Happy Hour at our house was fun even though Bart had brought his date. He did take me aside and let me know that their date had been planned for a couple of weeks and he didn't feel he could just blow her off. "What?", I said, "are you considerate?, I like that in a man". We had a few, many, stolen glances across the room and I must say I had not then and have not again seen a man so perfectly proportioned. He really looked chiseled. His face had character more than rugged handsomeness and his eye sparkled. Very expressive, he was animated. I was really enjoying just watching him.
As I recall several weeks passed before I saw Bart again. Elsie had not called so I assumed that Dog was providing for all his needs. THAT BASTARD. Now he WAS the epitome of the man I would not ever talk to again. The fact that I still felt such venom for him was a small indication that he still had some hooks in me, not big ones, just little nasty burrs.
I may be mistaken, (please, Oprah, if you happen to read this I am trying to be accurate), but I believe the next time I saw Bart dateless was at The Christmas Party. THE Zelda and Lillybell H.F.H.F.W.A. annual bash held every Christmas night. That is, "Ho Fucking Ho Fort Worth America", for those who never attended.
I must digress for a few paragraphs.
I have a serious Christmas disease. Zelda also has this illness as does my friend Shaneequa whom you will meet in these pages. I believe I was afflicted when my parents threw Brother and me in the 56 Chevy and off we went to the Drive In to see GIANT. This was before my father decided Liz Taylor was immoral and we could no longer see her movies. I was in my p.j.s and fell asleep shortly after Liz arrives at Reatta and meets James Dean. I woke up during the scene with the two story Christmas tree. I had no idea! THAT was a Christmas tree. I wanted something magnificent for the holiday since that movie.
Zelda and I started making ornaments in high school. We collected ornaments, beautiful, fancy ornaments and we insisted on a Noble Fir. Between the two of us, in our little house, we could decorate every spot. Zelda's dad, The Lesser Santini, did not exactly make holidays fun so we started, in 1973, having a party every Christmas night. I had missed the last 2 or 3 parties in my isolation so I was VERY excited about this gala. By now the H.F.H.F.W.A. Annual Bash was big. We took interior doors down in the house to make more room. The men's room was outside. We had 100 people on good years. We turned our screened in porch into an enclosed space and made it a room. BIG party.
Bart was there, we flirted all night. I could be wrong but I think we twinkled. As things were winding down Bart suggested I might like to go to his house for breakfast. Clever, but no. "I'm not THAT easy", I said, "but please call or visit again and don't bring a date".
Eventually Bart called, we hung out together and he became my mate. We were very nice together, comfortable, fun, never argued and, not to brag, he looked like The David when he was naked. Not the face or the hair, the body. This man and I became rabbits. I don't know if it was because my biological clock had stopped sounding like a metronome and more like an oven timer just begining to ring but we were active. We also had no money between us, he didn't have a TV but he did have a big water bed so really what else was there to do? I never think of him dressed. We spent at least 60% -70%, (MATH!!!), of our time together, well, humping. I was still young and thin enough to wear a Fifi The Upstairs Maid outfit, so I did.
Life was not perfect though. The print shop was failing. The maiden aunts didn't understand that you had to invest money in a business. Even though Bill could keep those old presses running with duct tape and WD-40 we couldn't compete as a full service printing business. It was beginning to look like a matter of time. I could hear my dad's voice echoing in my head, "real job, benefits, insurance".
Maybe whatever happened was meant to be. I was beginning to think I would never get pregnant. I didn't care about married. I wanted to be a mommy. I wanted to parent with someone who would be a great dad. Bart would be a great dad, especially a boy's dad. I really wanted a daughter. I wanted to make my girl feel capable and smart and always remind her of what gifts she was given and what a gift she was.
My dream would come true within the year. Then, of course, it would be squashed like a bug under the foot of fate.
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