THBBM - Richard and Elizabeth

Richard and Elizabeth
A dish associative of Ionic poets and scribes: white rice stained in a broth of black ink.
5-22

Quickly, almost as if by reflex, Christopher passed the thick flesh of his thumb over the edges of the jewel cases in his CD collection. The color of the labeling on the individual spines was enough to indicate to him what each disc was, and what songs were inside.
: Strictly alphabetized, the collection swallowed an entire wall of the living room, drawing a sharp contrast with the mahogany china cabinet and the furniture that was arranged around the television.
: Having this collection on display was almost as important to Chris as having them neatly ordered. To look at Chris' CD collection was, in a way, to see inside of him. From the youthful bounce of the British new wave and ska bands, to the more selections by classic jazz and folk artists, you could almost tell his whole life story by following the paths within his music collection.
: He traced his finger across the edge of one case, hesitating a bit.
"Jo?" he called.: It took two more attempts, each louder than its predecessor before his wife poked her head out from the kitchen.
"What.. What is it!?": Her tone was sharp, and a little annoyed. She looked him over with a questioning look; her head cocked to one side while her fingers absently inserted and fastened a silver hoop earring. He knew this look. She was in the middle of getting ready for the evening, flustered for time.
: Suddenly his question felt overwhelmingly unimportant.
: She straightened her head and brushed her fingers through her hair. "What's the matter?"
"It.. It's nothing." He smiled, feeling a bit ashamed for interrupting her preparations with this sort of matter. "You called me out for something, what was it?": As if he'd only come to realize the triviality of the issue -- he was doing his best to back out of the conversation, but in doing so, Chris had somehow managed to drag Jo into the matter even deeper. The more he attempted to brush it off, the more he seemed to fluster her. She became insistent that he go ahead and ask her whatever question he had on his mind, even though it was clear that she wanted to return to working on her outfit.
: The discussion was straying into familiar territory -- an exchange back and forth about not assuming what the other person might or might not consider important to talk about. If it continued, they risked an argument.
: Not wanting to darken the mood before the guests arrived, Chris surrendered the question.
"...I was just wondering what you think would be better background music, Elvis Costello and Portishead, or Dexter Gordon and Chet Baker?": She fiddled with the collar on her blouse, "Does it matter?"
: Part of him wanted to stammer out, "Does it matter!? Does it.. Well of course it matters!" These sorts of things were important to him, important to the evening. It was just a little thing, sure... but it was his little thing.
: He sighed, revealing a little of his disappointment at her reply. "Well, Shawn and Mary are your friends.. I wanted to play something that they would appreciate." He pulled two CD's from the shelf. "Do you know if they like jazz?"
"I'm sure they'll like whatever you choose." She smiled, "You have great taste in music.": She wasn't getting it. He wanted her help. Her involvement. He knew she was busy getting ready, and he knew that the process took time, but he needed her time anyway. Maybe subconsciously, he was interrrupting her to see if she would take time away from all these preparations to consider his little dilemma. To see if she would set aside everything, even if just for a second, to share in this thing that he considered so important.
: When it came right down to it, these dinner parties were always a little tense, especially when the guests of honor were people he didn't know. It wasn't her intention, but it made him feel like he was on display for the new visitors to see, like he was a part of the decor.
: He already knew that he was going with the Elvis Costello. He just wanted her to be there with him.
: She smiled at him, as if she had suddenly read into his discomfort. "I need to finish getting ready, ok?"
: He smiled back. "Sure, it's cool."
: She turned on her heel and headed back to the bedroom through the kitchen. He picked two more discs from the shelf, and moved towards the stereo.
: The phone rang.
: "Get that, will you?" She called from somewhere in the depths of the house.
: Jo emerged a few minutes later, dressed in a completely different outfit than she had been wearing before. Her hair was combed into a different shape, and she seemed a little taller somehow. The entirety of the change caught him off guard, and his stare lingered a moment more than it probably should have.
: "What?" she said, looking down at herself, as if searching for a tear or a stain. "Is something wrong?" There was something slightly wounded in her eyes, as if his gaze had seemed accusing, or dismissive of her new look.
