ELEVEN
It was mid-afternoon by the time Vivian entered the town and parked Gretta’s little station wagon she’d insisted on taking in the parking lot outside of the doctor’s office located on the main street. It was one of those little town roads that cut right through the center, with a few essential shops, a bank, the sheriff’s station, and the doctor’s office all sandwiched together, putting everything a person might need within walking distance.
“Do you want me to go in with you?”
Gretta cut her weathered hand through the air and hobbled her way up to the curb and toward the entrance, a single recessed door set between two bay windows, marked clearly in black letters:
Dr. J. Kutter, MD
Family Practice
Below that was a list of emergency and non-emergency hours. Inside, the blinds were open to allow in the afternoon sunlight, showing off a clean and surprisingly modern waiting room with two people waiting amongst the sea of chairs to be seen.
“I’m fine by myself. Go explore. Buy something nice for yourself. Eat a sandwich. Lord knows you’re too damn skinny,” Gretta said over her shoulder as she opened the door, a bell chiming her arrival.
Then Vivian was alone, standing beside the wagon, with no idea what to do with herself for who knew how long.
Then she spotted a quaint little vintage shop at the end of the street and thought, in keeping with her adventure, she might try another something new for a change.
The Thrifty Housewife was a tall red-brick building decorated with scrolled iron hooks and lush hanging ferns, clay pots filled with splashes of colorful petunias, and two white-painted rocking chairs on its front stoop. The hand-painted sign in delicate gold lettering was just the touch of whimsy it needed to finish off the look of a small-town store.
Vivian was smiling as she entered the shop and, again, a little brass bell chimed overhead, announcing her presence to the woman who was fanning a stack of business cards on a tin tray behind the counter.
Her dark brown pigtails whipped about as her head popped up. “Oh, hello there!” She paused, taking Vivian in from head to toe, then her expression brightened impossibly further. “You must be the new girl in town I’ve heard so much about.”
Vivian had no idea how to respond to that. “Um…yeah, I guess that’s me. And you must be…I’m sorry,” she said with a chuckle, “I have no idea who you are.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that.” Coming around the counter, she motioned Vivian farther inside as she started tidying up the displays of knickknacks, making sure each one sat just so on the shelves. “I’m the one who runs the online sex shop,” she informed.
Shocked, Vivian took another look at the woman. She was petite, dressed in a patchwork maxi dress that represented every possible color and pattern. Tied around her waist was a leather belt of some kind with long strings hanging down from it like fringe or tassels. Maybe both. She wore Birkenstocks, and when you added in the pigtails? Well, Vivian would almost call her a hippie. At least, that was the impression she gave.
Still, she wouldn’t have thought her a sex store owner.
“Ah, yes, I have heard a bit about you,” she admitted.
“I’m sure. It’s one of those controversial things around here.” She rolled her eyes. “As if every single person in this town hasn’t had sex or expanded beyond missionary.”
“Oh yeah, um, I bet.” Vivian cleared her throat and inspected a rather lovely dream catcher with blue and white feathers dangling from it.
“Out of curiosity, have you ever used toys before?”
Vivian looked cautiously up at her. “You mean…”
“Dildos, vibrators, lubricants,” she expounded.
Vivian felt her face grow red. She had never, ever spoken about sex with anyone before. Not really. Sure, some of the women in her social circle chatted about it sometimes, but she mostly just listened and laughed along with them. It wasn’t something she’d ever felt comfortable sharing personally.
“Oh, you poor thing,” the woman cooed, taking her silence and obvious discomfort as answer enough. “I tell you what,” she said, rushing behind the counter and stooping down.
Vivian watched curiously from her place across the room as she listened to her rummage around for something. When she popped back up, her brown eyes danced with excitement, and she hurried around to Vivian, thrusting her hand out.
“The next time you find yourself in a position to use it, try this.”
Vivian opened her hand out of reflex and just plain good manners, and the woman dropped a travel-sized bottle into her palm. Vivian frowned. “Is this…lubricant?”
“The best kind! It reacts with your body temperature and provides a cooling and warming effect, heightening sensations and sensitivity for both partners, and I don’t have to tell you what that means. Orgasms!” she said giddily. Grabbing both of Vivian’s hands in hers, she squeezed. “I can’t tell you how many fantastic romps I’ve had with this stuff,” she confessed, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.
