They began a slow, plodding march to the door.  Petronella walked with her back arched, her legs splayed far apart and her skirt billowing out in front of her where Amy’s head bobbed up and down with each step.  Jordan and Jeremy held on to Petronella’s elbows steadying her.

“Make way,” Jeremy said.  “She’s having her baby.”

“Good cover,” Jordan whispered.  She said louder, “Watch out.  Pregnant lady coming through.”

More crashing sounded behind them as Chad got up and pinged off tables and diners like a pinball.

The waitress opened the front door for them.  “Oh, I am so sorry about this.  Please do come back when we don’t have a Zombie on the premises,” she said.

Amy laughed from under the skirt.  Petronella thunked Amy on the head.

The waitress looked at Petronella’s baby bump.  “Did your baby just laugh?”

Petronella smiled and said, “My baby is very advanced.”

At that moment, Petronella’s white Mercedes skidded to a stop right in front of them.  Irma smiled from behind the wheel.  Jeremy opened the back door and Amy and Petronella jumped inside.  No sooner had Petronella pulled her door shut than Irma mashed her foot to the gas and the car squealed out of the parking lot.

Jordan and Jeremy were left staring after the disappearing car.

After a heart-thudding turn onto the main road, Amy poked her head out from under Petronella’s skirt.  She crawled into the seat and peered out the back window.  “But what about the others?” she said.

“No worries.”  Irma drove with one hand and dialed a cell phone with the other.  After a moment, Irma said, “Agent Jordan, this is Black Bishop and Ice Queen.  We have your package.”

After a brief pause, Irma said, “Black Bishop will take care of package.  Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to lead Madman in Dress on wild chase of goose.”

Another pause then, “Black Bishop signing off.  Over and out.”

Amy stared wide-eyed at Irma.  “Who are you?”

Irma winked at Amy in the rearview mirror.  “Irma is Black Bishop, a sleeper agent for Mother Russia.  Do not worry.  You are in good hands.”

Petronella stared adoringly at Irma.  She whispered to Amy out the side of her mouth, “Isn’t she thrilling?”


Martini Time

Amy sat in a chaise lounge with a wet towel draped over her forehead.  She felt damaged, seriously damaged – like she might need some therapy time damaged.

“I am so sorry that happened to you,” Jordan said as Amy’s head screamed in pain.  “No one should ever be subjected to that.  The CIA should be informed of that torture method.  It could crack any terrorist inside of thirty minutes.”

They were out in the backyard of Jordan’s house.  Jordan had made Amy sit in the lawn furniture outside rather than risk letting her see the inside of the unfinished house.

After being rescued from P.C.’s, Petronella had taken Amy to her house and locked her in the study.  She then proceeded to read aloud every poem she had ever written.  Irma was overjoyed.  Amy, not so much.  Three hours later, Irma delivered Amy back to Jordan’s house.

Amy, her thirst for poetry forever sated, vowed to never go near another poem.  Dr. Seuss included.

“Why didn’t you just grab the key and run?” Edison said, bringing Amy a lemon-lime martini.  Amy had never had a martini.  She’d never had the need for a stiff drink until now.  Of course, she’d never been locked in a room with an egomaniacal poet either.

Amy pulled the cold compress from her forehead, sipped her martini, and put the cold compress back on her head.  “Because Petronella had put the key in her underpants for safekeeping.  You also might be interested to know, her panties have kittens and puppies on them.  I spent some time under her skirt, remember,” Amy said.

“When did Petronella start wearing skirts?” Edison said.

“A better question is:  when did she start wearing underwear,” Jordan said.

“Let me explain because I know all about it,” Amy said, sitting up and taking another sip of the martini.  It was starting to help.  “She said skirts address her more feminine nature and she is practicing wearing them so she can whip them off during the performance to reveal her vinyl pant suit.”

Edison and Jordan let that soak in.

