I wasn
’
t coated in Penis Teflon. I
was
Penis Teflon. Memories flo
oded in as I lit my next cigarette with the burning embers of my last one. Peter being so excited about getting published. Peter opening his box of advance copies and holding one out as if it were the Holy Grail. Peter saying that he didn
’
t care if it sol
d
. Afterward, when he
’
d retreated into silent sulks and severe avoidance, I figured he had lied about not caring.
But that wasn
’
t it.
He cared that I cared.
I
’
d made him feel like a failure.
And I hadn
’
t even known I
’
d done it.
I thought about Vera and Brid
ge. Mags and Jack. Bev and my grandfather, who had been mentioned so infrequently in my presence that I wasn
’
t even sure his name was Henry. What if Penis Teflon wasn
’
t a curse, or a chemical thing, but rather a learned behavior? Something the Miz Fallons
passed down from one generation to the next, without even realizing it?
Without even realizing it.
I
hadn
’
t realized it. Maybe Vera hadn
’
t, either. Or Mags. Or Bev. Maybe we
’
d all learned it from each other, each of us reinforcing the behavior in each othe
r. Invasion of the Common Sense Snatchers.
“
If that
’
s the case,”
I said, pointing my cigarette out between my fingers and jabbing it in the air at no one, “
then we can unlearn it.”
I giggled as I pressed the cigarette down in the ashtray. My heart was jerk
ing around in my rib cage, fueled by adrenaline and fear and not a little nicotine, but mostly by hope.
I stood up and took in a deep breath.
Hope. It was like a bright shaft of light illuminating dusty corners of my mind I
’
d never bothered to look for.
Hope. There was hope.
I grabbed my jacket and slammed the door behind me, rushing down the stairs to get into the Page, where I planned to call the Mizzes for an emergency family meeting.
Chapter Ten
“
Thanks for coming over so quickly,”
I said, picking
up two mugs of coffee to hand to the Mizzes, who sat in the easy chairs circling the coffee bar at the Page. The shop was closed and lit only by the streetlights outside the front window, but none of us made a move to turn on the indoor lights.
Bev frowned
and kept her hands in her lap, refusing the coffee I offered. Vera clasped her hands around her mug as her elbows rested on her knees, an expression of deep concentration on her face as she watched me. Mags smiled her typical enthusiastic smile, acceptin
g
the coffee I offered even though I knew she had no intention of actually drinking it.
Okay.
I inhaled deeply and dove in.
“
Look, I have something I need to talk to you guys about. Something important.”
I leaned my backside against the coffee bar, my finge
rs grasping the edge of the counter behind me. “
I think I
’
ve figured out the Penis Teflon.”
Bev
’
s eyes narrowed at me. “
The
what}
”
“
Penis Teflon,”
Mags said.
“
You know, how men don
’
t stick to Miz Fallons,”
Vera said. “
Portia calls it Penis Teflon.”
“
It
’
s n
ot important what it
’
s called,”
I said, keeping my eyes on Bev, who was hands down my toughest customer. “
What
’
s important is that I think I
’
ve figured it out. But I need your help.”
The Mizzes stared at me, saying nothing. I pulled a bar stool closer to
t
hem and sat, leaning forward, talking with my hands, hoping my enthusiasm would spark some in them.
“
See, all this time, I thought it was a curse driving all the men away, or some sort of...aura, or smell, or something...”
Bev raised her eyes to mine and b
linked heavily. “
Smell?”
“
Or something,”
I said. “
But now, I think...I think it
’
s us. Our behavior. Our choices. We probably don
’
t even realize we do it. I didn
’
t with Peter, but after talking to him at dinner tonight, it
’
s like
—
BOOM!
—
I suddenly understand
, you know?”
Mags grinned. “
How was dinner? Did you have a good time?”
“
Yes,”
I said. “
But that
’
s not what I
’
m talking about. It
’
s about how we broke up. That whole mess...I thought I was totally innocent, and it turns out I wasn
’
t. I was doing things I di
dn
’
t realize I was doing, and I drove him away.”
I paused. They stared. I hadn
’
t anticipated how hard it would be to ask what I was going to ask, but based on Bev
’
s expression I
’
d spent whatever currency I
’
d made in her good graces the other night, so I di
dn
’
t have much to lose by continuing.
“
So, I need to know...”
I said, my eyes connecting with each of them before I continued, “
what happened. With all of you, I mean.”
Bev shifted in her seat. I estimated the chances at fair to middlin
’
that she was fixin
g to hand me my ass on a platter. I held my hand up to silence her.
