Read Online Dating Without Novocaine by Lisa Cach - Free Book Online

said.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œMs. DeFrang. But if she had to come here, she’d make it look like she was pleased to be invited.”
    â€œThen she has more grace than I do. Why did I let you talk me into this? Remind me?”
    â€œAh, come on. You need new experiences,” I said as we shoved our way into the theater and fought our way to our seats.
    â€œNo, I don’t.”
    â€œYou’ll have a great story to tell,” I said.
    â€œIf I survive.”
    â€œThere are dads with their kids here. It’s family fun!”
    â€œThey’ll all grow up to be murderers.”
    We sat down, and I tucked between my feet the paper bag with the costume I was going to deliver.
    â€œSo she wants you to copy the entire master suite?” Louise asked, going back to Ms. DeFrang.
    â€œThe entire thing, only in different fabrics that she’s ordering from her decorator. She and her husband have a house on Orcas Island, up in Puget Sound, with the same basic layout as the one in Camas. And she wants me to do the guest bedroom up there, too, that her mother-in-law uses.”
    â€œSo, what is it, dust ruffles and duvets?”
    â€œAnd about a dozen decorative pillows, and hangings for the beds. A lot of it is simple stuff, but the pillows are going to be a little tricky. They’ve got contrasting striped borders, piping that I have to make myself, mitred corners. They’re going to be a pain. And I have to order the pillow forms myself, from a wholesaler.”
    â€œBut that’s why you get the big bucks.”
    â€œOh, yeah, I’m rolling in it.”
    The announcer came out, a late middle-aged man witha belly and light brown hair in a pompadour, his skin craggy and mottled. He started his spiel, trying—vainly, I thought—to add drama to the lineup of local wrestlers.
    â€œThe Logger, straight from the backwoods where they eat owls for dinner,” he said, to a mix of cheers and boos from the crowd. “The Body Bag, and you know why he’s called that—”
    â€œHe sends them home in a bag!” a kid to our right yelled.
    â€œI can’t believe you talked me into this,” Louise said.
    â€œWe’ll just wait until Elroy has his match, then go down to the dressing room.” Elroy was my client, whose new spandex pants I had in the bag between my feet. I’d done costumes for a couple wrestlers down in Eugene when I’d worked at the alterations shop, and they’d passed my name along.
    There was something perverse about it, but I had a bit of a thing for wrestlers. Not these locals sorts so much, but the ones on the WWF had a way of catching my eye. Those greased-up, muscled bodies throwing each other around called to something primal within me.
    Not that I could see myself married to one of them. They were the toys of my imagination, and I was happy to keep them there, where their oiled locks wouldn’t stain my pillows. Although maybe just once…
    A round of cheers went up as the first wrestlers came out, one of them flanked by two women who looked as though they lived under a bar. The wrestlers were no more appealing, their bulk in their barrel chests coated with a layer of fat.
    â€œMy butt has better muscle tone than either of theirs,” Louise said. “Don’t these guys work out?”
    â€œThey always start the evening with the unknowns. The later guys will be a little more interesting.”
    â€œI can hardly wait.”
    Some of the young boys in the audience were getting excited by the match, shouting and booing, and there were some drunk college-age guys being obnoxious a few rows down. The rest of the house had a tired feel to it, as if seeing a porky guy in lace-up red boots being thrown onto a wrestling mat wasn’t fine entertainment.
    â€œI want to see some blood,” Louise said. “Blood!” she said in a half shout.
    The kid next to us heard her, and took up the cry.