: In truth, he liked this outfit better than the dress she was wearing before - the blouse, pants, and dressy shoes seemed more feminine; more alluring and less formal than what she had had been wearing a moment ago.
"You don't like it?" She asked. "No, no - you look great! It's just... different." "Well, I was going to wear the print dress, but I wanted to put that silver belt with it so I could wear those black shoes I love so much, but when I put the belt on it made my hips look big."
: He shot her a look of disagreement. She had a fantastic figure, despite her own tendency to complain about it.
: She noticed the look, but continued to defend her position "Well, it did. And besides, the shoes didn't look good with the dress. I thought they would compliment it, but when I put them on I didn't like the way it made me look."
: Chris tuned her out a bit as she continued, listening to the music overhead. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear what she was saying so much as he felt like he had gotten the main point of it already: Outfit 1 didn't work, so I switched to Outfit 2. He didn't understand many of the finer details after that, so he turned his attention elsewhere.
: A moment later he realized that she was asking him a question.
"I said, who was on the phone?" "Oh, it was Shawn. They got held up a little, and they didn't want us to worry.": She seemed worried. "Was something wrong?"
"I didn't ask." Chris shrugged, "He just said that they were going to be a little late." "I hope they don't cancel on us, I've been trying to get them over here for a while."
: She lifted her hair up in one hand, and indicated the two loose ends of a necklace to him.
: Fighting with the clasp, he reassured her. "I'm sure everything will be just fine."
: Once the necklace was attached properly, he let his hands slide to her shoulders. She put her hands on his, and leaned a cheek down on top of their grasp. After a moment, she turned and smiled into his eyes. He put his hands loosely around her hips, and gave her a quick kiss.
: The timer on the oven buzzed. The moment fizzled, and they headed to the kitchen. Reaching into the oven with hot pad mittens on his hands, he pulled out a steaming casserole dish. He turned to set it on the counter while she stepped in behind him and absently ran a spoon through the sauce warming on the stovetop. "How late did they say they were going to be? I'm getting hungry."
: He flashed her a devilish smile, which she returned, raising her eyebrows a little. Quick thoughts of pursuing this feeling more flashed through his mind. Memories of rushed, fumbling encounters that they had had at other dinner parties: that one time at Tom's when they had only been married a few weeks.
: The guests were going to be late. There was enough time...
: "Whoa, there" she said, pushing his embrace back a little. "Down boy, save a little for after the meal." He advanced again, giving a knowing grin that he hoped would melt the ice a bit. They pulled close, and exchanged a deep kiss. He pushed against her a bit, so she could feel how serious he was. Her lipstick was freshly applied and thick, and as he turned his head a little it began to slide like a car on icy snow.
: She disengaged, flustered. Her breath was quick, the look in her eyes was promising; but she was pulling back, putting on the brakes. His desire wanted to make another push, but he knew what she was getting at. The guests would be arriving soon enough.
: He wanted to make some sort of flirty statement to emphasize the fact that this wasn't something he wanted to leave unfinished, but she was quietly giggling at him. At first this bothered him, because it seemed that she had discarded the mood much faster than he had hoped she would, but once she grabbed a paper towel and began wiping lipstick from his cheek he realized what had brought on the change.
: Jo headed to the bathroom to work on her makeup again. He watched her as she walked out.
: This, Chris thought, was marriage. One moment they were on the edge of fighting, the next - steps away from passion. Somehow they never quite made it to either extreme enough for their own good. But they survived, and loved each other in spite of it.
: The phone rang again. Jo called from the bedroom, "I got it!"
: Chris was straining the pasta in a colander as Jo walked back in the kitchen, a cordless phone wedged between her cheek and shoulder. Her conversations were filled with quick laughter, and waving motions of her free hand. She spoke loudly into the phone, as if the person on the other end was miles and miles away.
"OK so you're leaving now, which means you'll be here in what, fifteen, twenty minutes? You know the way, right? You do? Did you write it down? Good, because.. Oh wait, that's the phone beeping. Can you hold on a second? OK.. just a minute. ... Hello?"
