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“If you ever want to quit the college, you could go into cake decorating,” she said as she looked at the cake. “That’s gorgeous.”
“Thanks, but I think I will keep my day job,” I replied.
Clara couldn’t toast bread without burning it. She was easily impressed. I could have put peanut butter on toast and then placed a marshmallow on top with a candle sticking out, and she’d have thought it was great.
“Probably best. It comes with health insurance,” she agreed, then grinned at me. “So, tell me, are you going out with Gavin or not? Did you decide?”
Ever since I had told Clara about Gavin, she’d been driving me nuts, pushing me to go on a date. It was as if it were her life mission to get me laid this summer. She thought sex fixed everything. Maybe for her, it did, but I didn’t see it that way. Sex complicated things. It made people act differently. I was perfectly content with my vibrator and memories of Dean Finlay pushing me against a wall. That was something I’d never admit though. Admitting it would mean I was an idiot. No, I was an idiot for getting off, thinking about the man. Admitting it would be sharing my idiocy with others.
“He wants to go out tomorrow night. I think I’m going to go,” I told her instead.
She threw her arms in the air and yelled, “Score!” as if this were a football game and she were still a cheerleader.
I shook my head and handed her the bag of things for Mrs. Jo’s party. “Take this, and let’s get going. Damar and Jim are coming home early from the office to join us. I don’t want them to beat us there.”
“I’m so jealous of Jim. Damar is so hot. Why, oh why does he have to bat for the other team?”
I rolled my eyes and headed for the door with the cake. “Don’t flirt with him, please. It makes them both uncomfortable.”
Clara shrugged. “Fine. I’ll leave him alone. He doesn’t know what he is missing though.”
“Yes, he does. Remember, he was married to a woman for two years in college. He isn’t interested in what’s between your legs.”
“He was just trying out the wrong vagina,” Clara said. “That’s all.”
“Gross. Please shut up now and be normal,” I told her.
“Normal is not fun. How many times do I have to tell you that?” she replied and jerked open my apartment door with way more energy than necessary.
I followed her out of it, and then she closed and locked it behind us. We were at Mrs. Jo’s door when it swung open, and Mrs. Jo stood in a bright pink dress, covered in roses. She’d even curled her hair. One of the curlers was still in the back. I could see it poking out behind her neck. I doubted she knew that. I’d fix it for her before anyone else arrived.
“Happy birthday!” I exclaimed, and she clapped her hands together as she took in the cake.
“It’s beautiful! I’ve never had a cake so lovely!” she said happily.
“Last year’s cake tasted good, but you’re right, Mrs. Jo; this one is beautiful. Definitely makes up for the way last year’s looked,” Clara said, walking inside, then placing a kiss on Mrs. Jo’s cheek.
I was forever going to be teased about my attempt at making a cake in the shape of a rose. I had seen it on Pinterest and was so sure I could do it. In the end, the unanimous decision had been that it looked more like a penis and ball sack.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Jo. “Every woman needs a penis cake once in her life. God knows a real penis doesn’t taste good.” She grimaced. “Nasty things.”
Clara threw back her head and laughed.
“I, myself, like the taste of penis, but I’ll agree that the cake penis was a delicious one,” Damar said from the doorway.
Mrs. Jo began to laugh and then went to hug both men. Jim was carrying a small Tiffany Blue gift bag, and I knew it had a piece of jewelry that would delight Mrs. Jo. She made them pies and cookies all year, but in return, they bought her the best birthday gifts. I wished I’d had money to do the same, but the best I could do was make the cake and get the party supplies.
“Look at this place,” Jim said as he walked inside. “Damn, I wish the sprinkler had gone off in our apartment,” he added.
Mrs. Jo beamed with pride. “Isn’t it wonderful? Go sit on that sofa. It is the softest thing I’ve ever sat on. I could sleep there all night and not even ache the next morning.”
A very tiny part of me had sofa envy now that mine was likely on its last leg. And the smell was not going away. But I’d made my stance about not needing replacement furniture, and I had to stick with it.
I reached into the party bag and pulled out the hats I’d bought, then passed them around to everyone before placing one on my head. I had bought a paper tiara for Mrs. Jo, and I went to put it on her head. I pulled the last roller from her hair and winked at her, then tucked it in my pocket to put away later.
“What’s your new furniture look like, Brielle?” Damar asked.
“She didn’t get any,” Clara answered for me, then rolled her eyes. “She’s stubborn as fuck.”
