Chapter Five
Etta strolled up the steps of the front porch, noticing the old-time rocker and small end table she’d seen there before. Added was something new, a porch swing, that looked newly built from weatherproof wood, still unpainted, hanging from sturdy hooks in the ceiling. While she’d been on her run, a large dumpster had been pulled into position, just in front of the porch, offset a bit. There were several saw horses with plywood spanning between and a circular saw, sitting cockeyed, on top. Along the street she’d just strolled had been a pickup with the end gate down and several materials sticking out the back and a cooler. Apparently Izzy’s brother had been very busy this morning.
She walked into the kitchen, ran some water into her now-empty water bottle, opened the fridge and was amazed. “Wow, that’s a lot of beer.” The words escaped her mouth before she had time to think.
Izzy turned her direction from inside the pantry. “Payment for services rendered for the motley crew. The guys working …. Not the band,” she said, as she smiled.
A grin instantly blossomed on Etta’s face. “Izzy, you’re hilarious. I didn’t have any reason to think Motley Crew would come to Marquette. What are you doing?”
Izzy was still turned into the pantry, with only two or three things left to re-distribute to other shelves. “I’m making you a shelf of your own in here, Etta. You need some place for your stuff.” She turned towards Etta. “I want you to feel at home here.”
Etta was now leaning against the sink, holding her full water-bottle in hand. “Awww, thanks, but I’ll get by. I can keep stuff in my room.”
“Too late. See. Ta-Da! Etta’s shelf.” Izzy waved her hand across the empty space in her best imitation of a Price-Is-Right showroom gesture. “All yours for a low, low price.”
Etta smiled. “Thank you. That was sweet.”
Absentmindedly Izzy said, “Oh, hey, I’m supposed to tell everybody. Tom told me to remind all the girls …. No full frontal nudity today, k?” Etta’s eyebrows raised high in a shocked expression. “Well, not full frontal …. Shit … I’ve got such a potty-mouth. He wants to make sure we keep the clothes on while the guys are working on the roof. More guys will be around this week doing this work than there will be for the rest of the year, so …. Well, close your blinds when you get dressed, doors closed, clothes on. ‘nuf said.”
Etta’s absorbed the information and her face looked less shocked. “Okay. I get it. Did you say Tom?”
“Yeah, my brother. Tom. That’s his name. He’s my twin. He showed up early today. I think he hung the swing on the porch he’s been building in his buddy’s shed.”
Etta’s mind wandered over the possibility that this was “the” Tom from last night. “Okay, I guess you’d just never mentioned his name. I saw the swing when I came in. It’s very nice. That’ll be a great addition to the house. I can see myself relaxing there.”
Izzy stood up out of the pantry she’d been clearing, a bag full of garbage in one hand. “Yeah, that was my mom’s idea. Tom would do anything for mom. He’s okay. You’ll like him. But he said you’d …” Izzy hesitated before she said anything more. Oh yeah, she thought. He said she didn’t know he was her brother. She better leave that alone for the time being. “Never mind. You’ll meet him later, I’m sure.”
Etta turned to set her water-bottle beside the sink. “Remind me to stick this in the fridge once all the beer’s gone. There’s just no room right now. So now that you’re up early and everything, what are your plans for the day?” Etta hoped she could spend some time bonding with Izzy on a Sunday, get to know each other a bit, before the mayhem of the “work-week” began.
Izzy sat down with her bag of garbage for a minute, in the chair at the end of the table, fiddling a bit with the table cloth. “I thought you might want to join me in a very grown up hunt for a new couch. The one we have has seen better days,” she said, using air-quote gestures as she uttered the words ‘seen better days’. “Mom gave me some extra cash to replace it and I thought we could use the man muscle today to take this one out and get the new one in. You up for it?” she asked.
“Sure, sounds fun.”
“Yeah, that way you get at least some say in the décor around here, which is sadly lacking. We’ll just hit thrift shops and try to get a bargain, but …. Oh hey, are you a bargain hunter?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Good. We can dither around and get a good deal. Then,” Izzy said, kind of dreamily, looking up at the ceiling, “I figured I could come back, sit on the porch with one last cheap, meaningless romance novel for the summer and watch the man candy run around shirtless. By the time we get back, you know the shirts will be long gone.” Izzy said this with a sheepish grin, winking slightly and raising one eyebrow.
