A Way to Get By

by T. Torrest

  Maybe I was overreacting. Eddie probably just didn’t want to deal with the pressure of our friends’ unyielding questions, as evidenced by the fact that as soon as those two got wind of our separation, they immediately stepped in to play Marriage Counselors. I felt pretty guilty going into the night knowing there was nothing they could say or do to repair things.

  The divorce was going to happen.

  CHAPTER 7

  Pressure

  EDDIE

  Monday, September 22

  1980

  So I was wearing a suit. So what. Is it so wrong that I wanted to make Brenda drool? She bought the damn thing for me, the only expensive suit I owned. Dark, charcoal gray, suitable for weddings and funerals, which were the only two places I’d ever need to wear it. Although, I guessed it worked just as well for torturing my soon-to-be ex-wife.

  The separation was her idea, after all. Of course it was.

  I would have been perfectly happy living out the rest of my days wrapped up in her arms. But when you have a marriage where only one person is invested in making it work, it can’t work. No matter what I said to convince her otherwise, Bren dug her heels in and refused to budge.

  “We’re doing this,” she finally said. Just like that. Like it wasn’t even worth talking about anymore. Just pulled my ratty old Samsonite out of our closet and asked me to start packing.

  I guessed it was her decision to keep the apartment, too.

  The irony is, after all her talk about never having any money, I’d holed myself up at The Norman Inn. The place was an overpriced, brand new, luxury B&B but I didn’t feel the least bit guilty charging my credit card to pay for the extravagance.

  The money would be there to cover it soon enough.

  * * *

  The smell of onions and boiled meat punched me in the face as I walked through the front door of Tony and Ginny’s house. It was the kind of food-perfume that was strong enough to permeate any porous substance within a twenty-mile radius. Although, if I’m going to be honest, my mouth was already watering for the pot roast I assumed was on the menu. I also assumed I was going to have to get my suit dry-cleaned in order to abolish the smell.

  Their house was a simple, brick, cookie-cutter cape right down the street from the restaurant; their neighborhood was a suburban paradise. The men who lived there worked nine-to-five jobs while the women stayed home with their two-point-five children, tended to their gardens, and had a hot dinner waiting on the table when their husbands got home from a long, hard day.

  In other words, picture-perfect enough to make me want to barf.

  Tony and Ginny broke the mold, though. Restaurant hours were hardly nine to five, and while Ginny enjoyed cooking and gardening, she had no children to tend to. Not yet, anyway. But I knew Mrs. Leone had been pressuring them to tell her “some good news” practically since their wedding day, and I could only imagine there’d be a dead rabbit soon enough. In the meantime, she staved off the lonely evenings doing volunteer work for the church.

  The very church where Bren and I were married.

  “There he is!” Ginny offered with a huge smile as I entered the kitchen. Under the circumstances, she was trying her best to be cheerful. Too cheerful, if you ask me. Nevertheless, I slipped an arm around her waist to kiss her hello. Ginny was a lip-kisser, and we’d known each other for so long that I didn’t even find it odd anymore. I didn’t think twice as I went to plant one on her, only for her to offer me her cheek at the last second.

  Huh.

  For all her theatrical joyfulness, I got the impression she wasn’t feeling quite so affectionate toward me that night. I wanted to scream It’s not my fault! but I couldn’t open that can of worms. Yes, Ginny was my friend. But she was Brenda’s best friend. I knew where her loyalties needed to lie.

  Her husband, however, was strictly on Team Eddie.

  At least he’d better be.

  Tony barreled through the back door, greeting, “Hey man,” before rifling through the fridge. He came up with two bottles of Lowenbraü and handed one to me.

  “Thanks. Hey, sorry, I didn’t even think to grab a bottle of wine or something.”

  Tony waved me off. “Nah. You never show up empty-handed. I think we’ll give you a pass. We’ve got plenty here.”

  “Yeah. I guess I was distracted tonight.”

