Read When the Women Come out to Dance (2002) for Free Online

"and your chance of getting that position."
    "I ain't finished the story," Charlie said, in the La-Z-Bo y where Vernice in her sympathy had let him sit. "I starte d toward him as he's brushing himself off. He says to me, picking up the bat, to stay out there and you bet I stopped in my tracks, in my goddamn wing tips. Now he's swinging the ba t to show me where he wants it, belt-high, and says, 'Lay one i n right here.' "
    Vernice said, "He wasn't sore at you?"
    "Lemme finish, okay? I laid one in and he hit it a mile ou t to right center. He says, 'There. Just so you know I can hit a baseball.' Then he says, 'You own a suit?' I told him of cours e I owned a suit. He says, 'Put it on the day we open, and wea r a tie.' ''
    Vernice seemed puzzled. "He hired you?"
    "Yes, he did."
    "Even though you knocked him down?"
    Charlie said to her, "Honey, it's part of the game."
    *
    *
    WHEN THE WOMEN COME OUT TO DANCE.
    Lourdes became Mrs. Mahmood's personal mai d when her friend Viviana quit to go to L . A . w ith her husband. Lourdes and Viviana were bot h from Cali in Colombia and had come to Sout h Florida as mail-order brides. Lourdes' husband, Mr. Zimmer, worked for a paving contractor until hi s death, two years from the time they were married.
    She came to the home on Ocean Drive, only a few blocks from Donald Trump's, expecting to no t have a good feeling for a woman named Mrs.
    Mahmood, wife of Dr. Wasim Mahmood, who altered the faces and breasts of Palm Beach ladies and aspirated their areas of fat. So it surprise d Lourdes the woman didn't look like a Mrs. Mahmood, and that she opened the door herself: this tall redheaded woman in a little green two-piec e swimsuit, sunglasses on her nose, opened the doo r and said, "Lourdes, as in Our Lady of?"
    "No, ma'am, Lour-des, the Spanish way to sa y it," and had to ask, "You have no help here t o open the door?"
    The redheaded Mrs. Mahmood said, "They're in the laundry room watching soaps." She said, "Come on in," and brought Lourdes into this home of marble floors, of statue s and paintings that held no meaning, and out to the swimming pool, where they sat at a patio table beneath a yellowand-white umbrella.
    There were cigarettes, a silver lighter and a tall glass wit h only ice left in it on the table. Mrs. Mahmood lit a cigarette, a long Virginia Slim, and pushed the pack toward Lourdes, wh o was saying, "All I have is this, Mrs. Mahmood," Lourde s bringing a biographical data sheet, a printout, from her stra w bag. She laid it before the redheaded woman showing he r breasts as she leaned forward to look at the sheet.
    " 'Your future wife is in the mail'?"
    "From the Latina introduction list for marriage," Lourde s said. "The men who are interested see it on their computers.
    Is three years old, but what it tells of me is still true. Excep t of course my age. Now it would say thirty-five."
    Mrs. Mahmood, with her wealth, her beauty products , looked no more than thirty. Her red hair was short and reminded Lourdes of the actress who used to be on TV at home, Jill St. John, with the same pale skin. She said, "That's right , you and Viviana were both mail-order brides," still looking a t the sheet. "Your English is good--that's true. You don' t smoke or drink."
    "I drink now sometime, socially."
    "You don't have e-mail."
    "No, so we wrote letters to correspond, before he came t o Cali, where I lived. They have parties for the men who com e and we get--you know, we dress up for it."
    "Look each other over." "Yes, is how I met Mr. Zimmer in person."
    "Is that what you called him?"
    "I didn't call him anything."
    "Mrs. Zimmer," the redheaded woman said. "How woul d you like to be Mrs. Mahmood?"
    "I wouldn't think that was your name."
    She was looking at the printout again. "You're virtuous , sensitive, hardworking, optimistic. Looking for a man who's a kind, loving person with a good job. Was that Mr. Zimmer?"
    "He was okay except when he drank too much. I had to b e careful what I said