Vivian was beyond embarrassed, her face flaming hot. She was just thankful that they were the only two in the store. “Um, that’s…great?”
“You’re skeptical. That’s okay. Once you try it, you’ll be saying, ‘Jenna, give me more of that jelly!’ Just you wait ‘n see.” She winked knowingly and headed back to the display she’d been working on, turning a porcelain cat a scant inch to the left.
Vivian’s head was whirling. This woman was something else! She’d never met anyone so confident in their sexuality. No wonder people were talking. She had no doubt ruffled their feathers—in a good way.
Putting the bottle of lube into her purse, she wandered around the space, checking out its wares. “You have a lot of nice stuff,” she told her, taking a closer look at a quill paired with an embossed silver inkwell. “Have you been in business long?”
“It’s a family business, actually. My grandfather opened it back in the thirties, and my mom and dad took over after his stroke in the seventies. When they retired, it was passed down to me. It survived the Depression, wars, economic downturns. No matter the age, people always love a deal.”
“That’s impressive. So business is good?”
Jenna gave her a what-do-you-think look. “Especially in the summer when the county participates in the state-wide garage sale and flea market thing. People from all over the country pass through here buying up as many antiques and collectibles as they can find.”
Vivian’s eyebrows arched. “That must be a sight.”
“I tell ya, you think the people in this town are strange? There are some interesting characters out there.”
Vivian hadn’t and wouldn’t say that much, but she understood her meaning. “I’m from Chicago. You haven’t seen strange until you’ve gone out after midnight in the city.”
“I don’t know much about Chicago, but I’ve always wanted to visit New York.” Jenna surprised her. “I hear the Big Apple is amazing. Expensive, but not to be missed. It’s on my bucket list.”
Vivian picked up a set of wooden spoons, one engraved with ‘Shit stirrer’ in the dip used to scoop up food, and carried it to the counter. “You want to travel?”
“Are you kidding? I want to see the world,” Jenna effused. “Isn’t that what brought you all the way out here?”
“Not exactly,” Vivian shared, knowing it was a topic that would invite questions. “Sometimes life doesn’t go your way, so I decided to explore my options, see what else was out there waiting for me.”
Jenna’s smile was positively bursting. She took the spoons and typed their price into the old-fashioned cash register. “Adventurous. We need more people like you around here. These small towns can get oppressively stale. Two dollars.”
Vivian pulled the money from her wallet and accepted the plastic bag stamped with the shop’s name in exchange. “The pace is a little harder to get used to, but I’m enjoying it so far.”
“You’re staying with Gretta, right?” Jenna asked as Vivian slowly made her way toward the exit.
“Yeah, she gave me a room for as long as I want it.”
“Good. She could use someone to keep her company. We don’t say it much, but we all worry about her being all alone up there in that big old house ever since Pete passed and she had the heart attack.”
Mystery solved. Vivian nodded as if she fully understood. “I’m glad I can help,” she offered, not really sure she was much help at all.
“Well, you take care, and make sure to tell Gretta hello for me.”
“I sure will,” Vivian promised. “Thanks for the spoons.”
“Anytime. Don’t be a stranger.”
Waving, Vivian let herself out and made her way back to the wagon, where she saw Gretta already waiting in the passenger seat.
“Done already?” she questioned as she climbed into the driver’s side. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.” She handed the bag to her.
“I told you all that it wasn’t no big deal,” Gretta huffed, casting Vivian a pensive look as she opened the bag. “Doc said I’m just fine.” Withdrawing the spoons, she read the engraving and hooted. “These are fantastic! Thank you, dear.”
Vivian nodded as she put the car in reverse and backed out of the spot. “You’re welcome. And I’m glad the appointment went well.” Still, she wondered about the episode she’d had in the kitchen. “Did he run any tests or anything? Adjust your medication?”
“A small adjustment and an order to take it easy for a few days. Just to be sure,” she clarified. Then, with a devious smirk that Vivian didn’t trust, she added, “I guess that means you’ll be in charge of the meals for a time.”
Then she winked.
Yep, Vivian didn’t like the sound of that at all.