Rita tried to eat some toast for breakfast Tuesday morning but couldn't. And by the time the bus got on the ferry she was ready to throw up. Several times on that little trip she practiced the words she'd say to the bus driver, "please let me out, I've got to throw up," but each time she fought off that nasty urge. By the time she got to school she was okay, but being sick every morning for the last several days had Rita worried. In history class she counted twenty-three days (her normal cycle) on her fingers for the fourth time and again figured her period was due the next day. She was already trying to decide who to speak to if she didn't get it tomorrow, but had only succeeded in ruling people out.
Tuesday afternoons were very slow at the five and dime. Margaret and Rita used that time to clean more thoroughly, behind the counter, inside the booths and even in the storage room. Until today whatever conversation they had was polite, more about the weather and their last few customers than anything remotely personal. But Rita's question and Margaret's answer regarding her first date with Mr. Stoneman had forever changed their relationship. Almost immediately upon Rita's arrival at three o'clock Margaret began describing Saturday night with Harold in great detail. And Rita loved it. Here were two people who had worked together for nearly three years. First just a few, now twenty-nine hours per week and she had never given a second thought to her co-worker's personal life. It was as if she didn't have a personal life. Sort of like the first time you see a teacher you've had walking with a shopping basket in a supermarket. Hey, your mind says, you don't fit here, you belong in school. Only in school. Margaret and Harold had just been a part of F.W.Woolworth, not real people, but Margaret's story brought them both alive.
"So, what's your plan for your next date?" Rita asked.
"Well, before he left he asked if I'd go to a movie next weekend. If it were up to me we'd do something tonight. You know, honey, life is for living, but I sense I've got to let Harold go at his own pace. But Saturday night, I'll tell ya, that pace is gonna pick up."
They both smiled at Margaret's prediction. Then Rita made an on-the-spot decision.
"Mrs. Brodsky, I'm not due for my period until tomorrow, but I don't think I'm going to get it."
"What makes you say that, sweetheart?"
Rita proceeded to recount the mornings of nausea, the near vomiting on the ferry and, to Margaret's direct question, the possibility that Eddie had gotten her pregnant before she began using a diaphragm. Margaret, trying to respond in a non-judgmental manner, explained to Rita that she would have to wait a few days past the day it was due. "At that point, my friend Carol's sister is a gynecologist, if you'd like, I'll take you to see her."
Margaret's words both soothed and frightened Rita. She had found someone to turn to but this was starting to get serious. She decided to be an optimist and believe the next morning would be the end of this little scare.
Eddie's meeting with Mr. Burger didn't go any better than Eddie figured it would.
"Listen kid, I'm happy for you but if you're leaving for the summer you're basically leaving for good. I'll have to hire someone and unless he isn't working out there won't be a job for you when you get back. I'm sorry kid, but that's the way it is."
Not working out, Eddie thought, the guy would have to be a major loser not to be able to pack out shelves. I guess he'll make Steven the assistant grocery manager when I go and won't that be something!
Little Steven Miceli had started working at the store about two years ago, part time, when he turned sixteen. Eddie had watched him go from a little mama's boy (his mother dropped him off and picked him up every day and on many occasions walked him into the store before shopping the aisles) to a stud with a better car than Eddie's and a string of girls most of whom put Rita and her tiny body to shame). But Eddie, being the person he was, had never spoken to (not little any more) Steven and hadn't really noticed the changes until recently. And it was Rita who kept Eddie up to date on Steven's love life. "Oh, well, just think how great he'll do now that he'll have a title." Eddie smiled at his little joke and never considered he might be thinking about Steven again in the not too distant future.
The band didn't have a job on Friday night so it would be a perfect time to celebrate their good fortune. If we got our break after playing Rosco's, why not party at Rosco's, Tommy figured. He called the guys and set it up for nine o'clock. A couple of hours there and then we'll move on and pop into some of the other million or so bars in Sag Harbor was the consensus.
When Eddie told Rita about Friday night and the celebration at Rosco's, she was nodding okay but already thinking about Maryann. Their relationship in school during the week was improving and with two days until Friday, Rita was hopeful she could get things back to normal with her best friend by then.
Thursday required Rita to be in school only until eleven o'clock. With her tests long over, she was into that time at the end of each school year where every day is different and every day is a waste of time, that is if they want you in at all. She'd be off Friday, come in Monday for yearbooks and not come in again until Thursday, June 18th to return all of her schoolbooks. This was now beach season for kids Rita's age, but having a boyfriend working full time prevented Rita from taking part in many of those outings. With no school Friday and not being due at the store until three o'clock, Rita decided to go with a group of (mostly) boys to the beach. The north side beach, Silver Beach was, for the most part private but the southern beach (no name, just known as the beach) was public and that's where everyone went.
Rita was in front of the hardware store at nine-thirty, part
of a large group waiting for a few more faces and one more car.
By nine-forty-five, it was decided that everyone worth waiting
for had gotten there and that five cars could easily transport
thirty-three people the three and a half miles to the beach.
People piled into the cars with no rhyme or reason and Rita found
herself the last person stuffed into a familiar looking car. She
was in the front seat of Tommy Mullen's immaculate 1972
Oldsmobile Cutlass, sitting on the lap of big Ronnie Saverese, an
offensive lineman on the Greenport High football team. He was
well over six feet tall and way over three hundred pounds. In
fact, his thighs were so big Rita had to duck her head to prevent
it from hitting the top of Tommy's car. Even so, every bump Tommy
hit meant Rita's head would bang against the roof. Of course,
this was a source of hysterical laughter for everyone in the car
except Rita and Tommy. He apologized every time they hit a bump
and asked her how she was doing nine times in the five-minute
trip. Upon arriving at the beach, Tommy got out, helped Rita off
Ronnie Sevarese's enormous body and asked her, for the tenth
time, how she was. But this time he did it with an arm around her
and finished it with an invitation to sit on his blanket.
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Material Copyright © 1998-2003 by Jim Bearden