Just This Once

by Judith Arnold

  Could they be friends if Solly liked Josh and Loretta hated Josh’s guts?

  Why did she hate his guts, anyway? It was her own fault that he’d flown to Florida to see Melanie. Loretta had banned all further intimacy with him. She’d said no more lovemaking, just that once was it, and she wanted them to be nothing more than friends. If she were truly his friend, she wouldn’t be fuming over the fact that he’d left town to visit his sweetheart.

  “You know what?” Solly gazed intently at her. His lips had turned red from his Italian ice. “I’m not so dumb. So let me tell you something. Josh is crazy about you.”

  “No he’s not,” she said automatically. “We’re friends, but—”

  “But he’s crazy about you. I can tell. He’s oozing with it.”

  Not the most glamorous image. Not a true one, either. Did Solly even know where Josh was?

  Thinking of him down in the Sunshine State, probably peeling an orange for Melanie right this minute and letting her eat the dripping wedges right from his fingers, plunged Loretta’s mood even lower. Josh had a girlfriend. That had always been the bottom line.

  “He’s in Florida,” she told Solly.

  “Yeah, he told me he was going. He told me he might have to cancel our usual Monday chess game, if he wasn’t back by then.”

  “So I think,” Loretta said, resuming her slow amble along the blacktopped path, “if he’s oozing over anyone, it’s Melanie.”

  “That’s what you think,” Solly said. “You think that, huh. Well, let me tell you something, Loretta. You’re the dumb one.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I got twenty-twenty vision, that’s what.”

  “You wear eyeglasses, Solly.”

  “I’m talking about here.” He thumped his chest with his fist, then squeezed some slushy ice from the bottom of his cup. “I’m talking about what the heart knows. Life is short, Loretta. Josh is crazy about you. And you’re crazy about him, and you’re both nudniks, thousands of miles apart when you should be together.”

  “I’m not crazy about him,” Loretta insisted. She wasn’t sure what a nudnik was, but she doubted being called one was a compliment.

  “How can you not be crazy about him? He’s smart, he’s handsome, he’s a gentleman, he’s a lawyer, he does good in the world—what’s not to be crazy about?”

  “He’s got a girlfriend.”

  “She’s there. You’re here.”

  “He’s there.”

  “So get him back. What’s stopping you?”

  “A thousand miles,” she muttered. “Air fare. Melanie.”

  “Air fare is just money. Miles is just miles.”

  “And Melanie is a fantastic human being, from what I’ve heard.”

  “But not for him. I never saw between them what I see between him and you. Life is short,” he repeated. “Let him know you love him.”

  “But I don’t,” Loretta argued, wishing her voice carried more conviction.

  “Right. You don’t love him like I’m a dumb asshole. Look at me, Loretta. Do I look like a dumb asshole to you?”

  “Of course not!”

  He nodded, evidently satisfied that he’d made his point. “You love him. He loves you. Somebody’s gotta be the smart one. Since Josh isn’t around, it better be you.”

  “Why do I have to be the smart one?” she complained. She drained the last of the ice from her cup. Her mouth felt rounded out inside, tangy from the bittersweet lemon flavor.

  She didn’t want to be the smart one. She wanted to pout and mope and wallow in misery until Josh returned to her, swearing he had to have her and no one else would do, not even Melanie the noble social worker. She wanted him to beg her, to insist she was the only woman in his life now and forever, and then she wanted him to make love to her the way he had last week, only she wouldn’t want him racing off in the morning.

  And she didn’t want him to say one word about how old she was, or how she’d better grab him and hang on tight because she was pretty much over the hill. She wanted him to say he thought she was the perfect age—and, while he was at it, the perfect woman.

  “You have to be the smart one,” Solly explained, “because you’re the one I’m talking to. I know about love, sweetie. I had a wonderful marriage to a wonderful woman, and I know what that’s like. You don’t ignore it. You don’t say, ‘Oy, the air fare.’ If you’re smart, you go after it and claim it.”

