Chapter 6

 

A VIRTUE

 

 

 

Larry dropped the phone.  This was not happening.  “Larry, Larry,” the muffled voice was coming from the phone on his lap.  He retrieved it quickly.

 

“Sorry, dropped the phone.”  He felt his pulse begin to race.  “What did you say?”

 

“I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the movie tonight.  If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

 

“No, I was actually just thinking about getting dinner.  Haven’t eaten all day.”  Why did he say that?

 

“Well, if you want we could get something to eat first.”  What did she just say?  “Or we could just get something to eat, that is if you want to.”  It was her turn to babble.  “Look, why don’t we just do this during the week.  I don’t want to . . .”

 

“No, no, I’d really like getting dinner first.”  It was his turn to cut her off.  “I’m not exactly dressed for it right now.  I’ll need some time to get ready.”  For the first time this week, the words were coming out easily.

 

“That sounds great.  I really wanted to unpack and take a quick shower.  I was on the road for a long time today.  That much time alone in a car sure gives you the opportunity to think.”  She seemed to want to say something else, but stopped herself.

 

Larry looked at his clock.  “How about I pick you up in an hour.”

 

“Let’s say an hour and a half.  And I’ll pick you up.  I might as well get some use out of this rental.”

 

“Do you need directions?  Get a piece of paper.”

 

“I’m fine.  Remember you drove me past it a few times.”

 

“Okay, I’ll be outside waiting for you then.”  Was that hunger or anxiety he was feeling?

 

“No, no, no.  I want to come up and see that ‘museum’ you’re always talking about.”

 

Definitely anxiety.  He looked around the room.  “In that case, you better make it a week.  No, more like a month.”

 

She laughed.  “Come on, it can’t be that bad.  I’ll see you in ninety minutes.”

 

“Sure.”  Now he was outright petrified.  He waited until he heard her hang up the phone and jumped out of the chair.  “Shit!”  There was only one solution.  The spare room was basically empty.  It housed a pullout couch (for visitors), his computer set-up, and a television-VCR combo.  He gathered up as much mail and miscellaneous items he could carry and tossed them into the spare room.  Next went the dirty clothes.  He had to hurry.  He, too, wanted to shower before their evening began.  It only took a few minutes to move everything necessary from the living room.  He sat down, exhausted.  The carpet could use a vacuuming but it would pass.  Dusting wasn’t an issue either.  Having every surface covered with crap has its benefits.  However, now that he had removed most everything from those surfaces, he could see little outlines of dust.  He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen and wiped down anything that looked dusty.  He glanced in the hall bathroom.  Still spotless from the last time his folks visited.  He never used the bathroom so he could keep it hermetically sealed between guests.  All he needed was to hang up a few hand towels and check the toilet paper level.  “This is too easy,” he thought.

 

Then he walked into the bedroom.  “I want to see that ‘museum’ you’re always talking about.”  The words rang in his ears.

 

He looked around at the toys, books, magazines, overflowing trashcan, piles of clothes, unmade bed.  “Shit, this is the museum!”  Ten trips to the spare room later the museum was, well, presentable.  He looked around the room to make sure he felt comfortable having someone in there.  An object on the nightstand caught his eye.  It was a glass from his Batman collection housing a single, slightly wilting, rose.  He considered removing it but decided not to.  “She has no idea what the significance is.”  He glanced at the clock again.  He had thirty-five minutes before she arrived.  “Just enough time to shower, shampoo, shave, brush my teeth, and beat my body with frankincense and myrrh.”  It was an expression he had used since his teens.  He had no idea what it meant, but that never stopped him.  “Oh, yeah, and I should probably get dressed.

 

He looked in the closet to find something to wear.  She had always complimented him on that suit but that would be overkill.  Jeans and a T-shirt seemed too casual.  “I don’t have a thing to wear.”  Who the hell said that?  Christ, he saw her almost every day.  She had seen him in almost every outfit he owned.  She even helped him pick out clothes on more than one occasion.  “She’s even helped me pick out clothes,” he whispered.  That’s it.  He pulled out a pair of khaki pants and a pullover shirt that still had the tags on them.  He hadn’t had a chance to wear these since their last shopping excursion.  “At least I know she’ll like these.”  He looked at his watch.  T minus twenty-eight minutes.  He removed the tags quickly, making sure to throw them in the trash and not on the nightstand as he normally would.  He hung the clothes on the doorknob of the bathroom and started the shower.  While he waited for the hot water, he took the opportunity to brush his teeth.  He made sure to get them all this time.  As steam started towards him from the shower, he brushed his tongue and the roof of his mouth. 

 

The water from the shower stung him as he got in.  He hadn’t noticed it earlier, but he had gotten a little sunburn.  “Great, now I look like a permanent blush,” he thought as he examined his face in the small mirror he had hung in the shower.  He got it so he could shave while showering.  Good plan, lousy execution.  The mirror was usually steamed over by the time he was ready to shave and he had to keep wiping it off.  He applied shaving cream and began the laborious task of wiping off the mirror, shaving one stroke, wiping off the mirror, shaving, wiping, shaving . . . Though he was in a hurry he still opted to “repeat if necessary” when it came to shampooing.  He knew his hair would still be wet when she got there, but this was a common occurrence with him.  As he rinsed his hair for a second time, Larry thought that he should have gotten a hair cut instead of travelling the globe this afternoon.  He was always waiting too long to get a hair cut.  He hated spending forty-five minutes for fifteen minutes in the chair.  Deep down Larry knew the reason he probably waited so long between trims was that it gave him a drastic change to his appearance.  Something people would notice.

