“Deal.” Tiffany said in response as she grabbed her phone and began to track down Sarah. After much typing back and forth Sarah too agreed to the Wednesday night outing, but as she put it “only for a little bit.”
Wednesday night in DC
Donna entered the theater, she bought a ticket to the 7:35 show and headed to the popcorn stand, ordered a medium and a large bottled water. She wondered the long neon lit plaster and faux marble hallways and rounded the corner into theater number 7. She sat midway up, just left of center in the row. In a way, she felt dirty, like she was doing something forbidden, she was on the other side of town, in a place 30 minutes out of her way. She shut off her “regular” cell phone. Checks the coverage on her new phone, set it to vibrate and tucked it under her right thigh incase it rang so she could feel it. She’s casual, a knee length summer skirt, a faded yellow polo and a fleece pull over in case she got cold, staring mindlessly at the pre-show trivia questions on the screen she stopped to notice the people who were filtering in around her. She worried that he wouldn’t show, she worried that she might run into someone she knew from somewhere who will question why she’s where she is. The fears weren’t at all rational, she was not on parole and not in place she wasn’t supposed to be. She was a grown woman, in a newer movie theater, in a middle class neighborhood, worrying passed the time, it’s just now 7:15. Five minutes of sitting and wondering, where is he? He showed up at exactly 7:20 entering the theater and noticed her hair was pulled back into a pony tail, she looked almost collegiate. She looked to her right as he entered the row. She wasn’t early because she had miscalculated the time, or expected delays or had fears of being late. She was early because she wanted a few minutes to talk before the show began. Nothing serious, nothing upsetting, or pressing or particularly urgent. She just wanted to talk, about something or nothing or whatever, in the end it really didn’t matter. “I was worried you weren’t coming” she said only half joking, she did worry when she was the first one anywhere, it didn’t matter that she was ridiculously early, she always thought someone else should be there with her, as stupidly early as she was. With out pausing he said, “I’m on time, fifteen minutes early, Lombardi time!” Looking at him with a mocking disdain, he went on to explain what Lombardi times was and how it started with players being late for the bus on road trips and all the stupid details behind the story. She knew what Lombardi time was, didn’t most of the world, but it didn’t matter they were talking, it wasn’t important, it wasn’t insightful, but it was what she wanted the simple exchange of words between them. “Phone”, she said as the lights dimmed. And just as she spoke his regular phone rang, it was Christy. He answered… “At the movies.” Then he listened, “It’s starting can I call you later?” he listened again “Ok, give me a few hours, it’s starting.”. Donna just rolled her eyes, she knew who it was and she knew what she wanted, to know where he was, “She can’t stand losing control.” Donna stated.
“Losing control, over what my free time? In the rare case that I have any.” The husker grumbled. “I’m a grown man for Christ’s sake, even Ashcroft snuck out from time to time to watch the Simpson’s.” The truth is that John Ashcroft was a huge Simpsons fan, he would tape the episodes and play them late at night in his office for himself and whatever other staffers didn’t want to go home. “Shush, the movie’s starting.”
Mean while Christy poured over his calendar, while across town he set both of his phones to vibrate, then decidingit was best to simply turn the regular phone to off. He finally settled in next to her, his knee gently touching hers, his right leg and her left touching ever so slightly from knee to calve. Mean while Christy stared at his online schedule and tried to figure out what “out” meant from 6:30 on that day, typically Robert was so much more detailed than that. Perhaps it was time to call Mommy, this was too much of a change and she was worried. Much like Donna, Christy worried about things she shouldn’t have, but not out of concern or doubt, but out of her need to know and control things. Things that she didn’t necessarily need to know and in truth had no right to have control over.
After 20 minutes of previews and a ninety minute movie, the couple had laughed through, perhaps laughing mostly at times that were not particularly funny or meant to be laughed at. They headed for their cars. The husker walked her to hers, kissed her a familiar gentle kiss good night. Not the kind of lurid post movie groping of a younger couple or anyone in the throes of passion, but the kind a husband who still is very much in love with his wife would give when leaving for a while. It had been years since she had been kissed that way, she worried, was he thinking of things she wasn’t, did he feel for her in ways she didn’t want to feel for him, did he intend things that she had no desire for? For him it was just a kiss, it was only a kiss. More affectionate than with mere acquaintances, appropriate for lovers in the early stages of their relationship, most likely not, but he had far less carnal needs on his mind. Mother had called the new phone twice during the movie and he suspected he knew why. “I’ll call you later. OK?” he asked.
“Sure,” Donna replied with a tentative tone, why was he asking of he could call her they were beyond that stage in life and relationship
“Look I’ve got to deal with something before it gets out of hand.” He said, “My mother called the new phone twice during the movie, I think I know why and I’m not happy.” “OK, call me later” and with that he kissed her one last time and slowly removed his arms from around her not really wanting to let go. She didn’t know what she wanted, it was getting complicated quickly, but instead of a wife, it was a coworker and a mother getting in the mix. Donna would head home, remembering to turn her regular phone on halfway there.