  Going after Josh seemed like an extraordinarily stupid move.

  Yet hadn’t Solly just said she was dumb?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “What do you mean, you want to borrow money from me?” Nicky bellowed through the phone.

  “Not ‘money.’ Just fifty bucks,” Loretta wheedled. She had enough of a balance on her credit card to cover a round-trip ticket to Florida. But a loan from Nicky would enable her to sleep tonight, if there was any chance in the world she’d be able to fall asleep now that she’d gone ahead and booked a flight to Miami, which, according to the Delta ticketing agent, was the airport closest to Opa-Locka.

  “This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” Nicky railed. “You’re telling me that guy of yours, that absolute turd, is in Florida visiting his girlfriend, and you want to go chasing after him?”

  “It’s not his girlfriend,” Loretta fibbed. “It’s his old girlfriend.”

  “Let me go instead,” Nicky volunteered. “I’ll knock his teeth in.”

  Coming from Nicky, who believed dental health was next to godliness, that was quite an offer. “I don’t want you to knock his teeth in,” she insisted. “If you want to do anything with teeth, you should fix Solly’s girlfriend’s tooth. It hardly needs anything. Just a little touch-up on the enamel. It wouldn’t take you more than a half hour.”

  “You want me to do a half-hour job on this lady and lend you fifty bucks?”

  “I’ll pay you back,” she promised. She hated begging, but she didn’t have much choice. If she’d had a choice, she wouldn’t have called Nicky—and even without a choice, she probably shouldn’t have. She should have blown her budget on the damned ticket and resigned herself to living on a diet of oatmeal and chewing gum for the rest of the summer. Or else she should have asked Donna for a loan—except that Donna was always broke, and also she’d undercharged Loretta for the haircut that morning, which was a gift right there. She could have asked Al, except that Al would have subjected her to a lecture on fiscal responsibility, and then he would have turned her down. Nicky would rant and rave for a while, but he’d say yes, which was why he was her favorite brother, even if he was what her Nona would call a rompicogliono—a pain in the ass.

  “I tell you what,” she continued when he didn’t say anything. “You can lend me fifty bucks and Al can fix Solly’s girlfriend’s tooth.”

  “You know what? I’ve had it up to here with people’s girlfriends,” Nicky fumed. “I hate the word ‘girlfriend.’ None of this would have happened if you’d listened to me and let me set you up with Marty Calabrese.”

  “You’re right, Nicky.” He was right. None of this would have happened—but she also would have missed out on something incredible. It was the possibility of missing out on something incredible that had compelled her to splurge on the ticket to Miami. If it turned out that she and Josh weren’t meant to be, she’d wind up a few hundred bucks poorer—not counting the fifty dollars she was borrowing from Nick—and maybe with a shattered heart. But not going, not finding out, not taking a chance… She’d wind up with the same shattered heart.

  She wouldn’t be hitting her brother up for money, though. She’d have a shattered heart but not the heartburn Nicky gave her.

  “How am I supposed to get this loan to you?” he asked.

  “I’m flying out of LaGuardia tomorrow at noon,” Loretta told him, tamping down her hopes. He hadn’t said yes yet. “I’ll be at the Delta terminal around ten. We could meet there.”
/>   “Right.” Nicky didn’t sound thrilled. “I’m supposed to miss church for this?”

  As if he’d never missed church before. “I’m sure God will forgive you,” she wheedled. “You’re helping out your sister—who happens to be fast approaching her thirtieth birthday and still single. And here’s this terrific guy, this live prospect, within her grasp—”

  “Who happens to be in Florida visiting his girlfriend,” Nicky broke in.

  “His old girlfriend, who may or may not be his girlfriend anymore. But I have to find out, Nicky. I have to know for sure if Josh and I should be together.”

  “You love this guy, huh?”

  “How can I not love him? He’s smart and funny and handsome, and he devotes himself to helping the less fortunate.”

  “He isn’t a dentist.”

  “I consider that a plus.”

