Arriving at Tequila Barb's, Celia grabbed a stool at the end of the bar. She had changed into a red cotton shirt, a jean skirt, and pulled on her cowboy boots because they made her feel tough. The boots had a concho harness with a silver buckle on the outside and silver tips on the toes.
Very bad-ass.
Seeing Celia, Josie, the bartender, rushed over. Josie had a deep Texas accent that flowed out of her mouth like suntan oil onto a lover's back. A straw cowboy hat, narrow and pointed with a red headband around the crown, perched on her head. Her curly red hair accentuated the freckles on her nose and on her arms. She was wearing a white T-shirt with the red Tequila Barb logo caressing her left breast. The shirt hugged every curve on her body. Celia admired how easily Josie redefined the plain white-T.
"Hey Val, great to see you, girl. What'll it be? You're looking a little hungry, I think."
Hey Val.
Celia faced the name-change situation for the first time. If she was serious about doing this, she needed to commit, and it had to start now. Her brow furrowed understanding that this would be an issue she would have to deal with every day for the foreseeable future. She said, "Yeah, sure, but first things first. I've made a change." Celia leaned over toward her, "I'm changing my name. I hated being Valerie Stewart. She was such a pushover pussy, yuck!"
As the words left her mouth, a strange mix of terror and exhilaration ran through her. She had just made a public declaration, out loud, that she had become a different person. A spark of pride flickered within her as she threw her old persona to the wolves. Josie's reaction would speak volumes.
Josie asked without hesitation, "And the new name?" Celia stood up and said with pride, "Cordelia Barlow. Celia, for short. After my great-great-grandmother."
Josie gushed, "Celia! I like it! Good for you. It's gonna take a minute, but I'm with ya. So, Celia, what can I get ya?" Wow!
That sounds great!
"The usual, I think. And onion rings, with ketchup."
Josie smiled, "Coming right up."
As Josie walked away to put in the order, Celia pulled out a small compact mirror and checked her eye. There wasn't any noticeable swelling, and the makeup performed with precision to cover the shame. Snapping the compact shut, she heard Tommi come up behind her.
"Hey, girl. How ya doin'?" Tommi's voice sounded forced, bordering on meek and shaky.
Celia let out an excited whoop, "Tommi!" She let her name echo for effect, "I have so much to tell you! Come on, sit down." She grabbed Tommi's hands and sat her on the stool next to her.
While Celia bubbled over with excitement, Tommi sat and squirmed in her chair. Her eyes darted around the bar as she avoided direct eye contact with Celia. An uncomfortable and uneasy air surrounded her.
"You want a beer or what? Maybe that Paloma thing?" Celia asked.
Tommi didn't look at Celia as she said, "Yeah, a Paloma would be great."
"Hey Josie! Can we get a Paloma for my friend, please?" Celia yelled out.
Josie waved from the other end of the bar.
Still not looking Celia in the eye, Tommi said, "So, you've been busy."
Celia laughed and bounced in her seat, spinning to face Tommi. "You know it! And I gotta tell you, Tomm, I never felt so good." She laughed, expecting Tommi to support her good fortune. Not getting a response, she plowed forward. "Okay, what did you hear, and I'll fill you in on the rest."
Tommi wasn't smiling. She was shaking. Her voice was sheepish, flavored with a pinch of fear. "Mark said that Rod got caught in a compromising position?"
"Compromising?" Celia let out a snort and twisted her head in a circle. "Yeah, I guess you could say that, if that's your definition for fucking some woman in your wife's bed."
Tommi looked Celia in the eye for the first time, shock registering on her face. "He didn't?"
Celia's face squinted in disbelief. "Oh hell, yes, he did. I don't know what he told you, but hell yeah! Not only that, I found her underwear on my closet floor."
Tommi's face wrinkled, unsure what she was hearing. "What..."
"Now that I think about it, I guess she just waltzed out of the house all commando. Maybe she didn't realize she wasn't wearing underwear." Celia laughed.
Tommi didn't laugh. She turned away and dropped her head. Her knees pressed tight together as her heels tapped a nervous rhythm against the chair rails.
Celia waited for her to say something. When she didn't, Celia's demeanor tempered. "I'm guessing that maybe you don't know the whole story?" "Well, I know now that Rod was with some skank," Tommi said.
"Ah, you know, that's not really fair. I mean, I want to hate her, but we should cut her some slack. She didn't know he was married. He told her I died in a plane crash."
Tommi did a double take. "What?"
Celia's hand settled on Tommi's forearm. "Okay, you don't have the whole story. Here's what happened. We get back from Dallas, right? I'm all ready to have it out over the boobs, like we talked about. But Rod wasn't home." Celia shrugged, "Whatever. I unpack and toss stuff in the hamper. Then, I find this pair of purple lace panties on the floor of the closet."
Tommi's eyes went wide as her hand came up to cover her mouth. "How they got there?" Celia shrugged. "I have no clue, and at this point, I don't even care. Maybe they did it in the closet? Who knows. Anyway, I track him down at the Lonestar Steer, and there he is at the bar, his hand on her ass and his tongue giving her a tonsillectomy."
Tommi gasped. "What did you do?"
"I wanted to kick him in the balls and stuff those panties down his throat...
But then I didn't." Celia smirked at the irony of the situation. "I had a revelation. I just told him that it was over and he needed to find a new place to live." Celia brushed her left cheek.
"Oh, my God. You kicked him out?" Tommi scrunched her face.
"Of course, I kicked him out. What would you do?"