Around the same time Tiffany and company showed up at Ozio, there was a jazz/blues band in the background and Nadrea and a few friends were sitting around a table. Drinking Martini’s, she had already had several by the time the girls arrived. It was a mixture of Nadrea’s party friends and passersby’s in a lifestyle that left many drowning in its wake. Nadrea was to the DC party scene what Andy Dick is to celebrity deaths. Often she was the last one to see many of them alive in the form they were best known for. Dick had been with River Phoenix, Chris Farley and a few others before they bought the farm. In her own rite Nadrea kept a steady flow of people running to rehab and back to their miserable boring lives in the suburbs while trying to salvage pieces of their tarnished reputations, relationships, and shattered lives.
“Greetings ladies,” Tiffany was in a tight baby doll T-dress, jeans and heels, Steph in a short skirt showing off her long tan legs and a top that while covering her nipples, didn’t really cover her breasts plunging it’s v cut to mid stomach, Sarah in club clothes, tight pants high, high heels and a flowing loosely cut top. “Martini’s are like breasts. Two are ok, but three is too many,” one of the party goers said. To which Nadrea said, “The more tits the better. That’s like saying a little dick is better than big one!” The girls ordered up drinks, Nadrea hadn’t expected three, she expected a roommate or a boyfriend type, no problem, the more the merrier. The ladies who knew their way around the block to a certain extent, piqued the interest of a few of the men and Nadrea, the remainder of the crowd was borderline main stream and indifferent. Jazz played and they drank, at one point someone asked the name of the band, “Smooth Grooves or something like that.” Steph couldn’t tell if they were serious or not, turns out the band’s name was nothing like smooth grooves although that is what they played, no one knew their name it was all just background noise, nothing more and nothing less, merely window dressing.
In his car across town the husker was calling home, he had to put a stop to it, but needed to keep his relationship secret, or at least secret to those around him in DC.
“Hello”
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Robert. Why?” This was where he had to commit to a direction and stick with it.
“You, called twice in a relatively short time an
d didn’t leave a message.” Pausing to allow her to prepare a response and just when he expected her to speak he continued “I know Christy called you!” He said in a stern tone “because she doesn’t know where I am or what I’m doing.” Mother began to fumble and deny they had spoken. The husker just let her ramble. “Mom you started calling 30 minutes after I hung up with her, it is not a coincidence.” Mother still denied that was why she was called. “Alright mom, you need to know? Fine I was on a date! A date that is now over, because you couldn’t keep out of it. Christy can’t know because she’ll get in the middle just like last time! So, keep it to yourself.”
“A date? Really?” she asked, no response was given, he was silent. “How long have you been seeing her?” Now was his chance, he could lie and cover the earlier time in question “It was our second time, Sunday was the first.” His mother was thrilled and ready to shove him down the aisle if the woman he was dating was willing to go along with it. “Mom I’d love to chat, but I told her I’d call her in a little while. I need to go do that.” He knew his mother couldn’t be trusted with a secret unless she believed she was the only one who knew, she believed it. But like so many mothers anxious to marry off their children and have more grandchildren she pushed for details, all he would give up was she was not from a big city, this was important to mother, she had a career, this was less important and might impede the whole hurry up and get married idea mother had, and several other benign details of life. 45 minutes later his phone was dying, mother was thrilled and Christy was all but sabotaged, “If Christy calls tell her you have no idea what I’m doing, but I had said something about taking up rowing.”
“Rowing why rowing?”
“Because she’d never be able to find me out on the river, and would eventually stop looking. People row very early, all through the mornings on the weekend and occasionally after work, it will be a good cover.” He finally ended the call and went inside for the night, he called Donna to set up for Friday.
Back at the bar, Nadrea has determined that she is not the only one of the group of new friends with a similar orientation, but the girls are young early twenty’s. They are drunk and what was that about three martini’s being too many. The conversation turned to men and sex, she was despite it being a calm night, very much in her element.
Around the same time, Vincent stepped out of the cab from National after numerous delays on both ends, Nadrea was admiring Steph’s low cut blouse, Tiffany was discussing her piercings and Sarah had her own plans for Joe later that night.
Thursday Morning
Nadrea was up with the sun and in the office early despite being out the night before. She lingered only for a few flushed and heated seconds on yesterday. Instead the very name of the day had become her albatross. She started the day by telling herself that there was no way she would show up tonight, the stupid fag probably wasn’t even going to be there. The morning ground on, crawling at a snail’s pace. It was one of those days when there was more than enough work to do and she wasn’t the least bit interested in any of it. Reading a section of this and moving to another not necessarily related document. She couldn’t focus, and when it came right down to it, she just moved paper from one pile to another and back again. Every time she looked at her calendar, her watch, her phone, or the paper there it was staring at her the word Thursday, she had seen sixteen hundred and sixty four of them by her last birthday.
