Relatively Odd

“Relatively Odd”

Fully clothed, life-size mannequins aren’t what you’d expect to see in someone’s home. A department store, sure, but not in a home, not like this. Maria was holding her cellphone when she greeted me at the front door and asked me to wait for a moment while she finished her call. When she walked away, I waited a few seconds then stepped into the living room. I didn’t think I’d have to compete with plastic people for a place to sit. All I could do was stand there in the middle of the weirdness and wait for her to return. Fortunately, that wasn’t long and when she walked in, she looked more than a little uneasy.

“Uh, sorry, Luke, I had to wrap up that call. It was important.” She noticed my expression and sighed. “Okay, you saw them. I thought I could move them out before you got here.”

I offered a weak smile and glanced over at a male mannequin dressed in full 1940s Hollywood cowboy regalia, sitting in a big leather chair. He was staring straight ahead in a big Stetson hat, fancy white shirt and shiny black boots. “Uh, that one, that’s Uncle Rudy,” she said awkwardly.

It was all I could do to keep from laughing at the creepiness but I didn’t know her well enough yet and I didn’t want to say anything that would offend her. I pointed toward a strangely pretty, female mannequin in a sparkling red dress and curly black hair. Maria smiled weakly. “That’s Cousin Anna.”

I turned and nodded toward another one. “And him, in the pinstripe suit?”

“Cousin Albert, Anna’s older brother.” Before I could think of anything more to say she asked, “Would you mind helping me move them into the guest room?”

Moments later I was walking down the hallway awkwardly carrying Uncle Rudy, a fake man as big as I was while Maria carried Cousin Anna. The whole thing felt borderline bizarre.

It was hard to stay quiet. All I could think of was asking her, “Why in the hell do you own mannequins and why do they have names?” I knew there was no way I could word it to make it sound like anything but rude and mocking so I decided to wait a while. I hoped she’d offer up a sensible explanation on her own.

She told me to lay Uncle Rudy on the bed while she gently, almost respectfully, set Anna down onto a chair. There was a tone to her voice that told me she was uncomfortable with the situation. When Anna was secure in the chair Maria asked, “Would you mind going back for Albert?” Again I found myself carrying a large, plastic man to the guest room. I laid him down next to the cowboy and stood there for a moment looking at them. I tried not to look like I was staring but I was. When things seemed to be in place we walked back down the hallway to the foyer. “Wait here,“ she said. “I’ll be right back.”

I watched her as she walked back down the hallway. She was a beautiful young woman, someone who I wanted to get to know better. She had a kind of artistic, Bohemian style that I found very appealing. It was almost Valentines Day but a card didn’t seem appropriate. A Saturday lunch didn’t exactly qualify as a first date but it seemed like a normal first step. Her mannequins, however, were anything but normal. They were definitely a surprise and it was hard to stand there and not think about the strangeness of it all.

It had only been a month since she’d started working at the ad agency. I was in the Finance Department and she was in Creative Services so our paths didn’t really cross much. When I did see her there seemed to be a very real chemistry between us. Except for a couple of group Happy Hours we’d never seen each other outside the office. I was hoping this lunch would lead to something more and I hoped she felt the same way. As she walked back down the hallway toward me she apologized again. “I’m so sorry for all the delays.”

“Don’t worry about it, stuff happens,” I answered, pretending that everything was normal. We walked outside and got into my car. As we headed to the restaurant there was an uncomfortable silence. I looked over at her and she seemed nervous. It was time for some kind of conversation but before I could say anything she looked at me and said, “I know you’re probably wondering about them, the mannequins.” I nodded. She hesitated a moment. “They’re my…well, they’re my relatives…my family.”

Nothing she could have said could possibly have sounded any stranger to me. She was single and lived alone like many young women did but I was certain those other young women didn’t share their homes with mannequins. And mannequins with clothes and names. As odd as the situation was, her calling them her family was more than a little strange. I began to wonder what I’d gotten myself into.

She was looking out the window, wringing her hands in her lap. “Luke, how about we wait until we get to the restaurant and then I’ll explain things?”