“And,” Amy continued, “The puppies and kittens remind her that it’s okay to be weak and vulnerable.  It’s all a part of the cycle of life.  Or something like that.”

“Were her teeth still blue?” Edison asked.

“They did have a bluish tinge to them, now that you mention it,” Amy said with an involuntary shiver.

Jordan took a sip of Amy’s martini.  She didn’t normally drink martinis, but it was dawning on her that Amy was at her house, well, sitting in the backyard, and this wasn’t how she’d imagined Amy seeing her house for the first time.  She’d wanted the house to be finished and ready to showcase, not in this state of disrepair.  She was afraid that Amy would equate the chaos of the house with the inside of Jordan.  She wouldn’t be far off either, Jordan mused as she drained the martini.

“Edison, maybe you should make Amy another martini,” Jordan said handing over the empty glass.

“I’ll make you one, too.”

“I don’t drink martinis,” Jordan said.

“Okaaaaay,” Edison said, tromping back up to the house.

Jordan’s stomach rumbled.  She was starving and had to eat soon.  Maybe she could fix Amy dinner and light some candles and Amy wouldn’t be able to see what the house looked like in the candlelight.  It might even be romantic.

Edison returned with two martinis.  She handed them both to Amy.  “Just in case you need another one.”  She cocked her head in Jordan’s direction.

“Thank you.  I’m feeling a little better.  I think the vodka is making the buzzing noise in my head go away,” Amy said.

Edison sat in a nearby lawn chair.  Jordan looked at Edison and tried to communicate something with her eyes.  Edison shook her head like she didn’t understand.  Jordan used her head to gesture toward the house.  Edison raised her eyebrows in a questioning expression.  Amy watched the entire exchange.

“What are you two doing?” Amy asked.

Jordan stuttered, “Uh… Oh, Edison, aren’t you going to be late?”

“Late?”  Edison said.  “For what?”

“You know… that thing.”

“Thing?”

“Yes, that thing,” Jordan said forcefully.  “That thing you do every week at this exact same time.”

Finally, it dawned on Edison that Jordan wanted her to leave. “Oh!  That thing.”  Edison rose to her feet.  “I better hurry.  Bye, Amy.”

“Are you sure you have to rush off?” Amy said.

“Well,” Edison wavered, starting to sit back down.  “I could maybe stay for…”

Jordan quickly interrupted, “No, you can’t stay, you have to go.  You know how they get when you’re late.”

Edison hopped back up.  “Right.  They get really…”

“Mad,” Jordan filled in.

“Sad,” Edison said at the same time.

“I mean sad,” Jordan said.

“Mad,” Edison said at the same time.  “Sad and mad.”  As an afterthought, she threw in, “And glad.”

“Please don’t rhyme anymore.  I’ve had all the rhyming I can take for one day,” Amy said while massaging her temples.

Edison laughed nervously and took several steps backwards.  “So, goodbye!”  She turned and trotted off toward the house, leaving Jordan and Amy alone.

Jordan chuckled and said, “Edison is brilliant, but sometimes a little dense.”

“You really care for her, though,” Amy said.  “And she cares for you.”

“Yeah,” Jordan said.  “I’m pretty lucky to have her for a friend.”

“Jeremy and Isabel are the closest friends I’ve ever had.  Med school was so competitive that it was dangerous to get too close to anybody.”  She sipped her martini.

“How about at work?” Jordan said.  She sipped Amy’s other martini.

“We’re all friendly, but not friends, you know?  There’s still some climbing to do if you want to be head of a department or position yourself to get into a cushy clinic.  So people don’t let each other get too close.”

“Are you still climbing?”  Jordan wasn’t sure how Amy felt about her career.  What if having a girlfriend jeopardized her plans?

Amy responded, “The only other place I would consider working is Urgent Care.  I like hands-on.  I’m not interested in becoming the next director of Human Services and Surgery.  I leave that to people like Chad.  Even Jeremy just wants to help people.  That’s why we can be friends.  He wants to eventually go overseas and do that Third World thing.  I couldn’t take the food.”

