Work in Progress - Shoe Party Part II

"Great, and no wine either," Marianne says.

I tell her she has limes to go with the soda or the beer.  She says not to drink the beer.  It's the way she says it.

"I'm not five."

"If you wait too long all the best heels will be gone," she says.  And she tells me she likes the way I look in the evil looking mules.  "If no one else buys them, they're yours," she says.  And she laughs, only this time Beast is there with Juniper Johnson's mom.  She doesn't want the beer. 

"Those have attitude," Beast says.

Is this boyfriend Beast or the Beast that has spent months ignoring me and I sometimes see in memories with Shade?

Remember the wine you spilled the last time Marianne had a party and what she told the other women after she thought you were upstairs?  The Mean Girls say.

Shade ditches her ballet flats and slips into a pair of chunky heels and then she tries on skinny, black boots.  Beast swivels his head after the things she says about the smoke outside (to his credit he doesn't check out her footwear).  But he sits next to her.  We all sort of study each other.  Beast looks more at Shade and she stares off into space.  The way Beast looks at her makes me want to see if I can do this too - and I study the tips of his hair so it doesn't appear as if I'm staring at him.  

Marianne's voice is far off, almost as if she's in another universe - far from the beach vacation and sandals on the shore and the neighbor's barbecue she hears about from Juniper Johnson's mom.  Marianne asks me about the drinks.  But then she isn't home for hours.

Shade blends with the Mean Girls in my head.  They're a chorus.  Marianne gives away your mules.

And Shade tells me about the shopping trips she remembers where Marianne bought the heels and clogs and the sandals with the sparkly, fake jewels.  They sit neatly in the living room as if they're guests.

"A memory's life is perfect."  And I tell Shade the reason she knows about all the malls is because I was there.

She removes a pair of combat boots from the line and drops them by the garbage can.

How lucky she is those boots didn't turn into people she knows and saunter around the living room whispering about the other shoes and Marianne's latest date.  I still think about the tattoo George offered me before he left.  And I wish I wasn't too conflicted to answer even to ask for a copy of Marianne's butterfly on my arm. 

Pizza arrives after midnight.  Marianne adds extra cheese she bought from the store.  We eat the monster together, and I ask her about where she was and why she wasn't home like she said.  But she tells me about the ocean in our living room, all the places those shoes traveled before tonight and what she said to Juniper Johnson's mom to get her to buy the wicked mules.