  Ginny shot her husband a quick, worrisome glance. We all knew why I was distracted. It was the whole reason I was there, for godsakes. May as well address the elephant now; it’ll be stampeding through here in a matter of minutes anyhow.

  “How are you with all this, Eddie?” Ginny asked with legitimate concern.

  Before I could stop myself, my voice barked out, “How the fuck do you think I am?”

  There was an awkward silence as Tony slowly put his beer on the counter, crossed his arms, and shot a warning look at me. “I’ll give you exactly ten seconds to apologize to my wife.”

  I ran a hand through my hair as the air drained from my body. Just because Bren was tormenting me didn’t mean I needed to be rude to Ginny. “You’re right. I had no right to speak to her that way.” I turned toward my childhood friend and offered genuinely, “I’m sorry, Gin.”

  Ginny met my eyes in empathy before wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. “It’s okay. We’re all feeling a little uptight about this whole thing.”

  I hugged her back. “Yeah, well, my pants are feeling a little uptight. Jesus, Ginny, when did your tits get this big?”

  I shot a wink at Tony who just dropped his head chuckling. This was the kind of relationship the four of us have always had. You can’t grow up together for twenty years without busting a few chops.

  In any case, my comment succeeded in jogging Ginny out of her anxiety and brought us back to our normal banter. She pulled back laughing, then smacked me across my arm. “You’re so bad, Eddie!”

  I wiggled my eyebrows at her blushing face as my teeth made a welcome appearance. It was the first authentic smile I’d cracked since Bren and I separated.

  And then it immediately disappeared as she walked through the door.

  Like me, Bren didn’t bother to knock before swooping into the house, and the sound of her footsteps coming closer caused a panic to shoot down my spine. Trying to appear casual, I took a huge swig off of my beer… but I almost choked on it when I saw her rounding the corner.

  The Fucking Red Dress.

  Jesus. Looked like Bren was pulling out all the stops for the occasion. She knew it, too.

  “Hi guys,” she chirped, as if tonight were no different than any other Fab Four Monday night get-together. She kissed Tony and Ginny hello but stopped short when she found herself face to face with me. There was a tense second where I thought she might have actually come in for a kiss—pure habit, mind you—but I halted her advance when I saluted her with my bottle instead. “You’re looking good tonight, Bren.”

  She flipped her perfectly-coiffed Farrah curls over her shoulder and returned formally, “You too, Eddie. I always said you looked great in that suit.”

  There was a quick spark in her eyes which made me want to haul her into my arms and drag my lips against hers. Take her into that back bedroom and strip that fucking dress off her perfect body, run my mouth along every inch of her, not stopping until she was screaming my na—

  “Can I get you a drink?” Tony asked, breaking my train of thought. Good thing. I was three seconds away from getting a hard-on in his kitchen.

  Bren tore her amused gaze from my face and answered, “I’d love a glass of wine if you’ve got a bottle opened. Otherwise, I’ll have a beer.”

  Ginny grabbed a wineglass from the cabinet next to the sink. “Of course we’ve got a bottle opened! What do you think I’ve been drinking all night?” When she went to pour some out, all of two drops of Bordeaux found their way into Bren’s glass. “Oops. Anthony, I think you need to uncork another one. This one must’ve sprung a leak.”

  For the second time that night, an
easy laugh was shared between us.

  Just like old times.

  CHAPTER 8

  You Oughta Know by Now

  BRENDA

  Monday, November 10

  1969

  “I mean it, Virginia! We’re really through this time!”

  Ginny was trying to keep herself from smiling as she said, “Yeah, I’m sure this time, your breakup will really take.”

  My best friend stared me down across the cafeteria table as if I were a petulant child, which was really starting to irritate me. Sure, Eddie and I had experienced a chaotic start to our relationship, but I was positive all that turmoil was in the past. How come she couldn’t see how serious this was? “He was late for our anniversary dinner!”

