Page 93 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“Popey, Popey!” I call out, hearing the jingle of his heavenly bells ring out as he approaches. Everything I do in life is for my dog, to impress him, to make him feel proud, to make him love me more and more every day. This is a moment I don’t want him to miss, my most humane act so far.
“There you are. Come here, you little disciple of Christ, come to Mommy’s bosom.”
With his paws on the edge of the swing, I quickly snatch him up and snuggle him close, taking in his cologne, loving the way he smells like an old church, like he just came from scrubbing grime from church pews. I wouldn’t put it past him. I once saw him lick the floor of an altar, his way of blessing the sacred grounds of Saints Constantine and Helen Greek Orthodox Church.
We’re not Greek but we are lovers of Christ, so we go to all the churches, blessing them with Popey’s tongue, despite our Catholic origins.
“Hi Bellini,” Litter Box’s voice calls out as I sniff Popey’s paws. They always smell like corn chips, they soothe me.
“Litter Box, how nice of you to join us. Mauve, please grab us some waters, one for you as well. Oh, and I need a Tic Tac.”
Pulling a pack from her back pocket, she puts one in my mouth and then goes to the outside bar to fetch us some water.
Litter Box positions herself on the swing across from me and adjusts the flowy top she’s wearing. Examining her short black shorts and matching high heels, I wonder if Mauve will find her attractive. Who am I kidding, of course she will. I’m a brilliant matchmaker.
“Did you find the house all right?”
“Yes,” she answers with a smile. “Pocket gave wonderful directions. Is she here today?” Litter Box looks around.
“No, she has yeast coming out of every orifice of her body.” I shiver. “She’s been banned indefinitely until she gets everything cleared out.”
“That sounds unpleasant,” Litter box replies.
“Tell me about it. She was near me when things started to fester in the inner depths of her folds.” I gag. “I can’t imagine what I would have done if I caught it.”
“Yeast infections are not contagious, Bellini,” Mauve says, handing me a drink, acting like a know-it-all. “It’s not like an airborne virus.”
I see right through her, Mauve is trying to show off in front of the piece of meat I brought here for her. Fair enough, I will let this slip by, because I’m all for gay pride.
“Sit down, Mauve.” She takes a seat, just as Jasper and Reese walk to the back of the house where we are all convening.
“We let ourselves in, hope that’s okay,” Jasper says.
“Oh, you’re here,” I say, ignoring Jasper. “Come here, sweetheart.” I hold my hand out to Reese who looks confused from my term of endearment. I purse my lips, trying to get him to notice our company. He glances to the side and sees Litter Box so he clears his throat and holds out his hand, which I take and pull him to sit on the swing with me. Placing my legs over his lap, I force his hand down on my thigh as we swing together. We make such a good couple.
“Jasper, sit down. You two got here just in time to witness a very magical occasion. Melon,” I shout, forcing Reese to cringe and cover his ear. “Where is that woman?”
“Getting lunch, remember?” Mauve says, a little concerned.
“Oh, right.” I clear my throat. “Thank you all for joining me today.”
“How long is this going to take? We have a meeting, and Jonathan is coming over to hand me some paperwork from Wally,” Jasper says, cutting me off rudely.
Trying not to raise my voice or snap at him, I say, “This is just as important, Jasper. You are about to witness love in the making.”
“What’s going on?” Reese tenses up, trying to remove his hand from my thigh, but I stop him and instead hold his hand. Mauve’s eyes search out our connected hands and I feel pity for her; the poor girl just wants to be loved. Very soon she will be, very soon you, bologna-eating monster.
“A few weeks ago, I was privy to information about a certain someone in our little circle here. I was told that we have someone who likes the same sex in our presence.”
“What?” Who? Jasper?” Reese asks. “I thought you were married to Meredith.”
“I am,” Jasper answers.
“It’s not Jasper.”
Standing up quickly, Mauve says, “Bellini, can I talk to you? It’s kind of important.”
I wave her off. “Sit.” She doesn’t listen to me, and there is some sort of begging coming from her eyes, but I ignore her. “I said sit,” I snap, causing her to fall back in her chair. “Now, where was I? Ah yes, there is a homosexual in the group. Being a good Catholic girl with a dog of God in my care, I found this to be a little startling at first, to be so close to someone who prefers common-like sexual organs touching. But with the help of Pope Francis by my side, I’ve risen from the stereotypes that all Catholics hate gays and have accepted the fate of the gays. Mauve, I accept you being a lesbian.”
