Bend over, twist, aaaaaand flip.
I stand up to make sure that the towel is firmly wrapped around my hair. Now that I've showered, I feel re-energized and ready for the Grand Opening. I'm actually excited for it.
I lean over and look at myself in the mirror as soon as the fog from the shower starts to disappear.
Hmmm...should probably pluck my eyebrows.
"Mia," Consuela says from the hallway. I open the door and nearly double over in shock to see her mopping the floor.
Did hell just freeze over?
"Yes," I say. I don't want her to see me overreacting to her being efficient.
"Yer iz going to meet da wife of Benny?" she says. I can almost see the wheels cranking as she tries to process the idea of me being civil to the woman married to the man she would like to see me with.
"Well," I say as I walk past her and towards the guest room where I'm staying "I will have to give her back her ring, won't I?"
Consuela drops the mop and follows behind me; her dollar store slippers clack against the wooden floors.
"MIA!" she squeals, "Yer iz wanna be frendz wis dis woman? Dat Benny he iz nice to yer, and so I sink maybe yer should be wis him."
I roll my eyes.
Do I really need to deal with this?
"Consuela," I say and turn to face her. I catch her off-guard and so she slams into me. Since I stand a good 8 to 10 inches taller than her short Bolivian stature, I don't budge. The fat on her pudgy little arms wiggles for a second after impact.
"Listen to me," I say and replace the needle back on the broken record, "Yes! Benny is cute, and nice, and we get along. But Benny IS MARRIED. Comprende? And I am not about to waste my time chasing after some guy who is married when I seem to have my pick of the hotties around these parts. Got it? No more about Benny!" I say.
Maybe she sensed that I was attracted to him, and that's why she's on a tangent. But attraction and action are two very different things. That's where Consuela and I differ. She is definitely more carnal than me.
"Iz yer life," she says with a sulk.
"That's right! It is my life. Now, leave me alone so I can get ready." I tell her as I walk into the closet to see if I actually packed anything appropriate enough to wear.
Consuela just stands there with her pudgy little arms crossed across her pudgy little stomach.
"I iz not stooopid, Mia. I iz know yer sink dat Benny iz da good husband fer yer!" she says in an agitated octave a little higher than her natural voice.
Maybe she means the poorly translated version of 'husband material'. Or maybe she's just crazy. Whatever it is, I don't have time for this.
I've finally had it.
"Enough!" I yell at her and squint my eyes so she knows I'm serious.
A moment later I hear her dollar store slippers slamming against the steps as she grumbles her way back downstairs.
"Get back up here and pick up that mop!" I yell back at her. Two seconds later the grumbles and stomps get louder as I hear her pass by the door, pick up the mop, and drag it behind her as she stomps and storms back down the stairs. The mop clunks loudly down each step after her.
The moment has passed. Centre yourself...
I take a deep breath and try to forget about Consuela.
After arranging a few choice outfits in my head, I finally decide on a fun halter top and some dress pants, and lay them on the bed while I search in my suitcases for my shoes. I know the perfect set of shoes. They're red and fabulous...
I can't believe I didn't bring them.
When was the last time I had them? I must have left them back...
And then I remember.
Eli's.
I take a seat on the bed. I must be overheated from the shower because I start to feel a wave of nausea.
My shoes are at Eli's.
I lay my head on the pillow. I want to cry, but I can't.
I take a moment to compose myself, and when the nausea passes I sit back up and start to slip into the dress pants. A few moments later I'm blow drying my hair in the bathroom and thinking about anything and everything other than what shoes I want to wear tonight.
The shoes are not important.
Taking the next step forward, is.
