Part 19 (1/2)
I shrugged. ”It's all setup, man. I gave her instructions before we left.”
The difference between my apartment and Hank's was apparent the moment you stepped inside my door. Hank had had all of his odd-sized mismatched furniture s.h.i.+pped up from Florida, and he hadn't added anything new to it. Mrs. Sinkiewicz cleaned his bedroom and half of his living room, but the other half of his living room was still stacked with unpacked cardboard boxes. His sailfish, with just the sword sticking out, was still wrapped up in a foam-rubber blanket. Hank's apartment was depressing, but mine was light and cheerful. The way my white leather furniture was placed, my living room looked almost twice as large as Hank's. Eddie, of course, had rented his apartment furnished, and he didn't give a d.a.m.n whether he furnished it with new stuff or not. But there were twin beds in Eddie's bedroom, which was at least convenient, with Don living with him. My apartment was the logical place to have the party, and I had insisted on it.
Merita looked so d.a.m.ned good, when we came into my apartment that even I was astonished. I had never seen her short natural hair in anything but braided corn-rows, which made her look almost bald, or close to it; but she surprised us--me most of all--with a giant Afro wig when she opened the door. It was a huge wig, and I supposed she had bought it at the Beauty College--or borrowed it for the night--and it had changed her entire appearance. The long kinky hair stood out for a full foot all of the way around her head, and she looked as feminine as a mother cat. She wore a white satin pants suit, with lace at the cuffs and collar, and the same matching lace bordered the bottom of her bell trousers. She was nervous, of course, and her long fingers fluttered, but everything in the apartment was perfect. She had fixed the buffet on the white parson's table just outside the kitchen door. The liquor gla.s.ses, ice bucket and mixes were neatly arranged on the coffee table, we could all fix fresh drinks from a seated position without getting up.
Merita took our outer coats into the bedroom to hang them up. Hank looked at all of the finger food displayed on the buffet, grinned and shook his head. ”You really overdid it, Fuzz-O. It's beautiful, but who can eat anything else after that dinner we had?”
”You'll probably be hungry later. Fix your own drinks,” I announced. I crossed to the stereo to take off the James Brown, which I replaced with my favorite Van Morrison alb.u.m-- ”Hard Nose the Highway.”
Eddie and Hank mixed themselves Chivas and sodas. Don stared glumly at the table, twisting each bottle one quarter turn. ”I don't see any wine,” he said.
”Hank and I have been meaning to talk to you about that, Don,” I said. ”You've got to get off that Ripple kick. I've got plenty of champagne in the fridge for you--or for anybody else who wants it, but you'd probably be better off drinking Chivas.”
”I just don't like the taste of scotch, is all,” Don said.
”I'll get the champagne.”
Hank laughed. ”It was pretty funny, though. I didn't think Korean's were capable of showing any emotion on their faces until Don asked that guy for a gla.s.s of Pagan Pink Ripple.”
”I just said that to be funny,” Don said, flus.h.i.+ng slightly.
Eddie laughed. ”It was funny all right, but I thought that Korean waiter was going to p.i.s.s his pants.”
I brought in the champagne and four gla.s.ses. I handed the bottle to Don to open, and lined up the gla.s.ses on the coffee table. ”Let's all have one gla.s.sful for a birthday toast to Don before we start drinking seriously,” I said.
”I'll drink to that,” Hank said solemnly, and he drank half of his Chivas and soda.
Merita was standing over by the buffet. Don poured the champagne, and then he said, looking at me, ”Where's Merita's gla.s.s?”
”I'll get another one,” I said, snapping my fingers. As I went into the kitchen, I told Merita to sit down on the couch directly behind Don's chair.
After Don handed the filled gla.s.ses around, Eddie said, ”I want to be the first to wish Don a happy first birthday, but if anybody here wants to sing the happy birthday song, he's going to beat the s.h.i.+t out of me first!”
”And me,” Hank said.
”Happy birthday, baby,” I said to Don. We all drained our gla.s.ses, and Don blinked his eyes.
”Thanks,” Don said, bobbing his head, as he poured another gla.s.s of wine, ”this is a great party. It really is, and I appreciate it.”
I winked at Merita, and jerked my head. She put down her gla.s.s, which she had only sipped, and went into the kitchen. A moment later she brought in the apple snack cake. There was a single lighted candle in the middle. The cake sagged slightly at one end, but she had done a smooth, even job with the white icing, and it looked nice. Merita carried the cake over carefully, and held it low for Don to blow out the candle. We all applauded, and Merita took the cake over to the buffet.
I fixed a Chivas and soda for myself, checked to see that everyone else was all right, and then went to the bathroom, gesturing for Merita to follow me. I took the wrapped presents-- Eddie and Hank's presents to Don--out of the closet, where we had hidden them earlier, and placed them on my bed.
”Do you remember what I told you do?” I said to Merita.
She bobbed her head vigorously, and her long hair trembled as though wind blew through it.
”Okay. Then -smile-, and keep smiling. I don't want you to act as if you're doing Don a favor, for Christ's sake.”
I picked up a package, handed the other one to Merita, and she followed me out. Back in the living room, we put the packages on the table in front of Don. He was well-pleased with his presents. Hank had given him a beautiful all-leather traveling liquor case, with silver-plated bar accessories and two four-ounce silver drinking cups inside. Eddie had given him a Mark Cross pigskin briefcase. Don had always like leather, and we knew that he would like these gifts whether he ever used them or not. He was so pleased he kept saying ”Wow!” and ”Thanks!”
I gathered the paper wrappings, and folded them into small squares. Hank winked at me. Eddie, who wasn't in on the surprise, merely mixed himself a fresh drink without giving any outward indication that there was no present from me for Don to open.
I put the folded paper under my chair, freshened my drink, and said: ”Oh, yes, I almost forgot, Don, I've got a present for you myself.”
Don looked at me. Merita sat quickly on Don's lap, dangling her long legs over the arm of his chair, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the neck Her wild Afro hid his entire face from us.
Hank and I laughed, and Eddie grinned.
Don struggled slightly, and Menta sat up, still on his lap, smiling.
”I'm overwhelmed,” Don said, laughing a little. ”But you're kidding, of course?”
Merita got up, walked to the front door, swaying her high round a.s.s, turned, and took off her white jacket, slowly unb.u.t.toning it from the top as she smiled at Don. Her long-nippled conical b.r.e.a.s.t.s, defying gravity pointed upwards. She held her jacket in her right hand, and put her left hand on the doork.n.o.b.
”No joke, Don,” I said seriously. ”She's yours, man--but just for the night. Happy birthday, from me to you.”
”You aren't just kidding, then?” Don said.
”He isn't kidding, for Christ's sake,” Hank said. ”Go ahead.”
Don got up, grinning sheepishly. ”In that case, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes, I'll be back after awhile. Don't take off anything else,” he said to Merita, ”I like to unwrap my own presents.”
”I'll get you a fresh bottle of champagne,” I said. When I returned from the kitchen with an unopened bottle, Don had two wine gla.s.ses in his right hand, and was handing his apartment key to Merita with his left. I gave Don the bottle, and they left, without closing my door, to cross the hallway to Eddie's apartment.