She must be tipsy to the max. Within seconds upon arriving home, time bent. She still wanted coffee but hadn’t she and Jake discussed that? No more Dom for her, no matter what vintage. Strictly Vive Cliquot from now on. About that craving for caffeine. Ah, Starbucks. “Nice, would you pop over to Starbuck’s and bring back a Venti Mocha?”

SC looked startled.

“Kidding.” She chuckled. “I know you can’t leave the door.” Then she tripped but the man with her, kept her from falling and, under SC’s vigilant stare, helped her into a waiting elevator. SC felt a familiar vibration. So, that’s the pair.

Inside, Sue and Jake rode in silence to the 16th floor. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t communication going on. Their brains and body parts cranked big time to the tune of primordial desire.


Regret soon slapped Sue with ice cold reality. I’m barely sober. I’m so tired I could cry. I don’t know Jake and I can’t always trust Art’s judgment. Her worldly, sophisticated persona crumbled. Stepping out of the elevator, staggering to her door, she unlocked it before an overwhelming dizzy spell sent her crumpling to the floor.

Watch for More Next Week:

Uptown girl falls for actor. What’s his role? superhero, super cad or sap?