Jordan’s smile widened.  She leaned in and kissed Amy lightly on the lips.  “So having a girlfriend isn’t going to mess up your life plan?”

“No, silly.”

Jordan made her monumental decision.  If Amy was willing to share her life with Jordan then a remodeled house that was stuck in the nightmare stage shouldn’t stop her.  “Would you like to come inside?  If you promise to ignore the shambles of remodeling, I promise to not blindfold you.  I can make us something to eat.”

At the mention of eating, Amy’s stomach growled loudly.  She giggled.  “I think that was a definite yes.”

“Okay,” Jordan said, draining the last of the martini.  “Just remember the house is a work in progress.”

“Aren’t we all,” Amy said.


Pizza Sauce

Once inside the house Amy was truly awed.  The grand central staircase, albeit, in need of refinishing, spoke of women in long, flowing dresses descending to be embraced in their lovers’ arms only to be carried back up the stairs in a fit of unbridled passion.  The stained glass windows on the first landing were still intact and the light that filtered through made the front hall look enchanting.

“This is the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen,” Amy said reverently.

“That’s the living room,” Jordan said and pointed in its general direction.  “Dining room is over there,” she pointed again.  “The second floor has four bedrooms.  One is Irma’s unless she’s moved into Petronella’s already.  And the other is Edison’s.  Two unoccupied.  The third floor is Edison’s laboratory and we won’t talk about that and the attic is my studio with a bed.  Someday, I’ll have a master suite.”

“I’m only going to let you get away with cutting the tour short because I’m starving,” Amy said.

“The kitchen is this way,” Jordan said.

The once grand kitchen looked like a post-earthquake scene from a 1970’s disaster movie.  Amy half-expected Charlton Heston to jump out of the pantry, with a torn and blood splattered shirt, and yell, “Ladies first!” while tossing them out of the burning building.

Amy looked at the bright side.  “It’s like starting out with a clean slate.  This kitchen can become anything you desire.”

Jordan liked Amy’s optimism.  “The stove still functions.  We just have to keep to simple fare.  I thought we’d have pizza.  Of course, pizza isn't the only thing I can cook, you know," Jordan said, opening a box and taking out a frozen pepperoni pizza.

 Amy was amazed that Jordan could find her way to the stove much less use it.  The cabinets were on the floor, the counters were nothing but makeshift plywood on sawhorses and the stove was shoehorned half inside the pantry, making fully opening its door an impossibility.  No wonder she was only cooking a pizza, it was the only thing she could slide in the oven.  And even to accomplish that she had to hold the pizza vertically and insert it like a coin into a vending machine.

"Oh?" Amy said. "Are you a good cook?  Because I have to be honest, I’m horrible.  I even burn Ramen noodles."

"Frozen pizza is my specialty," Jordan said, wiping her hands on a dishrag.  "But hot dogs are my culinary masterpiece."

Amy laughed.

Jordan said with an ultra-solemn expression, "I'm serious, why are you laughing?  I can make hot dogs dozens of ways.  Boiled, baked, fried, charred, sliced, diced, on a stick, deep-fried, battered…”

"Okay, okay, I get the picture."

"I'm like the Forrest Gump of hot dogs."

Amy said, "I wasn't laughing at your culinary skills.  I’m laughing at your nose."

"My nose?"

Amy hooked one finger into the collar of Jordan's shirt and tugged her closer.  "Uh huh.  You have a tiny bit of pizza sauce on the end of your nose."

"Are you flirting with me?" Jordan said, tugging Amy’s hips closer to her own.

"No," Amy said.  "This is flirting with you."  She stood on her toes and lightly kissed Jordan.  The kiss heated up and Jordan pressed into Amy, backing her into the fridge, which was sitting in the middle of the floor.