The Red Rock Café is one of my favorite local eateries. It wasn’t crowded and we found a window table in the back corner of the barroom. Not knowing what kind of story Maria was about to share with me, the bit of privacy was welcome. We ordered drinks and I was glad to discover she was a beer lover. Just another little thing for me to like about her. By the time our server had brought our beer and walked away, the tension on Maria’s face had become obvious. I think I was as nervous as she was.

She took a sip of beer, paused, then began, “Okay, you must be thinking all kinds of things about me, like I’m crazy or something. I wish you hadn’t seen all of that at my house but you did and I can’t change that.” Her voice was shaking. “So here it is.” She let out a long breath and began. “I was born in Albuquerque. My parents died in a car accident when I was just four and I was raised by my Aunt Grace. She tried to take good care of me, at least for a while, but when I was around eight she started acting strangely. She was drinking more and more and she was hardly ever home. There were times when she’d be gone for two or three days at a stretch and I’d be totally alone. I had to make my own meals and do my own laundry along with going to school.”

It was a sad story and I could only imagine how painful it must have been for her to share it with me. I reached across the table and held her hand as she continued. “Aunt Grace had a couple of jobs. One was at a department store and some of the things she had to do were to change out the displays and dress and take care of the mannequins. When they got old and worn she talked the manager into letting her have them, or at least that was what she told me, and she brought them home. In her own strange way she thought she was doing something nice and told me they were for me to play with. It started out that way, but I guess over time they sort of became my relatives, the family I didn’t really have.”

We were interrupted by our server. It took a few minutes to order food that I didn’t think either of us was in the mood to eat. When the server left I squeezed Maria’s hand and said, “If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to talk about this anymore.”

“No, it’s okay. Actually, it feels kind of good to finally tell someone.” She paused and then continued her story. “The first one my aunt brought home was the woman in the red dress. I named her Anna after a girl in a book I read who was pretty and had lots of friends. About a month later Aunt Grace brought home the cowboy. I named him Uncle Rudy after a man I saw on TV who was always in charge of things and took care of everyone’s problems. It was about six months later when she brought home Albert. I’d decided that Anna needed a big brother to look after her.” She stopped for a moment with a faraway look on her face. I couldn’t tell if she was back in her world of make-believe or still in mine.

I wanted so much to say or do something that would make her feel better but I couldn’t think of anything that would be appropriate for the place and the odd situation.

She continued. “We lived in an old house that was kind of outside of the main neighborhood so the other kids didn’t come by my house very often. I was alone a lot and it was awful. My fake family was all I had to keep me company. It was the same way through high school. When I’d make a friend and she wanted to come to my house I was too embarrassed and made up all kinds of excuses to avoid having anyone see how I lived. Fortunately, I had a really nice guidance counselor at school who tried her best to help me but there wasn’t much she could do to make my home life any different. What she did for me, though, was help me get an art scholarship to college.”

“When I left home I was hoping things would be different there. I made some friends but they lived off campus in nicer places than I could afford. When holidays came they went home to their real families and I went home to…well, I went home to mine.” There was a long pause and I waited. I knew she had more to say. “When I came to Phoenix and got my job and rented my house, I just couldn’t let go of them. Somehow, I still needed them. Weird, huh?”

Our order arrived and I was hoping it would be the cue for her to shift gears and think about happier things. Every bite of food and every sip of beer seemed to pull her thoughts from her strange past to the present. I brought up a few things that were going on at the office and even got her to smile a few times. We each ordered a second beer and things finally felt relaxed.

She looked at me with a sheepish smile. “Luke, I’m sorry that I laid all that stuff on you.”

I reached for her hand again. “Don’t worry about it. I asked you to lunch so I could get to know you better.”

She let out a quiet laugh. “And you sure got your money’s worth, didn’t you?”

Eventually, it turned into a surprisingly relaxed lunch. The drive back to her house felt totally different than the drive to the restaurant had. I walked her to the door and said, “I’d like to do this again.”

She turned toward me. Her uncomfortable expression was back. “Me too,” she said and kissed my cheek. “Call me.” I wasn’t sure if that qualified as our first kiss, but I liked it. I knew I wanted to try for a second one.

Over the course of the week we saw each other a few times at the office. I’d been thinking about her a lot and at the same time trying not to think about her mannequin relatives and the strange way she’d grown up. Everyone has a childhood to talk about but Maria’s was definitely unique. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it all.