  Ginny jabbed her fork into her baked ziti before pointing it at me. The gooey noodle levitated on its harpoon between us as she fired back, “It was your one month anniversary, and you can hardly blame him for being late. His car got a flat tire and he had to run the last mile to your house!”

  “He wasn’t running because he was concerned about being late for dinner. He only ran because he was trying to get laid quicker.”

  “And that is insulting to you because…”

  “Because we’ve only been together one month!”

  Somehow, Eddie had gotten it into his head that I’d planned the fancy dinner to make our evening special. Not because I wanted to celebrate our anniversary, but because I’d changed my mind about sleeping with him. The thing was, I just wasn’t ready. Maybe taking someone’s virginity was no big deal to him—Lord knows he’d done it enough times to countless other girls—but giving it was a big deal to me.

  I thought he understood that.

  “He’s gone to bed with plenty of other girls in a lot less time than that,” she huffed.

  “Well, I’m not one of them.”

  “Obviously.”

  Her answer was delivered a little too matter-of-factly for my tastes. My defenses were up as I asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ginny rolled her eyes and explained, “You did tell him your parents weren’t going to be home until very late.”

  “So?”

  “And you did tell him you wanted to ‘celebrate.’”

  I got where she was going, but my righteous indignation was still firmly in place as I snipped, “With a nice dinner! Which, I’ll remind you, was cold by the time he got there.”

  She lowered her fork and raised an eyebrow. “The dinner may have gone cold, but from what I heard, Eddie was all fired up.”

  I finally understood what my best friend was trying to tell me. “So… what? It’s my fault for leading him on? Just because we had a rare night with the house to ourselves, he assumes that means we’re going to sleep together?” Ten seconds after Eddie had made his way inside the house, he was pawing at my body and trying to lead me upstairs. I resisted, and a big, hairy fight had broken out between us. I thought he was moving too fast. He thought I was leading him on.

  “Look, Brenda,” she said through a sigh. “You can’t really blame him; it’s just who he is. I’m not saying it’s right, but how many girls have you ever known to pass up the opportunity to sleep with him?”

  “That’s part of the problem,” I grumbled.

  My friend offered me a sympathetic smile. She knew I was scared enough about losing my virginity. But losing it to Wilson Joel Edwards was positively terrifying. The boy had done it with everyone from Staten Island to Cape May. Aside from Ginny, I was practically the only female left on the eastern seaboard he hadn’t slept with. And trust me, Eddie was well aware of that actuality. He was already starting to get frustrated with me. It felt like Terry Wilmington all over again. I was sure Eddie was only minutes from dumping me for a faster girl.

  “It’s only a problem if you make it one. I happen to think you’re amazing for not falling into bed with him like every other girl in this school.” She said that last part a bit too loud, and the table of cheerleaders to my left all lifted their heads to aim dirty looks at her. She gave a huff and fired back, “Yeah, you heard me. Every one of you!”

  I almost choked on my deviled ham sandwich. “Ginny!” I whisper-shouted. “We do not need to get jumped by the entire female population of this school. I’m already on their bad side as it is.”

  That was the truth. I’d never received more scathing glares or more snide comments in my life than I had in the past four weeks. And why wouldn’t I? I was the evil witch who pulled their favorite piece of meat off the market.

  The thought had me smiling. I did that. Me. Brenda Rinetti.

  Eddie may have been with countless girls, but I was the only one he ever asked to be his girlfriend. Maybe I was doing something right after all.

  As if to confirm my thoughts, Eddie swooped into the cafeteria at that exact moment. Every female head turned—they always did—as he strutted down the side aisle, his eyes darting around for mine. When he spotted me, the most broken look played out across his gorgeous face as he weaved through the tables toward me, eventually dropping to his knees at my feet. “Baby. I’m sorry.”

  I was feeling self-conscious about the many eyes surreptitiously turning in our direction.

  Everyone was watching. And they were listening.

  “Eddie, please. Let’s not do this here.”