: As she began the next conversation she switched the phone to her other ear. Chris wondered if she realized that she always did this. It was probably just a reflex. He dashed olive oil in with the ziti, and quickly tossed the mixture inside the colander as Jo continued talking.
"Beth baby! Haaay! You guys coming over? Great! Shawn and Mary should be here in about fifteen twenty minutes. Mary is a girl I work with, really sweet. I know you'll just love her. What's that? ...Oh, well he'd better!"
: She went into the other room; laughing and talking a single sound as Chris poured the noodles into a serving bowl, and then checkered the sauce over them.
: She returned to the kitchen, setting the cordless on the counter. "That was Beth on her cel phone. They should be here any minute. Richard's bringing the wine."
: "Of course he is," Chris chuckled. Richard's brother had a vineyard just outside of Napa, a small place that lurked in the shadows of the giant fields that belonged to the rich and famous. Ever since they had first met, that fateful evening snowed in at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago, that nigtht when 14 inches of snow forced them all to sleep on cots while waiting for the winds to calm, Richard had boasted about Tony's vineyards.
: Over the years, as conversations of cold weather convienence turned into bonds of trust and friendship, Richard always brought a new bottle of his brother's special stock with each visit. At times he even tried to push Chris into investing. The wine was all right, but Chris' father had once told him that it never paid to do business with friends. Too much risk of losing things you value, no matter how well the market was doing.
: Chris and Jo worked together to place the food on the table, each fussing over the placement of forks and napkins. A car pulled into the diveway, flashing light through the living room window. Chris moved to the kitchen to finish the preparations, and Jo headed towards the door, straightening her blouse as she walked.
: Richard and Elizabeth, attractive and vibrant, rushed into the room like an oncoming wave while Jo swung the door back. Even though there were only four people, the ensuing noise made it sound like a large convention had started in the Foyer. Jo complimenting Beth's outfit, Richard handing Chris a dark green bottle and boasting over the vintage.
: Somewhere between their individual conversations, Beth and Chris exchanged a lengthy glance.
"I hope you two brought your appetites, Chris really out-did himself this time." Jo boasted. "We're not too early, are we?" Beth asked. "Did we miss your other friends?" "No," Jo smiled. "They're running a little late. Should be here any moment. C'mon, let me fix you a drink." "Now you're talking," Richard smiled.
: A moment later, cocktail glasses in hand, they sat on the couches in the living room. The wine sat in a silver bucket of ice, a gift Richard had given along with several choice bottles last Christmas.
"Richard, I love the long hair" Jo smiled. "Oh this?" He smiled, "Yeah, I thought I would give it a try. See if it brought me any different business." "Women love that rock and roll look." Jo giggled. "That we do," Beth said, giving her husbands leg a squeeze. "That we do." "Maybe you should let yours grow out a bit, buddy. Might look good on you." Richard said, taking a sip. "I don't know - I think that's more your thing. I mean, isn't it a hassle? Summertime's so hot and all." "Yeah, but you get used to it." Richard said, pulling a length of his wavy blond hair for everyone to see. "Kinda makes me feel younger to have my hair like this. Takes me back to my wild school days." Chris laughed, "What, the job isn't invigorating enough?" Jo swatted him lightly on the knee. Richard rolled his eyes. "You come try it for a week and see how young you feel." "Don't tempt him," Jo smiled. "He's already booked."
: Beth glanced at Chris again, but remained silent.
: The conversation trailed to discussions of Chris' trials in the ever-changing game of entertainment law, a subject that Chris found boring to tell about, but one that always seemed to fascinate dinner guests. His cases bore star names, but his clients had studio titles. Truth be told, he was nothing more than a scavenger in the Hollywood food chain, making a good living off the business side of celebrity worship.
: The doorbell rang, breaking the spell.
: Everyone rose as Chris headed to answer the door.
: Shawn and Mary Aston stood uneasily in the doorway, the look on their faces difficult to read. Chris and Jo's house was expensive looking, but modest considering the neighborhood they worked in. Jo's work in the community brought her into contact with several people who seemed intimidated by the wealth that they assumed came such affluent surroundings. Doing his best to calm their nervousness, Chris reared back in mock surprise, "Trick or treaters, is it that time of year already?"
