Chapter 13
My whole life has been an internal battle of forcing myself to go out into the world rather than sink into an introverted lifestyle.
It seems like every time I go outside my house, one of my septuagenarian neighbors tries to use me for entertainment purposes.
I’ve had to get up earlier to go for runs to account for mingling time when I return.
Holly mostly wants to talk shit about people in the neighborhood, which I can get down with.
She told me that being a sponsor in A.A.
gave her the superpower to sit silently while people divulge all of their secrets.
Last night, I went outside to breathe some fresh air after a long day at the home office. I was outside for less than twenty seconds, and Holly had run down her porch steps and speed-walked over to my driveway, whisper-yelling my name.
“Cassieeeee! You will not believe what I learned today while you were at work.” She came to a stop, way too close to me, definitely in my personal space bubble. I took one casual step backward and mentally prepared myself for what horrifying fact I was going to learn about a neighbor.
“You have my attention. I’m a nervous but willing participant.”
“You know the Ericksons, next door to us?”
“I haven’t ever talked to them, but I know that there are people who live in the house on the other side of you.”
“Good enough. So, Sheila and Jay. They are retired, of course, and there have been rumors going around the block that they might be engaging in extracurricular activities with other married couples. There are always different cars over there, and often overnight. The first thing that tipped off Toni, from across the street, was seeing the owner of the local gentleman’s club and a male partner walking up to their house.
“I don’t think that just because someone owns a strip club, they are automatically a swinger,” I replied.
“Well, I didn’t either. But Elma, at the grocery store, goes to the same church as they do.
They have reportedly been pretty standoffish during fellowship, except for with one couple who have also been seen having overnight stays at their house.
I don’t know them, but their names are Nancy and Gary. ”
“Okay. You got me on the sleepovers being a strange activity for people of their age.”
“That’s what we were saying. So now, the church has been working on its directory.
Elma is good friends with Rose, who has been collecting pictures for the directory.
The congregation was supposed to send family pictures to Rose, who is working with the printer.
Well, yesterday, she was at the church office working on it.
And a picture came through. You will not believe what it was. ”
“What was it?” I asked, genuinely curious how adult sleepovers and church directory pictures are related, but I am trusting her process. Sometimes you have to run a mile to get a block, as they say.
“It was a very close-up picture of an unknown man’s whopper.”
“And a whopper is?”
“Geez, Cassie. A dick. It was a dick pic.”
“Oh, my God!” I shouted back at her. “Poor…Elma?”
“Rose is the one who got the picture. Elma works at the grocery store. Why would she get the picture?”
“I don’t know why anyone in this story is receiving a dick pic.”
“So, Rose gets the picture. She has no idea what number it came from, and obviously is not going to respond to whatever creep sent her this picture. But then, curiosity got the best of her, and she looked in the last church directory for the number. And guess whose number and probably penis it belongs to? Jay Erickson.”
“Ew. That’s an old wiener to be getting via text.”
Holly planted her hands on her hips and gave a dirty look. “I’ll have you know that they are nearly ten years younger than we are, and I would still be pleased to get a solicited picture of my lover’s genitals. Stop being so ageist.”
Hands up in the air, I replied, “Sorry, continue.”
“Now, Rose has a real pickle on her hands.” We looked at each other and burst into laughter.
“She has no idea if he meant to send this to her, but Rose is a happily married woman and not interested in other members’ members, if you know what I mean.
So, the next day, she gets another text, and it’s a family picture from Nancy, the church friend of the Ericksons.
She didn’t have Nancy’s number in her phone either, but noticed that her number is exactly the same except for the very last digit. ”
“So, we think Jay was sending Nancy a dick pic and typed her number wrong?”
“YES! Well, Nancy and Jay must have talked in person and realized that she never received the picture he sent her. The next day, Rose gets another text from Jay, but this time, it’s a family picture. She took a screenshot and sent it to Elma. Elma sent it to me.”
Holly pulls out her phone and opens her gallery. What she shows me is a half-erect old-man penis. It doesn’t have his face in the picture, but it feels legitimate.
“OH, MY GOD, Holly. I didn’t need you to show me the picture. I believed you.”
