fucking stove and Woz knows it."
Lourdes said, "Wos?"
"Wasim. He thinks it's because I don't know how to cook , which I don't, really, but that's not the reason. The two regular maids are Filipina and speak English. In fact they have less of an accent than you. They won't give you any trouble, the y look at the ground when they talk to anyone. And they leav e at four, thank God. Woz always swims nude--don't ask m e why, it might be a Muslim thing--so if they see him in th e pool they hide in the laundry room. Or if I put on som e Southern hip-hop and they happen to walk in while I' m bouncing to Dirty South doing my aerobics, they run for th e laundry room." She said without a pause, "What did Vivian a say about me?"
"Oh, how nice you are, what a pleasure to work here."
"Come on--I know she told you I was a stripper."
"She say you were a dancer before, yes."
"I started out in a dump on Federal Highway, got discovered and jumped to Miami Gold on Biscayne, valet parking. I was one of the very first, outside of black chicks, to do Southern hip-hop, and I mean Dirty South raw and uncut, while the other girls are doing Limp Bizkit, even some old Bob Seege r and Bad Company--and that's okay, whatever works for you.
But in the meantime I'm making more doing laptops and private gigs than any girl at the Gold and I'm twenty-seven at the time, older than any of them. Woz would come in with hi s buddies, all suits and ties, trying hard not to look Thir d World. The first time he waved a fifty at me I gave him som e close-up tribal strip-hop. I said, 'Doctor, you can see better i f you put your eyeballs back in your head.' He loved that kind of talk. About the fourth visit I gave him what's known as th e million-dollar hand job and became Mrs. Mahmood."
She told this sitting back relaxed, smoking her Virgini a Slim cigarette, Lourdes nodding, wondering at times wha t she was talking about, Lourdes saying "I see" in a pleasan t voice when the woman paused.
Now she was saying, "His first wife stayed in Pakista n while he was here in med school. Right after he finished hi s residency and opened his practice, she died." The woman said , "Let's see . . . You won't have to wear a uniform unless Wo z wants you to serve drinks. Once in a while he has some of hi s ragtop buddies over for cocktails. Now you see these guys i n their Nehru outfits and hear them chattering away in Urdu. I w alk in, 'Ah, Mrs. Mahmood,' in that semi-British singsong y way they speak, 'what a lovely sight you are to my eyes thi s evening.' Wondering if I'm the same chick he used to watc h strip.''
She took time to light another cigarette and Lourdes said , "Do I wear my own clothes working here?"
"At first, but I'll get you some cool outfits. What are you , about an eight?"
"My size? Yes, I believe so."
"Let's see--stand up."
Lourdes rose and moved away from the table in the direction Mrs. Mahmood waved her hand. Now the woman was staring at her. She said, "I told you his first wife died?"
"Yes, ma'am, you did."
"She burned to death."
Lourdes said, "Oh?"
But the redheaded woman didn't tell her how it happened.
She smoked her cigarette and said, "Your legs are good, bu t you're kinda short-waisted, a bit top-heavy. But don't worry , I'll get you fixed up. What's your favorite color?"
"I always like blue, Mrs. Mahmood."
She said, "Listen, I don't want you to call me that anymore.
You can say ma'am in front of Woz to get my attention, bu t when it's just you and I? I'd rather you called me by my ow n name."
"Yes?"
"It's Ginger. Well, actually it's Janeen, but all of m y friends call me Ginger. The ones I have left."
Meaning, Lourdes believed, since she was married to th e doctor, friends who also danced naked, or maybe even guys.
Lourdes said, "Ginger?"
"Not Yinyor. Gin-ger. Try it again."
"Gin-gar?"
"That's close. Work on it."
But she could not make herself call Mrs.
Mahmood Ginger. Not yet. Not during the first few weeks.
Not on the
C. J. Valles, Alessa James