: Jo came in quickly, slapping Chris on the shoulder. "Ignore him."
: She shuttled them in from the doorway quickly, doing her best to remove their hesitation. Jo had a way with people, a knack for taking their own worries aside and making any situation seem like a gathering of lifelong friends, even when dealing with complete strangers. There was nervous laughter followed by handshakes. Shawn clutched tightly to a bottle of wine in a paper bag from a local liquor store.
: Moving into the living room, Jo made quick introductions. Mary embraced Beth, and shook Richard's hand. Shawn followed suit, but he was suddenly very quiet, and you could tell that he had been shaken by something. He looked nervously at his wife, who didn't register his change in mood.
"Something smells fantastic, did we miss the meal?" Mary asked, diverting attention away from her husband. "Not at all, we were waiting for you." Chris smiled. "Really? Oh, I'm sorry we made everyone wait" "No trouble at all" Richard smiled. He turned to Shawn, who looked like he had seen a ghost, and put an arm around his shoulder. "I see you brought some spirits with you, friend... let me ask you something. When's the last time you had an authentic glass of Napa Valley chardonnay?"
: Talking nonstop, he moved Shawn towards the dining room, and the bottle he had brought.
: There was an uneasy pause.
: Mary sensed the hesitation, and blurted out an apology, "I'm sorry about Shawn, he's.. he's shy when it comes to new people. He'll warm up to everyone once the dinner is served."
: Chis shot a look at Jo. She shrugged, a little guilty.
: He smiled at Mary. "Would you excuse us a minute?" She nodded. "Jo, can you come into the kitchen and help me out a second?" It sounded so horribly staged, like a line out of a daytime soap opera...
: Beth seemed to be enjoying the predicament, but she came to the rescue by taking Mary's arm. "Come on, let's find a seat."
: Once behind the shuttered doors of the kitchen, Jo couldn't help but let out a little laugh.
"You didn't tell them... " Chris accused. "Christ... How could you not tell them?"
: Jo held her palm over her mouth, her eyes wide with a look somewhere between embarassment and hysterical laughter.
"It's not funny, Jo..." "Well come on now, it's not the sort of thing you can bring up in normal conversation." "All I'm saying is that we could have invited them on separate nights, avoided this all together." "It's a Dinner Party, Chris. The more the merrier!" "You get a kick out of this, don't you?" "Now come on, don't be mad at me.": She was barely able to contain herself. Unfortunatley, in a small was it was funny, and Chris was having just as difficult a time being the serious one as Jo was having not erupting into a fit of laughter.
"I'm sorry," she said through forced breaths, wiping tears from her eyes. "I know, I know.. I'm sorry, It's just.." She began to laugh as she finished the sentence, barely getting the words out, "Did you see his face?!"
: Chris put his hands on his hips and tried to look stern, but it was no use, and he had to let out a chuckle of his own. She came close and fell into his arms, laughing into his shoulder.
"Shhhh, They're gonna hear you!" He hissed.
: Suddenly the shuddered doors began to open. Jo gasped, sure they were caught.
: Beth slipped inside the kitchen, a sly look on her face. "Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"
: Jo shook her head, still wearing that pained look of almost laughter, and she moved from Chris' arms into Beth's. Beth shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You'd better get back in there before Richard takes your friends wallet away from him and invests their life savings in Tony's vineyard."
: Crossing his arms, Chris tried again to scold his wife. "Right now he's so embarrased he'd probably sell Richard his first born if he thought it would get him out of here."
: Jo gave a feigned look of guilt. "How was I supposed to know?"
: "Just see what you can do," Beth smiled, speaking again in a sarcastic falsetto. "Poor Mary simply can't understand what's gotten into her husband."
: Jo moved towards the door. "I'm sorry for this Beth, I hope I didn't embarass you."
: Beth smiled. "No shame in my game, girl."
: Jo moved out into the living room. Chris wondered if he should try to leave the kitchen as well.
: Beth looked at him with a smile. "Looks like someone was cooking in the kitchen before we got here."
: He smiled back, not sure what she meant. She stepped up closer to him, leaning into his space with an outstretched hand. He felt sure he should rear back, gracefully retreat the situation.
