"I think that would be grand," she replied in her best Kate Hepburn voice, then switched back into the concerned friend mode. "You wanna talk about it, Darce?"
I scrunched up my face and shook my head. "Nope."
"Well, then," she drawled, back in character. "Be a dear and get me another marty, would you?"
"But what would dear Pa-Pa think?" I said. She giggled, and offered me a ding-dong from the voluminous pocket of her robe.
I accepted the gift with a raised eyebrow and a grin, then got up and poured her another martini. I grabbed myself a beer from the fridge and settled back down on the couch to let Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart take my mind of things, if only for a little while.
It wasn't the first night I had spent on Greta's couch, and I doubted it would be the last.
I woke early, despite the late night, and after a look in the fridge, pulled out some eggs and bread, and set to fixing coffee.
Greta always timed her martini/Cary Grant extravaganzas to coincide with her days off, so I wasn't worried about waking her, but the smell of coffee quickly did its work and she emerged from the bedroom soon after the coffee finished brewing.
"Hello sunshine!" I greeted her with annoying cheerfulness and handed her a cup of coffee - cream, 3 spoons of sugar. I was disgusted when she responded with equal, but in her case honest, cheerfulness.
"Why, thank you, Darcy, and good morning to you, too." She accepted the cup with a tranquil smile and sipped happily.
I will always be amazed by the therapeutic power of Cary Grant, Bombay gin, jalapeсo stuffed olives and ding-dongs.
I had tried my own version once, with anime movies and sake, but woke up the next morning hung over, thinking my nose was too big and my hair too small. These were not quite the remedial benefits I was hoping for, so I never tried that again. Maybe it was the ding-dongs that were missing...
She didn't waste any time getting the conversation going.
"So. Little Kimmie's got a girlfriend who Mick Jagger wants to boff." She took another sip of coffee and looked over at me. "Honestly Darce, that's not really saying that much - I mean, it's not like the man is picky or anything."
I was thinking that perhaps Greta missed some of the finer points of last night's conversation, but held my tongue, wanting to see where she was going with this.
"Did Kim actually say it was her girlfriend?"
"Not in so many words, no," I shrugged, "but when I called her on it, she didn't deny it."
"So you asked her, straight out, if this Rolling Stone-ho-wannabe was her steady, and she didn't deny it?"
Her steady? I think Greta was still channeling her mother. Could you channel someone who was still very much alive? I'd have to check into that later.
"Well, no, not really..."
"Ah-HA!!!!" she shouted, nearly causing me to spill my coffee down the front of my shirt, "You went off on a little Darcy rant, didn't you? And didn't give her a chance to explain anything. Am I right?"
"No!" I said defensively, "Well, um...maybe." I finished petulantly, annoyed that she knew me so well.
She nodded sagely, pleased with herself that she had guessed correctly.
I frowned at her and spoke to defend my actions. "We walk in the house, and this Elle McPherson look-alike attacks Kim like a goddamn octopus, sucking on her like a goddamn leech, and nuzzling her. NUZZLING!" I repeated emphatically, as though that explained everything. "What the hell am I suppose to think!"
She watched me, sipping in that goddamned tranquil way she had, until I finished. Then she sipped for a few moments more while I fidgeted.
"Well, your vivid use of water-dwelling animals to describe this woman's behavior certainly seems to point towards Kim's guilt - and of course the NUZZLING!" I winced at her tone, and the exasperated look on her face, "It's no wonder you jumped to conclusions and didn't wait for an explanation."
I gave her an annoyed scowl. "Come on, Greta, you weren't there and didn't see how that woman attached herself..."
"Oh I know, I know," she interrupted with a wave of her coffee cup, "octopuses and leeches and all that nuzzling...or is it octopi?" She stopped and seriously considered her own question. I rolled my eyes and waited for her to continue.
"Did Kim nuzzle back?" She asked after a few seconds, and I blinked.
I had been so overwhelmed by Simone's mitts being all over what I already considered mine that I hadn't thought to notice Kim's reaction to her. I though about it now. And realized that she had simply stood there. No greeting, no hug back, nothing.
"Um-hmm," Greta said at the contemplative look on my face, "listen, Darce, I don't know exactly what's going on, but I know what I saw when you two met, and I know what I saw all day yesterday. She really cares about you, and I think you should hear her out before you make any decisions."
I had probably ruined any chance of that with my charm at our last meeting, and started to tell her as much, but she stopped me with a raised hand. "That's all I'm going to say about it, ok? I know you're going to do what you're going to do, but I really think you should talk to her. Even if she is involved with this woman, you should still talk about what happened..." She looked at me pointedly, "I'm assuming that what we were all assuming happened, happened?"
It scared me a little that I had no problem understanding what she was asking. I hesitated, and nodded, unable to help the little grin that twitched on my lips as I remembered. "Uh-huh."
"Well, from that adorably dorky look on your face right now, I will further assume that is wasn't awful, and that given the chance, you would happily repeat the experience. So here is my advice."
"I thought you weren't going to say anything more." I grumbled, but looked at her expectantly.
"I changed my mind," she said with a shrug, "there's a law somewhere that lets me do that. Anyway, back to the advice. Talk to her, or this whole thing is going to eat you up, and when you do talk to her, keep in mind that she's only twenty-two. Remember how you were at twenty-two?"
Egads. Memories of the myriad of incredibly stupid, selfish and desperate things I had done when I was twenty-two flashed through my mind. Especially the casual way I had viewed sex. I don't know when I started expecting more than one night, but it certainly wasn't when I was twenty-two.
I groaned. "Jesus, Greta, you're not making me feel any better here."
"Well, maybe your own behavior is not a good example - you were a little on the easy side..." I tried to look properly offended, but knew she was right. "I'm just saying that six years can make a big difference, ok? I'm not discouraging you, I just want you to think about it, ok?" She walked past me, poured herself another cup of coffee, and hopped up on the counter, swinging her legs like a little girl. "So. Wanna ski the back bowls with me today?"
I smiled, as much at her behavior as at her change of subject. "I think I've got some stuff I need to take care of this morning... Can I meet up with you later?"
"Stuff, huh?"
"Yep."
"Well, alright then. Timber Ridge at 11:00?"
"Perfect." I reached for the eggs. "Scrambled ok?"
She nodded, and I started cracking.
The rest of breakfast passed without any other mention of Kim, water-dwelling creatures, or Mick Jagger, although every once in a while I caught Greta looking at me with a worried frown.
It wasn't until I was about to leave - showered and dressed in borrowed jeans and a sweatshirt - that Greta brought it up again.
She pulled me into a fierce hug then held me at arms length, looking at me intently.
"You sure you're ok, Darce?"
"Yeah...I guess...shit, Greta, I don't know. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. I just thought...hell, I don't know what I thought."
"Mmm," she said, and put a hand on my chest, "She really got to you, didn't she?"