Etta rolled her head back in laughter. “Okay. That sounds fun too. Only maybe I’ll write. You read.”
“It’s a deal. Let’s go get cleaned up. I get the shower first. I’ll be right up.”
* * *
As Etta walked into the kitchen, she saw Izzy busily making a pitcher of lemonade at the island table. Izzy looked up. “Refreshments for us. No beer. Beer is too fattening. I grabbed some ice from Tom’s cooler for this and hauled it out of his truck. The pickup is empty now so we can go shopping anytime and load it up with a new couch. But maybe we can have a beer/man candy break first?”
“Absolutely. I totally concur. I’ll head out to the porch to watch the action.” She smiled as she left the kitchen and headed out to sit in the rocking chair, placing her notebook and pen on the little table nearby. The dumpster was already about one-third full of shingles, which occasionally would fly off the roof, with a thud into the stacks of debris below. She heard the rumble of male voices, either shouting out commands or with laughter, as they worked two stories above.
Izzy stepped out onto the porch, set down the pitcher of lemonade and two plastic tumblers she’d carried with her onto the table, next to Etta’s writing pad. She took a seat on the new swing and set it to gently swing. “Hey, this is really nice. Didn’t know he had it in him. Hmmmm.” She rubbed her hand over the smoothed and finished wood. “I’ll have to paint it to match and then it’ll be like it was always here. Mom will love it.”
“Yeah, I like it. It’s kind of homey.” With those words, she saw coming down the aluminum ladder the legs of a well-muscled and toned man. It was “the” Tom from CoCo’s who came down the ladder, one step at a time, carrying something in one hand, carefully watching his step as he descended and Etta let out a small gasp. Tom glanced over at the two women sitting on the porch. Their eyes met.
Damn, he thought, no time like the present. He nearly lost his footing descending the remaining three rungs on the ladder. Even though he knew she’d be there at some point, he still found himself breathless at the sight of her. She had no idea how beautiful she was. His mind was now distracted with the coming potential explosion of feelings, recriminations and regret. He walked over to the steps of the porch and leaned against one of the round, white support columns.
“Etta, this is my womb-mate, Tommy Donato. I understand that you’ve met.”
Etta’s eyes glazed in anger. How could he? Why did he have to tell Izzy? Wasn’t it embarrassing enough that everyone at CoCo’s would remember her humiliation forever? Remain calm. Don’t blow this out of proportion. You knew it might be him when she said his name was Tom. Be polite. Be gracious. No, be cold. Cool down. Maybe go the library, grab some A/C and cool down. No, that’s too much. Just go upstairs, take five.
Tom nodded his head to her, acknowledging the introduction, “Etta.”
Etta rose from the rocker, took her pad and pen, stuck out her hand to Tom for a friendly shake, took his hand and shook it as she said, “Tom, good to see you again.” Then she turned to Izzy. “I changed my mind. I think I’ll do some writing in my room for a while. I’ll be down in a bit to go furniture shopping, if you want to wait.” And she stepped into the house, went up to her room and calmly closed her door.
Tom looked at his sister, a look of surprise on his face, “Well, that’s not how I thought that would go. Hmmmm.”
Izzy sat up in the swing, touched her feet to the floor to get it to stop swinging. “What do you mean? How did you think that would go? What’s going on, Tom? There were sparks flying between you two and now she’s run off to her room, just when I thought she was starting to be comfortable.”
“Shit.” Tom lightly tapped a fist against the column he’d been leaning against, then sat down on the railing. “I was worried about that. I’m sorry. This had nothing to do with you.”
Izzy just stared at him, stamping her feet a bit on the floor. “Tom!”
He took a deep sigh. “I might as well tell you the whole thing. You’ll find it out from the gang up there anyway. I was at CoCo’s last night, rounding up the crew for today, when she came in. I didn’t know she was your roommate, Iz. I just saw a pretty girl, went up and flirted a little. Okay, so maybe I flirted more than a little. But she was having fun. She was smiling and,” he said, stressing the last word, “she said her name was Jane, not Etta. I had no idea she was your roommate.”