: But he didn't.
: Her hand came to rest on his cheek, and she gave a little rub. "Whoever was trying to cover her tracks didn't get all the lipstick off the crime scene." She smiled again, examining her finger before showing it to him. "Anyone I know?"
: He rubbed his cheek absently, not knowing if he was helping remove the stain or not. "I'm sorry for all of this, I thought she was going to tell them."
"Comes with the territory" She said, not as embarrased as he thought she should be. "We get some the same reactions at restaraunts and stuff."
"That doesn't make it fair." Chris offered, trying to be sympathetic.
She laughed at him. "We're not lepers, honey."
"Yeah, but still..."
"I'm not in these films so people can't see me, and neither is Richard. We love each other, we're comfortable with what we do. It's all very natural"
: She gave him a look that he couldn't help but shut up for.
"I'm not ashamed, and you shouldn't be either."
: She was very close now.
What he was feeling wasn't shame, exactly.
: They sat at the dinner table, plates half-eaten. Richard had pulled his hair into a ponytail, and had taken on the task of trying to bring Shawn out of his shell. He asked him about wine, sports, the weather, music, where he worked, how he liked it, where his family was from, anything he could think of short of the topic that almost everyone in the room knew was causing the tension.
: Shawn sat frozen, picking at his food like it was going to jump up and bite him back.
: Mary seemed embarrased at her husband's behavior, and did her best to answer all of Richards's questions. Occasionally she would egg him into answering, to which he would respond with "yes or no" sounding grunts.
: Bored with the game, Richard began to hit on Mary.
: If he had been frozen in fear over what he knew about Richard and Elizabeth (and what knowing that said about him) before, he was a very different man now that Shawn, the porn star was complimenting his wives hair, and asking if she worked out to get that body. He sat up straighter, and began to glare a bit at Mary, who was not sure how to take the sudden attention from the handsome man across the table, especially with his wife sitting right next to him.
: Flustered, Mary tried to deflect Richard's advances with a question.
"So, Beth... what do you do for a living?": Shawn coughed on cue, nearly dropping his fork in the process.
: Beth dabbed her napkin to her lips very slowly. Chris felt Richard nudge him in the arm, drawing his attention to Shawn, who had turned a slight shade of blue.
: Chris shot a look at Jo, who seemed frozen in space.
: There was no doubt that Beth would tell, no doubt that Mary would be duly shocked, and no doubt she could put two and two together and realize what was behind her husband's strange behaviour.
: There was no way this was going to end cleanly, unless he figured something out in a hurry. Not seeing any other options -- Chris made an awkward turn in his chair, and spilled his wineglass onto Mary's lap.
: As if a shot had gone off, the entire room burst into activity. Mary howled like she'd been kicked in the leg, Chris did his best to appear apologetic and offer a napkin while at the same time he attempted to see how the others had reacted to his pre-emtive strike.
: Jo was on her feet immediatley, hand to her mouth in shock. Before the last drop had falled from the glass she had Mary by the hand, and was leading her away to the bedroom, assumedly for a change of clothes and moral support. Richard couldn't help but laugh at the situation.
: Everything was happening too fast for Shawn, who just sat there, dumbfounded. Beth, however, was looking deep into Chris. And she was shaking her head in a way that told him she wasn't happy with the situation at all.
: Chris stood there, not sure what to say. Now that he had a moment or two to think on it, he wasn't sure what had just happened. Who was he protecting? Why had he chosen to rescue Shawn, a guy he didn't even really know, over two of his best friends?
: At first he had thought he was protecting Richard and Elizabeth. But something in the coldness of Beth's stare had let him know that wasn't the case. Why hadn't Jo said something to Mary? Why didn't she tell them?
: Richard caught his breath for a moment, and surveyed the damage. "Maybe we should go, huh Beth?"
"I don't see why we should, we haven't done anything wrong." She was clearly upset.
"Now honey," Richard said, "Don't be upset. It's just an awkward situation."
"No Rich, it's our so-called friends putting us in an awkward situation."
"Now Beth," Chris interjected, "That's not fair, I was just trying to..."
"Trying to what?" She snapped.

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