The Husker arrived at his office as always, but after a waterfront run, part of the boating cover perhaps or maybe he really did want to join a rowing team. Another step toward having a life. He entered and acted like nothing ever happened, Christy sitting there still pissed that he hadn’t called back. Fact of the matter was that he didn’t even turn his regular phone back on until after his run that morning. Essentially he had fallen off her grid of control and his self appointed keeper was not at all happy about it. He pretended not to notice, he didn’t need to pretend not to care about her mood, because he didn’t. In fact he didn’t care, not even one little bit, she had crossed the line. Perhaps he took his run by the river because someone else did that on occasion. It was a school boy move to get a few seconds of time as a passing coincidence, should the opportunity present itself.
Vincent sat at his desk, his cufflinks banged off the desk as he spruced up his touches on the first approach for the next acquisition, and the final words on the events of the day before. His top button was unbuttoned, a white shirt with crossing alternating shades of blue stripes. The place, as always, was a buzz about this deal and that deal, who was doing what to whom and with whose money. The smell of greed filled the air, preying on the dreams and sweat and life of others, capitalism at work. Vincent thought of Deb, it was too early to call, even if it had been later he would have never dialed the phone, it simply isn’t like him to call a friend to chat. Unlike Nadrea’s day, Vincent’s was flying by, she had not crossed his mind for even a passing second since stepping into the street Sunday night.
Donna checked her email looking for a response from Paul, not a call, not a line, perhaps it was more false panic. As the day wore on by mid afternoon Nadrea had come to the conclusion that she might stop by, dressed to kill and show the moron what a good time he had missed. Yes, that was it, her job was to become the vile temptress, and leave the boy wanting more, never to be seen again. So, as the work day ends she headed home, to make the all important decision of what to wear.
She stood in front of her closet full of play and party clothes, no impression of a preppy Librarian. So what would catch the mans fancy? Fetish clothes might scare him off, so began the ritual of trying on this and that, strutting in front of her dressing mirror, a quick lift or lower, a twist of the hair here or there. A tight red dress with matching heels, no not quite right, and so the parade went on from one outfit to the next until she came to the school girl, short plaid skirt, white blouse that was just a bit too thin allowing the occasional glimpse of flesh through the material. Untucked and wrinkled, her long dark hair in loose pig tails dangling to the side. “Ahh,” she thought to herself, “we have a winner.” It was on her part a good call, after all what jock not to mention one whose youth is fleeting doesn’t want to do the prom queen? Time to finish the look, 3 inch black heels that screamed slut, providing height and the leg lengthening benefits while being mostly revealing straps, a white lace push up bra for a little extra cleavage for her barley buttoned blouse and painted on makeup. Once she had decided to go with the high end school girl routine the musical back drop of modern hits was changed to the classic Alice Cooper tune “Schools Out.” One piece to go, panties for such small delicate things they always warranted as much serious thought as the rest of the outfit. So what would it be a g-string, white silk or thong. Instead it was a close shave and fresh air. What boy doesn’t dream of a panty-less, shaved school girl, a gay one, even the dorks, and hapless losers wanted what she was putting together.
Not far from the bar Vincent slipped into his fading Levi’s, his oldest, most creased pair of Madden lace ups and a brown T-shirt. After all it was Thursday and he had plans, not necessarily plans that he knew about, his plans were entirely different. He needed a second shave for the day, he didn’t shave sporting a five o’clock shadow that it would take most men a day and a half to get. His hairs started the day perfectly parted but his post workout shower let it fall where it wanted after quickly towel drying it. For all the thought that Nadrea put into her choices and for all her intentions his were the polar opposite, not caring what others thought of his look at that point in that day.
Typically she decided to arrive at things fashionably late, but she decided that only a few minutes after seven would send the message. Vince was sitting comfortably at the end of the bar drinking a coke by six forty five. He was talking to the well dressed patrons and Steve was still there but not working, he was just hanging around washing away his day with mineral water, mathematically brilliant, but not exactly a party animal.
At two
minutes to seven Vincent began his farewells for the evening and started toward the door, a few minutes later Nadrea strolled through the door. She walked right up to him while his back was toward the door talking to one person or another, came up behind him and without waiting for a pause in the conversation ask if he was ready for dinner. “Another night out with daddy?” was Vincent’s response.
“No, this is all for you. I wanted to change the first image you had of me.” She said playfully.
“How by reminding me how hard it was to get laid in high school? Girls dressed like that left me with blue balls on more than a few occasions.” He said sharply, she couldn’t tell if he was playing or not, had she inadvertently hit a nerve. “So which one are you really? The sultry librarian or the cock tease school girl?”
She played with her pig tails and stood turning her feet outward in an awkward school girl kind of way “That’s for you to find out Vin.”
“Not really that interested, but I’m going to have some dinner. Care to join?”
She was fuming, not interested, she was sure he was playing, there wasn’t a man in the place who hadn’t noticed her. “So what is that on your shirt?” she asked no longer in her playful character as she had intended to stay in.
“It’s a diagram of the molecular structure of Caffeine.” He said not at all stunned by the question, in fact for the first time in their two short meetings she seemed almost genuine. “So let’s grab a table.” She said back into her character and standing closer to him as not to be ignored. Now directly in front of him and adjusting her immodestly buttoned blouse for his benefit.
It Had Been Years Page 8