Izzy was keeping calm, listening attentively. “Okaaaaay.”
Tom went on with his story. “And the show started, which last night was a hypnotist.”
Izzy sat up a little, “Oh for fun! Didn’t she have fun?”
He flashed an impatient glance her direction, “It was fun. It was hilarious. And she was laughing. We were joking with each other. Then the guy, the hypnotist guy, was looking around for couples that didn’t really know each other. And the guys kept pointing in my direction, so he came over to us, asked us how long we’d known each other. He was going on about how he could make strangers fall in love through hypnosis.”
Izzy gasped. “You’re shitting me.”
“I wish I were. So then they’re chanting for us to do it and she went along with it. I think she’s a good egg, Izzy. She hesitated, but she went along. So we’re standing on stage holding hands. And, Iz, I honestly don’t really know what else happened after that. The next thing I know I’m waking up and she’s standing about two inches in front of me, her ponytail is all mussed up, her face and lips are all swollen, you know, like we’d been necking for hours, the button on my jeans is undone and I was sporting …well … you know.”
As Tommy had gotten more and more into his story, Izzy’s face had turned from one of concern to a smirk to a smile to all out laughter. It was more than just ordinary laughter, but gut-wrenching laughter and takes your breath away. Izzy’s face, alighted with humor, “No, don’t tell me anymore. God, Tommy, stop a minute. I need to breathe,” she said, holding her hand up to him to stop.
“Stop laughing, dammit. It’s not funny,” he said, somewhat angrily.
“The hell it’s not.” Izzy slapped her knee.
“Well, then the guy asked her ‘Well, Jane, are you sure you’ve never kissed this man?’ And she said, ‘Absolutely not! And my name is Etta, not Jane.’ And well, that’s when I knew. Shit. It’s the new gal. And she stormed out of there ... well, walked out quickly.” He took a deep breath as he finished his story.
“Oh, man. Poor Etta. They conned her into kissing you.” Izzy held an arm to her stomach as the waves of laughter abated. “So that’s it?”
Tom rolled his head a bit. “Well, I went after her. I wanted to make sure she got home okay, once I knew for sure where she was headed. Then we … well, I’m not a monk, Izzy! And have you seen her? She’s drop-dead gorgeous!” Frustration was in his voice.
“Yes. Yes, she is. I’d kill for that body. I wouldn’t run at six am, but I might kill for it.”
“Well, I knew I’d probably pay for it today, but, I conned my way into a kiss, this time fully conscious.” He hung his head a bit, somewhat ashamed that he had potentially screwed up life for Izzy.
Izzy pondered the situation for a moment, tapping one finger to her temple. “And that’s it? That’s all?”
“Yeah, that’s it. End of story. But all the morons,” he said, pointing upwards, “were there and they saw everything that happened …. well, even what I don’t really know happened, which had to have been something pretty embarrassing for both of us.” Now he raised the palms of his hands to his face, disturbed that he didn’t know how to fix this situation.
“Okay. Tom. I understand it all now, I think. Don’t go beating yourself up. You didn’t do that much wrong. Let’s just play it by ear, okay?” She rose from the swing, mirrored his position next to him on the railing, put a hand on his forearm. “She didn’t really seem angry. Maybe she just needed some space. I think she figured out you were my brother earlier today. She’ll get over it. Just let me handle it, okay? Trust me?”
Tom put his hand over hers. “Of course. I love you. I’ve gotta get back to work. I’m gonna grab some Tylenol and take a load back up. You work your magic.”
“Okay, but send Brian down to get what you need. I’ll take it from there.”
* * *
Up in her room, Etta turned the window fan on high and opened her door to let some kind of breeze flow through. It was a stifling day, so she couldn’t stay upstairs all day without suffocating. Besides she wasn’t really mad at Tom. She knew, deep in her heart, that he hadn’t done anything wrong. All he was guilty of was flirting, unashamedly flirting, but still just flirting. And he was cute when he was flirting.