Tommi shook her head multiple times as though she was having a mini grand mal seizure. Her hands waved in front of her face, attempting to shield herself from bad juju. "No, no, no, no."
"Then, I went home and packed up what little stuff he actually owns. I had planned on leaving it in the hall, but before I could do that, everything came tumbling down on me. I started fuming over him and that girl, over how he's been treating me lately, everything. I lost it and tossed everything he owned out the window, and boom! Free at last!" Celia stopped the story before the backhand had been wielded, too embarrassed to admit that.
Tossing that painful flashback aside, she let out a loud guffaw, yelling down the bar to Josie, "Hey, Josie, can we get a little Carrie Underwood playing here?"
Celia stood up on the rails of her barstool and sang about keying trucks and carving initials into leather seats.
Laughing loudly, she bounced on her barstool. "Hell, Rod's old piece of shit truck would fall apart if I ever keyed it." She grabbed Tommi by the shoulders and shouted with ecstasy, "Damn, Tommi, I feel so fucking great." Her arms wrapped around her friend in a giant bear hug.
Squirming out of the embrace, Tommi stared at Celia the way she would've stared at a jury summons.
Josie dropped off Tommi's drink.
"Here you go. Onion rings'll be right out." She walked away. Tommi dropped her head, turned away from Celia, and began to cry. Taken aback, Celia draped her arm over her shoulders, pulling her in for a sisterly hug.
"Hey, what's up? Tommi? Why are you crying?" Celia rocked Tommi back and forth, cupping her face with her hand. "I'm the one he cheated on, and I don't give a crap."
Tommi wiped her eyes with the bar napkin and took a swig of her drink. She breathed in and out a few times and then, staring at the bar top, said, "I'm supposed to talk you into letting Rod come back. Mark really wants for you two to get over it."
Celia froze, afraid that she heard her correctly. She pulled her arm off Tommi's shoulder and looked at her. For the first time, she saw the doubt and confusion swirling in her friend's eyes.
With cautious precision, she said, "What do you mean, Mark wants...? What the hell does Mark have to do with any of this?" She spat out his name.
Tommi gulped down a breath of air. "So, Rod came over... you know, that night, after you were at the bar. He and Mark drank... and, and talked. It sounded like you haven't been very fair to him the last few months." With a sudden outburst, she said, "Val, he's been staying with us, and he sure is miserable."
Celia's face flushed red. Nausea crept up from her belly. "Wait. Rod is staying with you?"
Tommi tried to defend herself. "He and Mark are besties, so where did you think he was gonna go?"
Celia took this betrayal like a blow to the solar plexus. Sitting back on her stool, she took a moment to absorb what Tommi was saying. Just to be certain, she cocked her head, held her index finger in the air to emphasize her point, and, in a steady, even rhythm, said, "And you think that I haven't been very fair to him?"
"Well..." Tommi mumbled.
Celia had always had a nagging uncertainty about Tommi. Despite being considered her closest friend, Celia could never quite shake the suspicion that the trust between them was conditional. She had never voiced that concern; it was just one of those inconvenient feelings that one tends to bury, afraid to admit it. That uncertainty had kept her from sharing her plans about the classes and her boobs. And now the truth was laid bare.
"I always thought you were my friend, maybe my best friend. But that's not true, is it?" Celia said.
Tommi started to cry again. She stuttered, "No, wait, I am your friend. But Rod is Mark's friend. What am I supposed to do?"
"How about stand up for me? Have my back!" Celia shook her head in disbelief. "How about putting the blame where it belongs? I'm not the one who cheated."
Tommi whined, "Yeah, but you've been going behind his back; you got that degree without even telling him. Then you got the boobs!"
"I can't believe you're defending him. What the hell?" Celia stood up, staring Tommi in the face, and then she processed what Tommi had just said.
"Wait, you told Rod about the boobs? How did that even come up?" Celia said, dumbfounded.
Tommi, sheepish and bowed, sniffled, "Last night, Rod was going on about how bad you treat him and how he can't really trust you no more. He said something about us going to South Padre and..." Tommi looked to the floor, "I just told him the truth. But I guess he already knew."
Stunned, Celia sat back down, almost in a trance. Her movements were slow and deliberate, afraid that any sudden jolt would shatter her body into tiny pieces. She stared at her wine, as though it might be able to explain this absurdity.
Turning to Tommi, "And that's what you think? You think I've been treating him bad? For chrissake, Tommi, he was fucking that chick in our apartment. And I'm the bad guy?" Celia pleaded as her world collapsed around her.
Just then, Josie arrived with the onion rings. She took one look at the two of them and said, "Whoa, everything okay over here? You guys look like you're about to brawl."
Celia stood up, the stench of betrayal enveloping them all. She put $40 on the bar. "Thanks for the rings; she'll eat 'em, no doubt." With a snarl, she looked at Tommi and said, "I gotta go." Celia twisted away and headed out.
Tommi yelled after her, "No, wait. We gotta talk about this."
Celia whipped around to Tommi. Marching back to the bar, she grabbed a moist bar napkin and wiped the makeup off her left eye, exposing the bruise. Leaning in so that Tommi could get a good look, she yelled, "You wanna talk about this? This is what your good buddy did to me yesterday. What do you have to say now?" Celia turned and stormed toward the exit. Tommi jumped up and yelled, "No, Valerie! Wait."
Celia stopped, her body rigid, her lips pressed into a thin line of disgust. Turning to Tommi, she unleashed all of the bitterness, betrayal, and disappointment that flowed inside of her. "My name is Celia, bitch, and I'm never going back to Valerie."