  Nicky sighed. “So, how are you planning to get to LaGuardia?”

  “I was figuring I’d take a cab.”

  “A cab is gonna cost you fifty bucks right there,” he pointed out.

  “Why do you think I’m trying to borrow some money?”

  He sighed again. “All right. Look, I’ll pick you up at your apartment. Nine a.m. Be ready to roll. I don’t feel like looking for a parking space.”

  This was why she put up with Nicky—because beneath his silly sailor hat, beneath his bombastic exterior and his bossy, critical attitude, he was an angel. “I’ll be outside at quarter to nine.”

  “This guy better be worth it,” he grumbled. “Promise me one thing, Loretta.”

  “Anything.”

  “If he turns out to be a son of a bitch, I want you to give me permission to knock his teeth in.”

  “I’ll knock them in myself,” she assured him. “Nicky, I owe you big.”

  “You owe me fifty and a favor. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She hung up, sank into the lumpy couch cushions and let out a long breath. Fifty dollars wasn’t much, but fifty dollars and a free ride to the airport added up. She might be able to pay Nicky back, if she didn’t lose her job.

  Her job. Shit. How could she take time off from work when the threat of layoffs hung over the production team’s collective head? Well, she deserved a day or two. She’d knocked herself out on the Senior Center Love Triangle story, filming nearly every day that past week after putting in her regular hours with the team at the studio. She’d even spent weekend time today filming at the center. Surely Becky couldn’t begrudge her a couple of personal days.

  And if Becky couldn’t, if this trip to Florida was going to cost her her job, well, fuck it. Loretta had never done anything for the explicit purpose of promoting her career, and now didn’t seem like a particularly good time to start.

  She crossed to her refrigerator—a grand hike of six steps—and swung open the door. She was too jittery for ice cream, even Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy. Instead, she pulled a Sam Adams from the door shelf and rummaged in a drawer for her bottle opener. She’d bought the Sam Adams for Josh, but he was far away. Somebody ought to enjoy the beer.

  She took a long sip, but she didn’t enjoy it. Drinking Josh’s favorite beer made her realize how far away he was—and not just in miles. What if seeing Melanie had completely erased Loretta from his mind? What if he decided—as any normal human being would—that a social worker who specialized in helping people lead productive, healthy lives contributed more to the world than a hack who specialized in helping people make jackasses of themselves on a syndicated TV show? What if Loretta’s trip to Florida was a huge mistake? What if she’d gotten herself in debt to MasterCard and Nicky for nothing?

  Too late. She’d already bought the ticket. She was going.

  She carried her beer back to the sofa, flopped onto it and dialed Bob’s number. He answered, panting, on the third ring. “I’m interrupting something,” Loretta said contritely.

  “Loretta?” He breathed for a few seconds. “No problem. What?” he said, obviously to someone not on the phone. “It’s Loretta. I work with her. A colleague… No, I haven’t…” He exhaled wearily, then addressed Loretta. “We seem to be having a little snit here.”

  “It’s my fault. I’m really sorry, Bob. Put her on the phone—I’ll assure her I’ve never seen you naked.”

  “That’s all right. She’ll get over it.”

  “Is this the one whose daddy is the Deputy Undersecretary of Something?”

  “Yeah… Honey, it’s a colleague from work, okay?” he said to his companion. Then back to Loretta, “We’d better make this fast. Someone needs a lot of attention right now.”

  “Okay. I just called to let you know I’m not going to be at work Monday. So if you could tell Gilda, I’d appreciate it.”

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s just a family thing.” That wasn’t a lie; Nicky’s involvement made it a family thing.

  “Is someone sick?”

  “Physically, no. Mentally the jury’s still out. Anyway, will you cover for me on Monday?”

  “Sure. When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know. Tuesday, maybe.” Tuesday, with her tattered heart on her sleeve and Nicky’s lectures about how she should have let him set her up with Marty echoing in her skull. “Tell them I’ve got a lot of stuff to work with for the Solly show.”

  “The what show?”

