The embodiment of what she wanted was only a figment of someone else’s imagination. She’d often felt she was born in the wrong century. Not that she would have wanted to have been born a slave, but certainly in the after years she could have seen herself as the mistress of the plantation. Resplendent in the glorious gowns of the period with a manor-style home decorated with the finest artwork and collectibles. Yes, she could even see herself being waited on by servants. Even the idea of black servants did not disturb her dream; after all, she would be a good mistress to her help.
She shifted her position in the bed again and thought about the stunning specimen of a man who had just left her. She could picture him in the soldier’s uniform sitting upright on the horse, his sword holstered and his rifle at the ready, his strong steed dancing lightly beneath him as he used the strong muscles of his thighs to control the snuffling beast. There she was beside him in her fabulous pink gown, cinched at the waist and puffing out over the crinoline underneath. Her hair would be swept up in a French chignon, with little wisps escaping, creating a subtle softness to her face. She saw it all in her mind’s eye with a matte finish; painted with an artist’s brush. This was what she desired most but gave up looking for many years ago.
She rolled off the bed and walked to the bedroom door. Turning back into the room, she looked longingly at the print once more. Brushing an errant tear from her cheek, she closed the door and headed down the hallway toward her bathroom.
5
Naomi sat at the kitchen table reading the local entertainment newspaper Greg had picked up at a free newsstand on their last trip into town. Greg always liked to see what was happening around town. She flipped it to the personals section out of curiosity and began perusing some of the ads. While reading the Women Seeking Men section, her attention was drawn to an ad that read Handy Men, Inc—Specialists in cobweb removal, pipe cleaning, lubrication, and rejuvenation of unused facilities. We promise discreet, quick, responsive resolution to your in-home woes. Call now: 312-555-HMAN. She naively thought the ad was misplaced in the personals section. Shaking her head and sighing deeply, she closed the paper and got up to make a pot of coffee.
Naomi was meeting Ida, her best friend, for lunch at the mall later in the afternoon. In the meantime, there was housework that needed to be done. The ad kept popping into her head as she thought of a few minor repairs around the house that Greg had not had a chance to take care of. An hour later she returned to the kitchen and cut the ad out of the paper and stuck it into her pocket. A handyman might just do the trick, she thought. It would take some of the stress off Greg and give him more time to relax when he was home from work.
Ida was waiting for her at the Nordstrom entrance to the Woodfield Mall. They exchanged a greeting hug and proceeded to the housewares department. Ida was redoing her master bath and had enlisted Naomi’s assistance with the decorating. An hour and a half later, they were both loaded down with new towels, facecloths, and matching accessories.
They made their way across the mall to the Rainforest Café for lunch. Their lunch discussion centered on Ida’s twins, who were in first grade this year and were spending a full day away from her. She said she found it so freeing to have the little ones out of her hair for several blissful hours every day. So her first project was to redecorate all the bathrooms in the house.
Naomi mentioned she wanted to get some work done around the house as well and pulled the ad from her pocketbook to show Ida and ask her what she thought.
“I found this in the paper this morning. I was hoping to get some work done around the house. Do you think I should call them?” she asked.
Ida took the ad and looked it over carefully. A small frown puckered her brow.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
“From the newspaper,” Naomi replied innocently.
“It reads a little strange. What paper was it? What section of the paper?” Ida asked, turning the paper over in her hand and perusing the reverse side of the ad. It didn’t look like the Chicago Sun-Times to her, and there was half a naked woman on the back.
“That paper you get free on the street in those newsstand boxes on the corner. Greg picked it up. I think they misplaced it in the personals section. I almost didn’t see it. I don’t know how they expect to drum up business that way,” she replied.
Ida burst out laughing. Naomi, not sure what the joke was, became embarrassed.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Oh, Lucy. I love you,” Ida replied between her tears of laughter.
Naomi knew when Ida called her Lucy it meant she’d done something dumb. Ida loved Lucille Ball, and while Naomi tried not to become offended by the nickname, she always inadvertently found out she’d made a huge gaff when Ida called her Lucy.
“What did I do this time?” Naomi asked, exasperated.
“Honey, you found this in the personals. Now I won’t even ask what you were doing reading the personals, but…here, read it again,” Ida said and attempted to hand the little cutout back to Naomi.
“I read it already. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, pushing the paper back at Ida.
“I’ll bet this was in the section of women looking for men, am I right?” Ida asked.
“Yes, I think it was,” Naomi replied quietly.
“Okay, look here where it says ‘pipe cleaning, lubrication, and rejuvenation of unused facilities’.” Ida pointed to the lines in the ad.
“All right,” Naomi said and looked up, puzzled.
“‘Discreet, quick, responsive resolution to your in-home woes’?” Ida continued.
“Okay, what am I missing?” Naomi asked.
“How regularly does Greg clean your pipes?” Ida asked seriously.
“Jeez, I don’t think he’s touched them in years,” Naomi replied with equal seriousness. She couldn’t remember the last time Greg went up on the roof to clean the gutters.
“Naomi, you clearly do not understand what I am talking about. So let me be blunt. When was the last time you and Greg had sex?” Ida asked boldly.
Naomi flushed a deep red. How did they get to the topic of sex, especially between her and Greg? It was not a topic she liked to discuss, even with Ida.
“Ugh, last week. Why? What does that have to do with anything?” she whispered, highly agitated by where this conversation was going.
“This is a sex ad, Naomi. This type of handyman services your sexual pipes and needs—nothing else. Do you understand now?” Ida said slowly for effect.
“Oh!” Naomi said, clutching her hand to her chest. With her other hand she snatched the ad back and crumpled it up. “How could I be so stupid?”
“You’re not stupid. You just haven’t been exposed to things like this. So you don’t see it for what it really is. You’re just too innocent. Sad to say,” Ida counseled.
Naomi stared down at her plate for a long time and said nothing. Slowly she picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. Ida was shocked to see her so upset over something so silly.