When I saw her in the office parking lot on Friday morning, I waited for her to gather her things from her car then we walked to the door. I blurted out what I’d been thinking all week. “If you’re free tomorrow night how about dinner? There’s a new seafood place in Scottsdale I’ve been wanting to try.”

She smiled and said, “Sure,” Then suddenly her expression changed and she added, “I can meet you there, so you won’t have to drive all the way to my house.”

Her comment caught me off guard. Usually, the person doing the asking also does the driving. I couldn’t help but wonder if she said it so I wouldn’t have to see her mannequin family again. “No, I’d be happy to pick you up. In fact, I insist.”

She nodded, sighed and said, “Well…I guess that’s okay.”

I made reservations for seven o’clock and pulled into her driveway at six thirty. I’d no sooner opened the car door when I saw her hurrying toward me. Once again, she’d caught me off guard. Before I could say anything, she opened the passenger door and blurted, “Hi. I just wanted to make sure we’ll be on time.” I just shrugged and closed my door.

Our dinner date went perfectly. The food was great and we switched from our usual beer to a bottle of very nice Chardonnay. The conversation came easily. The flirtation went in both directions. The whole evening felt romantic. On the drive back to her house I wondered if she’d ask me in for a drink and if there’d be a real kiss this time. I got my answer when we pulled into her driveway. I stopped the car and she leaned toward me, pulled me close and gave me a long, deep kiss. Then she said quietly, “Luke, I’d love to ask you to stay awhile but not tonight.”

I was sure she could see the disappointment on my face but there wasn’t much I could say except, “Okay.” I opened my door but she stopped me.

“No, sit tight. You don’t have to walk me in. Maybe next time.”

Based on how well things had gone at dinner I was confused. I looked at her, we kissed again and I said, “Okay, maybe next time.”

The whole situation was one huge mixed message. I waited to make sure she got into the house then backed out of the driveway. On an impulse I circled the block and parked in front of her place. I saw the lights come on in a couple of rooms and a few minutes later Maria appeared in what I remembered as the guest room. I could see she was talking to someone. She moved to her left and I noticed Uncle Rudy’s cowboy hat. She continued to talk. I felt like a total voyeur and thought of leaving. A moment later she disappeared from view, and when I saw her return she was carrying Anna. It looked like Maria was talking to her too. I felt the same chill I’d felt that Saturday when I’d first met the mannequins. I also felt the same uneasiness about her unusual boundaries between what was real and what was imaginary.

A voice inside me told me I should run. Stop seeing her outside of work and just let her go on living in the world she’d made for herself. That was what the voice said but I couldn’t deny my feelings for her and the fact there seemed to be a romance brewing. I knew that I had to keep seeing her despite her strange version of reality.

Over the next few weeks our lunches, happy hours and dates slowly grew into a relationship. She’d agreed to share my interest in mountain biking if I indulged her passion for antique and consignment stores. Eventually we began sharing weekends at my house but never at her house. The quiet, soft-spoken woman I’d first met had slowly become a talkative, fun-loving companion. It all felt like a romance.

On a chilly Saturday morning in late November the threat of rain changed our plans from a bike ride in the hills south of town to a visit to a new antique store near her house. When I balked at the idea she said, “Please, Luke, I really need to go there.”

Yesterday Again had the expected musty smell of old wood, old fabric and old everything else. On our previous trips to other stores Maria usually headed straight to the vintage jewelry cases first but we’d no sooner stepped inside when she turned to the right and walked toward the back corner of the store. I followed behind her and asked, “What are you looking for?”

She didn’t answer but a few steps later I looked ahead and got my answer. There, on a long, rustic wooden bench sat Uncle Rudy, Cousin Albert and Anna. I was shocked to say the least. I looked at Maria, expecting an explanation, but she just stood in silence in front of the trio. The store wasn’t crowded and the quietness somehow seemed appropriate. I moved a few feet back from the bench and waited. Maria took a step forward and stopped in front of Uncle Rudy for a moment then slowly moved on to Albert and then Anna. I could see that her eyes were wet. She held her hand over her heart and with each stop she mouthed something I couldn’t hear. After a very long, silent pause she wiped her eyes and turned toward me. With her voice breaking, she said, “I love them all…but I came to say goodbye.”