Nobody here knew that being publically humiliated was a touchy thing to her. They had no way to know and she was going to keep it that way. The more she showed sensitivity to this issue, the more of an issue it would be. If there was anything she’d learned in the past year, it was how to downplay your weaknesses, how to keep it from being a weakness. That’s what she’d worked on with her therapist, not just hiding your sensitivities from others, but stopping the sensitivity. If you let it bother you, then it would bother you.
So she really needed to make peace with this. Tom wasn’t going to go anywhere. After all, this is his family’s house. She was just renting a room. And Izzy was delightful. How could her twin be anything but a nice guy? He’d certainly seemed like a nice guy last night, one who didn’t take any more than she’d offered. And God knew, that had been a first for her. Well, not a first, but rare.
So she needed to make peace with whatever had happened between them at CoCo’s that she may never really understand. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what had happened. So she needed to stop thinking about it. Downplay it with others and downplay it in her mind. She needed to get busy with the plans she’d had for the day, get busy with her new life. And part of that was shopping with Izzy, enjoying her flirty personality. She needed to get to know Izzy and Sophie and Gabby and Sarah and Liz when they showed up next week. She needed to get to know Tom, not just as the flirty guy, but as Izzy’s family. And that needed to start today. Now. Downstairs.
Yeah, she could do this. Izzy would understand. By now Tom had certainly told her or the guys on the roof would tell her. What if those guys went on and on about it? Downplay it, don’t let it bother you. Brush it off. If you let it bother you, then it will bother you. Okay, she could deal with this. Face the music. Maybe after another five minutes of self-talk. Nothing wrong with a little self-talk.
* * *
Etta stepped out to the porch, sat down in the rocker again, laid down her writing tools and picked up the glass of lemonade Izzy had poured for her. “Oh hey, how you doing?” Izzy asked.
“Good. Better. You know?”
“Yeah, he told me. I’m sorry, Etta. I can imagine how horrible it would be to realize you’d kissed that ugly mug.” She had a smirky smile on her face. “I apparently got all the good looks and glamour genes in utero and he got stuck with that. Don’t blame him ‘cause he’s ugly.” She smiled and winked.
She returned Izzy’s brilliant smile. “Thanks, Izzy. But you know damned well that he’s not ugly.”
Izzy shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, but don’t tell him. It’ll make his head bigger than it is already.”
“So where are Sophie and Gabby? I heard them, but I haven’t seen them yet today.”
“Oh, I sent them out to hunt and gather. They’re running errands, grocery and drug store. Sorry, I should’ve asked if you needed anything. Do you?”
“Nope, I’m good, but thanks.” She hesitated for a minute, then said, “We’re gonna make good roommates.”
“Yeah, I think we really will. So, you ready to meet the cavalry? All the shirts are off now. I checked. Hubbahubba.” Izzy’s hearty laughter rolled over Etta, making her laugh from the inside out. How could you not like this girl?
“Okay, here goes.” Izzy walked down the steps, walked out on the lawn, looked up to the roofline, put her fingers in her lips and loudly whistled like a fan at a ballgame. Anyone in the neighborhood could’ve heard that whistle. “Come and get it. Beer break boys! And I’ve got Nutter Butters.”
Etta rolled her head back and laughed uncontrollably. Oh my God! She is an absolute hoot.
Izzy walked back up the stairs to come and sit back down on the swing. “That’ll do ‘em. Oh, sure, you laugh now. Just wait ‘til you’re madly in love with one of them, having his babies. Here they come!”
Half-climbing, half-sliding down the ladder came a young man with no shirt, tanned with bright red hair in a stiff, Mohawk-like style, who came to the bottom of the stairs, got down on one knee, held out his arms straight and shouted. “Izzy, my love! I want you! I need you! Say you’ll be mine!”
Izzy shouted to him. “Dammit Murphy, shut your pie-hole, you damned fool! Somebody will think you’re serious! Grab a beer and sit down.” Behind him came three more young men, another with red hair, but more slimframed and less tan. Another had dark curly hair and glasses, and another was tall, skinny and lanky, and climbing the spans between the porch step railing and the edge of the dumpster parked next to it.
