(Lake Party, Part Two)
So, to continue, after five hours in the sun and eating sandwiches, chips and soda pop, everyone was pretty tuckered out by the time we returned the pontoon to the Marina. I thought for sure one or another of the wives would say that they regrettably couldn't stay for dinner, the kids were tired, they had stuff to do at home, etcetra.
Nope. Not a one. They all came on back to the house and after I had put everything from the coolers away and wiped down the counters, I could hide no longer. I would have to be hostess for the rest of the evening.
Keith's brother did take off, but they were the one group I was at all comfortable with. I watched them take off and leave with a wistful longing. If only I could get up and go! Somewhere, anywhere, so as to avoid my living room with the waiting hordes of people.
I walked to the living room, and took a sharp turn toward the stairs. I just couldn't do it.
"I'm going to take a shower,' I mouthed to my husband, over people's heads. He nodded understandingly, already regretting his earlier proclamation.
The shower was blissful, hot and steamy and I took my time getting ready. When I emerged, I wore a white, loose linen shirt and cargo pants and smelled like grapefruit. The sun had turned my cheeks red and my skin dark, my lips are naturally a cherry red. I looked pretty good and that gave me a much needed confidence booster. Back to the fray I went.
Downstairs the TV was on, but no one was home. Outside, I found my husband, Amy and her husband sitting around the tailgate of someone's truck, laughing and talking about TV shows, In the distance, I heard a suspicious deep throated rumbling.
"Would that be the ATV I'm hearing?" I asked my husband sweetly.
"That's craziness!" retorted the man, with wide eyed innocence. "Who would be riding the ATV? That's a lawnmower you're hearing. You and these crazy accusations..."
And then the ATV rounded the leafy corner of our previously quiet side street, a couple astride the monstrously loud machine. And when I say loud, I mean, Keith put in a very pricey, completely chrome exhaust, the purpose of which is to make the ATV as loud and mean sounding as possible, in addition to increasing its power.
After a while I had to go back inside. I just couldn't bear the suspense of waiting for the security people to come up and fine Keith, which I was certain would happen. I mean, yesterday the PA system, last night at eleven, the PA system and now, the ATV on the public roads.
Our standing as good neighbors I'm afraid has been completely ruined. We are officially "Those People." And I'm the one that has to walk the dogs, therefore coming into direct contact with the neighbors.
Soon everyone else came in and the grilling commenced. I busied myself in the kitchen until there was nothing more I could do in there, but the Army wives were sitting at the dining room table and I found that we were all engaging in easy, breezy conversation that was fun. There were chips in a big bowl and icy glasses of soda and it was a pretty good time.
Until Keith's mom got it into her head that we had to have alcoholic drinks. One of the Army wives had a birthday very soon and apparently, to Keith's mother, birthdays equal getting drunk on fruity alcoholic drinks and she kept muttering away about how this wife's husband was neglecting her by not producing said alcoholic drinks. (We only had whiskey and beer at the time.)
It got to be a little embarrassing and when Keith popped in from "man territory" on the back deck, he got besieged by his up in arms mother, on her quest for celebratory cocktails. Soon after, his mom and I were in her tiny red VW bug, literally riding off in the sunset in pursuit of Pina Coladas and ice.
We returned with a paper bag of liquor, but no ice. I had forgotten it, my entire focus being on finding the right brand of rum and mixer. Back we went, into the long falling shadows of an early summer evening.
When we returned with two huge bags of ice, the grilling was done and I had escaped most of the socializing, not a bad exchange. The men and children settled at the dining room table with paper plates full of beautifully grilled ribs and large hamburgers and we women sat on the floor around the coffee table in the living room, watching "Shrek 2" on TBS.
After dinner, I escaped to do the dishes, and Pina Coladas were concocted. The young Army wife on whose behalf my mother in law had been so adamant turned out to only be able to drink a small amount, as she was her husband's DD. This is very common. In fact, I sometimes quip that my MOS is to be the DD. (Little Army joke there. Very little.)
Anyway. Keith's mom was quite disappointed and we tried to tell her that we had tried to tell her. I couldn't drink any because I don't drink, due to the fact that I'm actively trying to get pregnant. The other wife had some. The men were drinking whiskey sours or Coors Light.
By this time, it was past eight and there was no sign of anyone leaving. In fact, my husband came up to me and said in falsely bright voice that the other couple were going to be coming by the house again tomorrow, in order to groom Abby for free, since that Army wife knew how to do it and could paint Abby's nails pink.
I tell you what, I could have skewered my husband and grilled him for kebabs upon hearing that, but since it was in public I managed a grimace and ground out "How nice," and then walked away randomly, in shock.
Finally, about nine thirty I just went bed. The young Army wife and her husband had long ago gone home, but the other family just stayed. Their children were literally asleep on the couch, but still they stayed. I actually don't know when they went home.
The next morning, Keith and I woke up exhausted. The house was a wreck. We spent some time straightening up and in dread of the family returning to groom the dogs. Keith called them to see if they come come early.
"I'm going up stairs with the laundry," I informed him. "And I'm staying there until they leave."
He did not even put up a fight, he just nodded.
"And you are not going to invite them for dinner," I added, turning to face him, laundry basket on hip.
Another nod.
"Give me your word."
"You have my word," he said firmly.
So I went up to hide in the bedroom, thinking they were on their way. But they did not arrive for a full three more hours and then stayed until five pm, when Keith, out of desperation, said that I wasn't feeling well and we had better wrap up the visit.
In the meantime, there I was, on toilet seat with book in hand, in case one of the children opened my bedroom door and gave up my hiding place, thereby forcing me to interact. And once one is hiding, coming out of hiding is just too unthinkably awkward.
At five thirty, the house was ours; Keith's mom had left for her journey back to Indiana. After returning again to retrieve a child's toy, the other family also had left. Keith and I were limp.
"Sweetie, I'm sorry. That even took me to the edge," Keith admitted, as we stood about in the kitchen, wondering vaguely about dinner. "And it was all my doing... Why do I get myself into this stuff?"
"Because you can't help but invite every person you talk to," I suggested. "Or else you feel bad. But no more. Just don't tell people next time."
"Right. No more," he agreed.
I love my husband, but I'm a realist. Maybe next time he'll just invite some of the people he talks to. As for me, I'm shameless now. I will hide and or run away the next time. I'm an introvert; that's just the way I'm built. What other people think of me is none of my business.
(Those last sentences being my most recent mantras. I like them. I especially like saying, "That's just the way I roll." Which is dorky, but quite liberating. I recommend using it.)