“This is a you jump, I jump situation, dear. So, Jay knows that he sent the penis photograph to Rose at the church. Rose is fretting and about to switch to that non-denominational church at the edge of town. Her plan was to avoid the Ericksons on Sunday and skip the fellowship afterward. So, of course, the Ericksons can’t have her gossiping around town, especially with her connections at the grocery store, so they confronted her before the service,” Holly explained.
“What did they say? How awkward for Rose.”
“They cornered her in the church office and explained that they have been spending time together and they have an “open friendship.” Jay doesn’t want Rose to think any less of her, and that everyone is aware and okay with it. Sheila says she is fine with it and would appreciate her discretion.”
“So they are swingers? Is that what an ‘open friendship’ is?”
Holly shrugged. “I guess. I’ve been out of the game too long to know what wild behavior people are getting up to these days. I’m no prude in the bedroom, but we do keep it monogamous.”
“So Rose told Elma, and Elma told you? So much for discretion.”
“I know, but Rose was just beside herself. Normally, she would talk with the pastor about her personal struggles because of pastor/congregant confidentiality, but of course, she didn’t want him to know what was going on. Instead, she confided in Elma and swore her to secrecy.”
Seems we have an intense game of telephone with everyone being sworn to secrecy, and then they tell someone else, who swears to keep it a secret.
This is how everyone in small towns knows when you shit your pants.
This is why I don’t say anything about my personal life—if I had one—to anyone except Cora.
She doesn’t care enough about anything I say to pass it on to anyone else, and she also has her own problems to worry about.
Holly continued, “Anyway, Elma told me because I'm a steel trap, and she was feeling quite scandalized and needed to tell someone. I'm only telling you so you know not to go over to the Ericksons’ by yourself because you could get caught up in their sex games.”
“I feel like I should get to tell one person since everyone else got to tell one person. Or more.”
Holly groaned and said, “Fine, you can tell your sister, but I have a reputation to uphold for being good at secrets. Don’t screw me over.”
“You are not good at secrets. You tell me everything your sponsees tell you.”
Holly scoffed. “Yes, but I always make sure to just tell you because you don’t talk to anyone besides Emilia and me.
And Emilia doesn’t care about anyone but herself, so she’s not telling anyone.
It’s less about how many people you tell, but about the kind of people you tell.
I don’t tell Ron shit because he will go out for coffee and tell all the men he meets there. Those old men gossip more than anyone.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I replied.
“Oh, believe you me! I went and sat behind them once so I could listen in, and I learned more than I wanted to know.”
“Didn’t they notice you eavesdropping?”
“I wore a disguise. Ron knew it was me, but he came home and told me everything anyway.”
“You should write a tell-all book, exposing everyone in this town,” I suggested.
“No way, little lady, my lips are sealed.”
I haven’t heard from Justin in several months.
We really haven’t met up since I moved out of the downtown area.
I wasn’t going to drive all the way to his place for what he has to offer, and he was stuck at home with no working vehicle.
There was no falling out, just fizzling out.
No drama, no emotions, no yearning. It was perfect.
Imagine my surprise when he texted me completely out of the blue.
Justin Thompson AKA Hottie From Mexico: Cassie Franklin?
Me: Justin Thompson?
It suddenly occurs to me that he has the last name as Rod and Holly. There is no way that they could be related, right? I can’t have him out here for a visit because Holly would clock that immediately, and she hasn’t shown herself to be a very discreet confidant lately.
Me: Are you related to Rod and Holly Thompson?
Justin Thompson AKA Hottie From Mexico: I doubt it. It’s a pretty common last name, and I don’t have any family in the area. Who are they?
Me: My neighbors. You’re right. Totally common last name, but I have been deeply immersed in their personal lives recently, so it popped into my head.
Justin Thompson AKA Hottie From Mexico: Wow, you’re really out there in the burbs mingling with the neighbors?
Me: It feels like more of a hostage situation.
Justin Thompson AKA Hottie From Mexico: Haha. Guess what?
Me: What?
Justin Thompson AKA Hottie From Mexico: I'm a grown-up and have a working vehicle. I haven’t seen you in forever, and I was thinking I should come check out your new house. You're my only friend who has their life together enough to buy a house. Very impressive.