  “Do what?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my waist, causing me to drop my banana. “I can’t go on like this. You’ve been avoiding me all morning. When we talked yesterday, I knew you were still mad at me, and now today, you’re proving it. Baby, please tell me we’re not over.”

  At those words, it was as if the entire cafeteria leaned in closer to hear my reaction. Every girl was hoping I’d confirm the breakup while every guy was panicked at the thought.

  I looked down at Eddie, on his knees, his head buried in my pleated skirt. Always so dramatic, this boy. Although, I guess I had a flair for theatrics myself. I twirled my fingers in his unruly hair and added a bit of quaver to my voice as I said, “You really hurt me, Eddie.”

  He looked up at me, those blue-green eyes broken and pleading. “I know. It’ll never happen again. I’ll never just assume you’re ready; I’ll wait for you to tell me. I can wait, I swear. I’ll wait forever if I have to. I love you, Bren.”

  My throat constricted at his admission. We’d been crazy about each other for three years, officially going steady for four weeks, but we’d never said that before. “You… You do?” I asked, perfectly stunned and dumbfounded. “And you tell me for the first time here?” I added, more than a little dispirited.

  That made a wide smile crack his gorgeous features. “Yes, here. I want everyone to know.”

  Before I knew what was happening, his body brushed by my seated form as he stepped up onto the table. His booming voice carried across the expansive room as he broadcasted, “You hear that, everyone? I just told Brenda I loved her! Let me make sure all of you in the back got that. I. LOVE. BRENDA. RINETTI!”

  As the entire cafeteria exploded in laughter and applause, I clamped a hand over my mouth. I was thrilled by his pronouncement but that didn’t mean I wasn’t mortified. “God, Eddie! Get down!” I laughed, tugging at the cuff of his pants.

  He shot me a wink and continued bowing to his fans. But instead of getting down, he grabbed my hand and hauled me onto the table with him. Before I could object to such craziness, he pulled my face to his and branded his mouth to mine. The clapping got even louder once it was joined with some hooting and hollering, and even still, I was able to tune it out to get lost in Eddie’s kiss.

  He slipped his hand around to the back of my neck, holding my gaze fixed to his. For all his showiness, the next words were spoken low enough for only me to hear. “I love you like crazy, Bren. Stay with me forever.”

  I saw the sincerity in his eyes, felt the emotion pouring out of his soul. All that time, I thought he wasn’t willing to wait for me to give myself over to him. Turned out, he didn’t want to wait to give
himself over to me. “Yes, Eddie, I love you too. You and me. Forever.”

  Those ten words earned me another heart-shredding kiss. I thought we’d never stop, but Mr. Sasso had beelined over to our table to handle the situation with his typical Lawng Island charm. “Okay theah, love birds, this isn’t Woodstock. Brender… Edwids…” he said in his native New York accent. “That was very impressive. But I gotta ask ya to get down awff the table now, please.”

  I tore my mouth from Eddie’s, completely mortified. It was bad enough that we were making out in front of the entire student body, but it was completely humiliating to do it in front of the teachers. How embarrassing!

  The applause had petered out anyway, so Eddie hopped off the table before clamping his hands on my waist to help me down. Thank God he did. That was one heck of a kiss and I was feeling pretty dizzy.

  We escaped down the hallway Fugitive-style, trying to find a private moment away from prying eyes. Our admission in the cafeteria was a pretty monumental deal, and we wanted to bask in our words a little while longer.

  Stolen kisses under the stairwell turned into Eddie’s hands groping under my Oxford. Not only did I let him do it, I let him do a whole lot more in the backseat of his car later that night.

  People didn’t call him Fast Eddie for nothing.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Night is Still Young

  EDDIE

  Monday, September 22

  1980

  “The pot roast is fantastic, Gin,” I offered, trying to keep the conversation light. The four of us were having a pleasant enough evening, which was surprising, given the nature of this particular dinner.

  But I figured the longer we dragged out the small talk, the longer Bren and I could avoid answering any questions about our separation. I just wasn’t ready for the Spanish Inquisition that was surely coming.