Colin Palmer

Steven. Crazy on You


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you get the door Di, it will be Steven”.

      He heard footsteps coming down the stairs out of view, but obviously near to the front door. The door suddenly opened and Steven looked into two of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They were dancing merrily and Steven smiled at her.

      “Hi, Diane isn’t it, I’m Steven.”

      Her voice shocked him back to normalcy. It was a beautiful

      voice to match the eyes, but her words didn’t match.

      “I don’t know what she sees in you, but I ‘spose you had better come in.” The eyes were still dancing and now full of mirth as well as she stepped back for him to enter.

      “After you” he said.

      He followed her down the short hallway. She was dressed in a shortish floral summer dress and had nice tanned legs, and overall a nice body, Steven noticed. She appeared to move her hips with a bit more flourish even as Steven was thinking about her but then she stopped suddenly and turned to face him.

      “So, finished checking me over now, or would you like me down to my birthday suit so you can see it all?”

      Her voice was hard and Steven was startled to see that her face was beautiful even though the eyes were now set like flints.

      “Diane, I would love to see you naked” her brashness had fueled him up.

      “You’re exactly like Monica said you’d be, a right arsehole, a smart mouthed arsehole.”

      Steven was totally baffled by the venom in the voice of this angel.

      “What have I ever done to you?”

      It was the only thing he could think of to say and he wished he hadn’t almost immediately.

      “It is you and the likes of you that are making women stronger everyday you arsehole” the absolute hatred in her eyes as well as her voice made Steven take two step backwards. “You think you can just keep treating us like shit as long as you can get what you want when you want it, head jobs on demand, a quick fuck while we’re up against the sink doing the dishes…”

      “Diane!” Monicas voice cut her off in mid-tirade, and Steven looked at her with, he hoped, a level of appreciation that bordered on worship. Monica walked up behind Diane and put her arms around her shoulders. “It’s alright Baby” she cooed almost. “C’mon, how is he going to listen to us if you intend assaulting him every time he comes and visits? He’s here as my guest Babe, please let’s start off on the right foot at least.” She was turning Diane away from Steven as she spoke. “Give me a hand in the kitchen will you” and then to Steven, “Would you like a drink?”

      He just nodded, still dumbfounded by the attack and not knowing what to do about anything at that point. They disappeared around the corner through the dining room, and Steven heard glasses clinking, and realized he hadn’t told Monica what he would like. He stepped off to follow and then stopped and thought better of it, taking a seat on the pappasan chair, that he noticed immediately was perfectly positioned to receive the stereo effect from the speakers. He loved ‘Floyd’, and tried to forget the pure viciousness from Diane while mellowing to the strains of the music. Monica was back in what seemed like moments with a glass of white wine. She handed it to him and Steven offered her a questioning look.

      “I’m sorry Steven…” she hesitated when she saw him frown, and then smile broadly at her. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

      “I never thought I’d see the day, you in a skirt, my God, wait until they hear about this at work”. Steven wondered how he hadn’t noticed earlier, but was reminded instantly.

      “Maybe I should have just let her fly off at you, you are an arsehole”.

      She was angry, and it showed. She stalked off back to the kitchen leaving Steven alone again, wide eyed, and now thinking about what was going on rather than listening to the music anymore. Monica looked stunning in a dress, like a beautiful woman should look, and Steven wanted to tell her that and apologise. He stood up and walked around to the dining room. In the kitchen, the girls had embraced and had their heads resting on each others shoulder. They were oblivious to him. Monica ran her hand down the back of Di’s head, soothing, like a Mother would do to a hurt child. And then he saw the chicken! It lay, cooked, sitting in the baking dish, and had obviously just come out of the oven. But its position reminded Steven so much of a recollection from many years ago, when he’d been imagining his Mother offering him a piece of baked magpie. He burst into laughter and the girls turned immediately and saw him.

      “I’m sorry, I didn’t, I wasn’t laughing at you two.” He could see the predicament he was now in becoming worse. Some quick talking was required. “I’d come in to say sorry and I didn’t want to interrupt, but I saw the chicken there with its legs up and it reminded me of something from school. Maybe I should come back some other time.” The second part resulted from his assessment that his first sentence sounded absolutely ridiculous. “Look, I am sorry, I was looking forward to this, I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t want to spoil anything so how about I just go for now”.

      “Wait, Steven” it was Diane’s voice that stopped him as he began to turn away. “Let’s just forget it and start again. We’ll (she looked at Monica as she said it) explain everything in a minute, but why don’t you just go through the music and put something on you like, and dinner will be soon”. Her voice was liltingly beautiful, still being forced, almost patronising, but more sincere than at any other time in the last five minutes that he had been here.

      “I like Floyd, it’s fine” and then “okay, I’m going” as Monica frowned at him heavily. ‘Should have realized that I was being given a hint’ he thought to himself as he walked over to the records and tapes.

      Dinner turned out to be a quiet affair with only a little small talk to interrupt the sounds of the music, and the occasional scratch of cutlery on china and chink of a wine glass. Both Di and Monica appeared to be deep in thought and Steven was content to savor home cooking and ignore the obvious silence. As Monica rose to clear the plates from the main course, Steven gave her a genuine glance of appreciation.

      “Thanks, that was great, but why do I feel like I am the lamb being fattened up for market?”.

      “It’s not that at all Steven. Me and Di often sit and discuss people, and since you have come to work with me, I guess that you have been one of our topics of conversation”.

      “Yeah, ok, but what about?”

      Steven sat there his eyes moving between the two of them so quickly that it was almost like he was shaking his head. His look was one of utter confusion. Diane all of a sudden smiled broadly at him, she really was beautiful. Then she started laughing, and her laugh gathered momentum so much that Monica also started, and the infectious nature of genuine laughter meant that Steven, confused as all hell as he still was, joined in as well. All three took some minutes to calm down after the initial outburst, either or all of them threatening to start again, at anything remotely silly or otherwise, like looking at each other, or lifting a wine glass or the left over food on plates, hilarious things like that. Diane was wiping tears from her eyes with her napkin when she looked directly at him.

      “I am sorry about before, I guess I got a bee in my bonnet about nothing in particular (‘yeah right, nothing’ thought Steven),