“
Look, I know you probably think this is a load of crap, but hear me out, Bev. I can
’
t stop the pattern if I don
’
t know how it started. I don
’
t know anything about you and my grandfather.
I
’
m not even entirely sure his name was Henry.”
Bev
’
s eyes iced over as I said the name. I hurried to switch my attention to Mags. “
And Mags, I know you don
’
t want to tell me, but you and Jack...I need to know what happened.”
Mags focused on smoothing her
skirt over her legs. I turned to Vera, who was watching me intently.
“
And Vera...What about you and Bridge?”
Vera kept eye contact but didn
’
t say anythin
g. I felt a cold sweat break out on my neck. All wrong. I was handling this all wrong. I got up and began to pace the floor in front of them, searching my mind for another tactic, something that would work, some secret handshake that would allow me into t
h
eir world, that would help me understand. All these years, we
’
d never discussed these things, and it was scary territory. For me as much as them. But I needed to know, damnit.
I needed to know.
I stopped pacing and slowly moved my eyes from Miz to Miz. “
Lo
ok,”
I said, “
y
’
all are always saying that you want me to be happy. If I
’
m gonna be happy, with Peter or with anyone, I need to know what I
’
ve been doing that
’
s been making me unhappy. You can help me. Just tell me your stories. It was all a long time ago,
but I
’
m going through this now, and I need your help.”
There was a pin-drop silence. Finally, Bev stood up, her eyes swimming in fury, her index finger pointed at me like a gun.
“
Let me tell you something,”
she said, her voice scratching the muddy bottom
of her range, “
just because you can
’
t make a relationship work, do not turn around and blame it on us. Peter wants to marry you and care for you, and you keep putting him off, and then you have the nerve to come to us talking about Penis Teflon?”
I didn
’
t
know what to say. I
’
d pissed Bev off a fair amount in my day, but I
’
d never seen her this angry. Her lips trembled. Her jaw clenched. She lowered her shaky index finger and took a step toward me. I half expected her to slap me across the face. Instead, sh
e
just locked her steely blue eyes on mine.
“
And don
’
t you dare ever mention your grandfather
’
s name in my presence again. You hear me, child?”
I nodded, feeling like a terrified six-year-old. She tightened her grip on her sweater and walked out, slamming t
he door behind her, the bells jangling nervously in her wake. I stared at the door, heat shimmering in my eyes. I swiped my hand over my face and looked at Mags and
Vera
.
“
Well. What about you two?”
Mags hesitated for a moment, then stood up. Her eyes were
watery and her smile was gone. Without a word, she walked out, her unholy red pumps making almost no sound as she made her way out of the Page. I watched as the door closed behind her, waiting for the bells to stop jingling before I spoke again.
“
Go on, V
era,”
I said. “
I
’
ll make sure everything
’
s locked up.”
She was quiet for a minute, then said, “
You were right, you know.”
“
Me? Right? When?”
“
When you said I should know better. You were right. I do know better.”
She inhaled and looked up at me. “
But Mags
and Bev don
’
t, and their stories are their stories. But, if it would help you to know what happened with Bridge and me, then I
’
ll tell you.”
“
It would help, Vera,”
I said as I settled myself in the chair next to hers. “
It really, really, really would.”
She
gave me a sad smile. “
But first you
’
ve got to tell me why.”
I rubbed my fingers over my eyes, feeling suddenly drained to exhaustion. “
What?”
Vera watched me for a moment. “
Why is this so important?”
“
Because,”
I said, choosing the first reason that came
to mind, “
Peter told me that he left because I made him feel like a failure.”
She shook her head. “
That
’
s not the reason.”
I blinked. Looked up at the ceiling. Shrugged. Looked back at Vera. “
Because I don
’
t really want a cat?”
She rolled her eyes. “
Aw, gi
rl, you
’
re not even trying.”
“
Good God, Vera. Why don
’
t you just tell me what answer you want because I don
’
t know what it is.”
Vera leaned over the side of her chair and stared me down. “
I think you do.”
I felt light shed on a thought that had been hoveri
ng in a dark corner of my mind. “
Because if I don
’
t understand what the Penis Teflon is all about, I
’
ll lose him, and I don
’
t want to lose him.”
She nodded knowingly. “
That
’
s the one.”
She didn
’
t ask me who I was talking about. Either she assumed I meant P
eter, or it didn
’
t matter. Either way, I was grateful for the stay of execution. I wasn
’
t entirely sure myself.