Murphy came up to the porch, plunked down next to Izzy and proceeded to rub his face and head in her neck. “Give me a little peck, Izzy. A little encouragement for a job well done.” Izzy slapped her hands in the air at him. “Stop it, Murphy. You’re sticky and you stink!” Tom had yet to come down the ladder and Etta could hear him still walking around on the roof above.
The dark-haired man, leaned against the porch railing across from Etta. The second, skinnier redhead slowly walked up the steps, grabbed a beer from the cooler behind him, tossed them, one-by-one to his fellow workmates. He walked up to Etta, held out his hand, looked at it, then wiped it on the thigh of his jeans, then returned his held out hand in a position to shake. “You’re Etta, right? We all saw you last night, but didn’t get a chance to say hello. I’m Brian Donovan, a friend of Tom and Izzy’s from home. This moron here,” pointing to the other red-haired young man, “is Chad Murphy. This here is Wally Epstein.” The dark-haired young man nodded his head to her, and tipped his bottle of beer towards her. “And the monkey man is Domonic Mazzitello.”
Murphy shouted out, “So a Jew, two Micks and two Italians walk into a bar. A hypnotist showed up ….” Almost instantaneously a chorus of “Shut up, Murphy!” rang out from everyone on the porch.
“Please don’t mind the village idiot, Etta,” Brian said.
“Hey! I resemble that remark!” Murphy called out.
“I’m really sorry if you felt embarrassed by that hypnotist last night. You didn’t do anything wrong and certainly nothing to be ashamed of. So don’t sweat it, okay? And that’s the last we’re gonna talk about it, boys, because that would make Etta and Tom feel even more embarrassed than they already do. And that’s not what friends do, right?” Brian ended his statement and drank down a swig of his beer.
Again, a chorus of “Yeahs” went around the entire group and nodding from all of the young men gathered. Etta had seen, from the corner of her eye, Tom climbing down the ladder and walking up the steps to stand behind Brian.
“So, Etta,” Brian said, as he took another pull from his beer, “From whence do you hail?”
Etta stood up. “From Minnesota, like the Donatos. And Brian?”
“Yeah?”
She walked up to him, took his face in both of her hands. “I think I love you!” She gave him a huge kiss directly on the lips. “I’ll go get you guys those Nutter Butters. Be right back.” She walked into the house, closing the screen door behind her. Brian stood with an intensely shocked look on his face. “Holy shit! She kissed me!”
Tom slapped his friend on the back, “Lucky Sucker! Hand me a beer.”
As Etta walked into the kitchen, on the center table sat a single pink rosebud in a white bud vase with a note tucked under the vase that read: “Etta – Your change”. This simple gesture made her break into a wide smile. Okay. Tom was cute. And sweet. It would be so easy to fall into a flirty thing with him, but that’s not what she wanted or needed now. She stepped into the pantry, found the Nutter Butters then searched through the kitchen to find a paper and a pen or pencil, jotted a quick note, folded it over and walked back outside.
When Etta returned, she held out the cookie package for each of the guys who frantically grabbed at them, one at a time. When she came to Tom, she held out the note to him, saying, “An urgent message for you, sir.” She continued on to share cookies with the rest of the gang. Tom opened the note, which read: “Roses are red, Violets are Blue, I wasn’t really mad at you. We’re Square. Friends?” Tom smiled a wry smile, looked up at Etta, who had returned to her chair. She looked Tom in the eye. “Well?” She pulled her legs up to hug them with her arms.
“Sure.” And he gently smiled. His heart ached at the idea that he’d have to give up the chance for any more of those sweet kisses with her. He knew that this was, indeed, the wisest course for the near future, considering the close-quarters living they’d be exposed to over the upcoming year, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little.
No one discussed the incident with the hypnotist. They had a great conversation about the Vikings, the pros and cons of living in Minnesota vs. Michigan, the advantages of non-skid steering, front-wheel drive vs. four-wheel drive, diesel vs. gas combustion pickups and every other subject under the sun. Then after forty-five minutes of cheerful chatting, Murphy asked, “So neither of you remember a damned thing?” Both Tom and Etta instantly retorted “NO!” to which everyone roared with laughter and from that point on nobody ever uttered the word ‘hypnotist’ again.