On a very rainy and unseasonably cold October Saturday afternoon Mike Torre and Tommy Mullen walked into Richmond's Five and Ten. After piling their damp sweatshirt jackets in one corner of a booth they sat down and waited for Rita to come over. Margaret was handling the counter and Rita was both making sandwiches and waiting on the handful of booth customers. As she brought an order to a little old couple she recognized the back of Tommy's head. She quickly turned on her heel and walked back behind the counter. She stood staring at her carving board, looking down at sandwich scraps. She began to feel nervous; she could hear her heart beating.
"What's wrong, sweetheart, you're all red." Margaret was standing next to her. She put her hand on Rita's shoulder.
"Jesus, you're trembling. What is going on?" Margaret looked around the little luncheon area and recognized Tommy and Mike.
"Aren't those boys Eddie's friends?"
"Ah, yeah, Mike and Tommy." Rita was a bit more composed. "Why did you react to them that way?"
"I don't know. I'm still not myself I guess. I still... I get feelings I really don't understand."
Margaret looked at the guys and looked back at Rita, now also looking in their direction.
"Do you want me to take their order?"
"No, no, I'll do it." Rita grabbed a couple of menus and walked over to Mike and Tommy.
"Hey, guys, how ya doing?"
"Hi Rita, we heard the food's pretty good here. What do you recommend?" They had decided not to do the usual "How you doing, how's everything" kind of greeting; to act as if they had just seen her this morning instead of four months ago. As Mike was doing the talking Rita had avoided looking at Tommy except for a brief second as she said hi. She continued to look at Mike. Her heart was racing again.
"Well, we've got really good burgers. I can make them up with almost any kind of cheese, with tomatoes, onions, even mushrooms. We've got chicken. Look at the menu here, there's lots of kinds." She handed one to Mike and turned to hand one to Tommy. He had his head leaning against the back of the booth and a half smile on his face. He looked hard at her, straight into her eyes. She felt a very warm sensation down to her upper thighs.
"You look terrific, kid. Looks like this place is doing pretty well. Are they treating you all right?"
"Oh yeah, it's great. I work for the same lady I used to work with at the old store. You guys met her at the wedding. She's great." Her use of the words "you guys" was somewhat out of place as she was now just staring back at Tommy.
"I'm glad you're doing okay. So like Mike says, recommend something for us. Maybe you can just make us some burger and fries platters, lots of stuff on the burgers."
"Yeah, go do your thing, Rita. You're the expert."
Mike should have but didn't notice anything unusual. He was very hungry and the smell of the food and the sound of all the food words had made him unobservant.
"Okay guys, two super burger specials coming up."
Rita put together two giant platters combining most if not all of what ingredients she had at her disposal, struggling to give any real attention to what she was doing as her mind was filled with thoughts of the handsome young man of her fantasies. She managed to serve the guys without invoking or initiating much comment and felt as if she had accomplished something (what?) by getting back to her position behind the counter. There she was able to observe them though unfortunately, not overhear anymore than their laughter. She felt very alive; she wanted to kiss him, to touch him. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. It was bliss, it was scary.
After they pounded down their platters Rita came back, outwardly composed but still very excited. With an outward calm she proposed dessert. She was much better this time in making sure to look at and address both of her husband's friends. They ordered two coffees that Rita returned with quickly. By now it was after two o'clock and they were the only patrons in a booth. Margaret was leaning over the counter talking to two very old men.
"Join us," Mike said. "Go get a cup and come back and sit down with us. There's nobody around." Rita turned to Tommy who was smiling.
"Yeah, come on, take a break."
"Okay, let me get a Coke." Rita spent all of the time it took to get the Coke and get back trying to decide who to sit next to. She finally concluded that if she sat next to Tommy the inevitable brushing of their bodies would turn her as red as she got when she first saw him. She put her drink on the table and slid in next to Mike. Small talk prevailed and for the next several minutes she did an excellent job of keeping her feelings under wraps. But as Mike was spinning a fairly long road story, Tommy began to run his shoeless foot against Rita's ankle. In a few seconds Rita's shoe was off and a world class game of footsie had begun. With just a few short interjections by the otherwise very busy Tommy and Rita, Mike got to tell every story in his modest repertoire. By three o'clock that inventory was depleted. For her part, Rita had been sexually aroused for the first time in months. Very aroused, completely aroused. The desire to touch him had been almost too much to bear but she'd won the battle. And in a few seconds Mike was saying that they had to get going and they were all standing up next to the booth. The same little extra squeeze of the hand that took place at her wedding was there as Rita and Tommy gave the perfunctory pecks on the cheek. She watched for a moment as the boys walked toward the store's exit then turned to find Margaret leaning against the counter, watching her watch Tommy and Mike.
"What the hell was that?" Margaret had a combination smile and look of bewilderment.
"What was what?"
"What was what? Are you kidding me? You know exactly what I'm talking about. The foot rubbing Rita, what the hell were you doing?"
Rita had forgotten that Margaret's view of their booth from behind the counter was unrestricted.
"Oh, we were just fooling around. We're old friends."
"Rita, you were there for about an hour and every time I looked over you guys were going at it. You also had a very, shall we say, contented look on your face. Look, it's none of my business, but if you want to talk about it I'm here." Margaret turned to go back behind the now empty counter. And there was just one booth occupied.
"Yeah, let's talk." The two friends sat side by side over a coffee and a Coke as Rita, mostly without any outward emotion, recounted her private life with Eddie since the death of their baby. She owned up to the feelings stirred that day by the minimal though highly charged physical contact with Tommy and answered Margaret's question as to if this was a spur of the moment thing. Rita told her about their innocent day at the beach and how she'd developed what she then considered a crush on the handsome young man.
"But that was over a year ago, so how can I still call it a crush?"
"And after so much has happened in your life. You're right, it's not a crush any more. How 'bout infatuation? You think you care for him; you think you want him."
"Well, what's the difference? I mean, yeah, I think I want him. Are you saying I think I do but I really don't?"
"Maybe."
"So how do I know which it is?"
"One way is to see if it goes away. But that doesn't seem to apply to you unless you stopped thinking about him for a long time and then all that's gone on recently and you're..."
Rita interrupted Margaret to tell of how, for the most part, since the beach she'd never quite been able to get him out of her mind. She told of their little flirtation on her wedding day and for the first time in her memory Rita watched the very unflappable Margaret's jaw drop.
"Okay, okay, I get the picture. How do you feel about Eddie right this minute?"
Rita sat quietly for a moment, biting her lip.
"I love him very much."
"And what do you feel about Tommy right this second?"
"I'd like to go to bed with him."
"But not Eddie?"
"No." She continued to shake her head for several seconds after her firm response.
"I've got some advice. All right?
"Please."
"Decide you're going to have sex with this guy next week. Don't tell him, just decide to yourself. Then see how you feel after a few days. Really decide to do it though, understand? Say it to yourself and really mean it. And if by next weekend you still really want to do it, then you've got another decision to make. Would it be worth it."
"I'm already scared."
"Scared enough not to still want him?"
"No."
"Let's not talk about it 'til next Friday afternoon. Deal?"
"Deal."
Questions? Comments? Please send e-mail to jbearden@ieee.org
Material Copyright © 1998-2003 by Jim Bearden