  “Solly. Tell them that if they fire me while I’m gone—no, don’t plant any ideas. Just say I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

  “They’ll probably fire me for being your messenger. I’d better go. Little Miss Patriot is turning into a Patriot Missile.”

  “Apologize to her for me,” Loretta said.

  She hung up, took a long pull of beer and gazed around her. Her apartment seemed to have shrunk. She almost felt as if she could stretch out her legs and kick the rocker at the opposite end of the room, or even the wall behind the rocker. She could stretch her arms and slam her palms against the ceiling. She was going to lose her job, she was going to decimate her savings account and she was going to wind up evicted because she couldn’t afford the exorbitant rent on this minuscule apartment, and she wouldn’t be able to seek the assistance of the only lawyer she knew who could help her renegotiate her lease, because he’d pledged his troth to a Florida social worker—all because Solly had bought her a lemon ice and spoken with the wisdom of Yoda, and she’d decided to follow his advice.

  Was this the sort of behavior typical of desperate twenty-nine year old single women? No. She hadn’t wanted to fall in love. She hadn’t been even remotely interested in it, let alone anxious about marriage.

  She was doing this was because Josh was Josh. Because he was her friend. Because sex with him had been incredible, their bodies connecting as smoothly and naturally as their minds did. Because a woman had to do what she had to do, whether or not it made any sense.

  Crazy or not, she’d better pack. She had a plane to catch tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Josh staggered off the airplane and into the terminal. Flying had never been his favorite activity, but it definitely seemed to be more unpleasant these days. The man seated next to him had boarded the plane, settled into his seat and whipped out a cell phone, into which he’d yakked non-stop until the plane taxied away from the gate and the flight attendant threatened to take the cell phone from him if he didn’t put it away. The gist of his conversation, which Josh had been forced to listen to, was that a security guard in the airport had confiscated the plastic sword-shaped skewer which had held an olive in the martini he’d drunk before boarding. He’d been extremely fond of that skewer. It had been cuter than words could say. A pirate’s sword, three inches long and green. “Like I could’ve hijacked the plane with a cocktail toothpick,” he’d whined into the phone.

  But it didn’t matter. Josh was home. He’d ended things with Melanie, cleanly and honorably, and when she’d insisted that he spend the night in her guest ro
om he did. He’d heard her moving around her bedroom, heard her showering, heard the creak of her bed as she’d climbed into it—and he’d thought, Tomorrow I’ll be back in New York, convincing Loretta that even if she’d rather not have a romance in her life right now, she’s stuck with one.

  The air conditioning in New York felt better than the air conditioning in southern Florida. Less implacable, somehow. And the foliage! He was home, where trees were trees and women—at least the woman he wanted to sleep with—had hair. He was home, safe in the knowledge that Melanie hadn’t been terribly shocked or hurt by his decision to end things, that she’d seen their relationship was fading and she appreciated his having made the move to end it.

  Now all he had to do was force his way into Loretta’s heart.

  Strolling through the airport, dragging his rolling bag behind him like a dog, he pulled out his phone and dialed Loretta’s number. His call went straight to her voice mail, and he disconnected without leaving a message. Telling a woman you loved her wasn’t something you dumped on her in a voice message.

  The cab driver he got nattered in a language that wasn’t English, but he knew how to get to Greenwich Village. Josh settled into the upholstery, closed his eyes and mapped out his evening. He’d connect with Loretta and talk her into having dinner with him. Then he’d call Henri Charnier and make sure he and his family hadn’t been deported in the last twenty-four hours. Then he’d shower. Then he’d see Loretta.

  He smiled.

  Forty minutes later, the cab delivered him to his address. Outside the elevator on his floor, he ran into his neighbors, Minka and Colin, engaged in an animated conversation about a guppy Colin had just sold. “This guy’s a collector,” Colin gushed. “He’ll pay anything just to get his hands on the right guppy. I’m telling you, one little fish is going to buy me that leather jacket I saw in Prada.”