 

The shower felt wonderful, relaxing, but the water began to cool down and he knew he was on a strict timetable.  Larry wiped off the bathroom mirror and took a long look at himself.  “Who are you kidding?”  He brushed his teeth again and gargled with a store brand mouthwash.  “Name brand quality at a fraction of the price,” he thought.  He brushed his hair, splashed on some over-priced cologne that he got because it came with a free backpack, and got dressed.  “Thirteen minutes to spare,” he said cheerily as he put his watch on, upside down.  “One more try.”  Despite what he tried to convince himself of, he was nervous.  First, he was actually going out with Geri.  Dinner and a movie.  This was unprecedented.  Second, he was very uncomfortable when anyone came to his apartment.  This was his fortress of solitude.  Plus, he knew it was never clean enough. 

 

Never clean enough.  He started walking around the apartment to make sure it was really presentable.  He grabbed another napkin from the kitchen, just in case there was any stray dust he had missed.  He was glad he conducted the inspection.  He found a few stray socks and a pair of boxer shorts on the route between his bedroom and the spare room.  He gathered them up and tossed them into his closet.  He was afraid to open the door to the spare room.  He checked out the hall bathroom.  Towels in place, plenty of paper left on the roll, no soap.  No soap!  He panicked.  He ran into his bathroom and rummaged through the cabinets under the sink.  Behind the bucket and toilet bowl brush was a single wrapped bar of soap.  He brought it to the other bathroom, unwrapped it, tossed the wrapper in the empty trashcan, and placed it in a soap dish his mother had bought him during his parents’ first visit.  “You don’t even have a soap dish?” 

 

He scouted the apartment one more time.  Realizing he was still carrying his ‘dust napkin’, he went into the kitchen, balled it up and tossed it in the garbage can.  Everything was fine.  He sat in the chair to wait out the final minutes before Geri’s arrival.

 

Just as he was turning on the TV, Larry jumped from his chair.  He ran into the hall bathroom and retrieved the soap wrapper from the trash.  He didn’t want her to know that he was only putting soap out for her.  He actually considered running the bar of soap under hot water to give it a used appearance but thought better of it.  “I don’t want her to think she has to use ‘used soap’.”  How was he going to last the next few minutes without having a nervous breakdown?  He balled up the soap wrapper and put it in his pocket.  He returned to his chair and began some breathing exercises he had seen demonstrated on a special about natural childbirth.  He wasn’t sure he was doing it right and wished that he had taped it.

 

Another bell rang in his head.  He turned, and there in the corner was a pile of videotapes.  He walked toward it disgusted with himself.  “You see a mess all the time and you forget what clean means.”  Noting the dust on the tape boxes, he detoured to the kitchen for yet another napkin.  He began wiping down each tape as he stacked them.  He quickly became aware that he didn’t have the luxury of the time this would take so decided on the next best thing.  He stacked the tapes and then wiped down just the surfaces that were visible.  Upon completion, he examined his work.  One more swipe of the napkin and he threw it away.  He took a deep breath and looked at his watch.  He was out of time.  As a matter of fact five minutes had passed since her expected time of arrival.

 

Being Larry, his first thought was that she wasn’t coming.  “I knew it.  I knew this was too good to be true.”  He stopped himself.  “Come on buddy,” he reassured himself, “you know she’s never on time.”  He sat in his chair.  The apartment was silent.  After another ten minutes he started to worry.  “She’s lost.  I should’ve insisted she write down the directions.  It’s been months since we drove past here.  And that was during the day.  It’s dark out.  Maybe I should call her.  If she hasn’t left I’ll make sure she takes down the directions.”  He was on his feet.  “Will you please calm down.”  He sat and picked up the remote control.  He pressed the ‘On’ button and one of the VCR’s hummed to life.  He pressed ‘Off” and grabbed the right remote.  He turned the TV on.  He turned the TV off.  He got up and pushed the ‘Power’ button on the TV (he knew where it was?).  He sat back down and turned the television off with the remote.  He got up, went into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.  “I hope she likes root beer.”  He closed the door and returned to the chair.  He tried to turn the TV on but couldn’t find the remote control.  “I just had it.”  He walked into his bedroom, turned the light on. Larry scanned the room.  It wasn’t in there.  He went to the hall bathroom and checked the trash.  Empty.  He approached the spare room but thought better as he began to turn the knob.

 

“This is ridiculous.”  He sat back down and looked at his watch.  “Where the hell is she?”  He wasn’t angry, just overwhelmed with anxiety.  An image from seemingly nowhere came into his head.  It was the image of someone being shot at from a car.  The image was a bit foggy, like something you’d see in a dream.  “Oh God, I hope she didn’t get into an accident.”  He jumped up and grabbed the phone.  “Who the hell are you calling?” a voice in his head asked.  He replaced the phone.  “Maybe if I drove over to her place on the route she’ll probably take I’ll find her.”  He was manic.  “Will you please calm down?”  Larry was suddenly thirsty.  He went to the refrigerator and opened the door.  He started to laugh, a full, mind-clearing, stop driving yourself crazy kind of laugh.  Partly because he had let his imagination run away with him, partly because he realized tonight could be a lot of fun, but mostly because sitting on the top shelf was his remote control.  He allowed himself to relax.

 

Larry hadn’t noticed that another twenty minutes had gone by, he was engrossed in an episode of a show he’d never watched.  It was one of those bad-man-turns-good-after-meeting-the-right-woman stories.  The main character acted as both narrator and relationship catalyst.  Larry made a mental note to watch the show again.  “Maybe I should start taping it.”  He laughed to himself as he glanced at his watch.  The smile faded instantly.  He stood up and began pacing around the room.

 

“I am such an asshole.  When am I gonna learn to stop these ridiculous fantasies and join the real world.”  Thoughts of getting lost and accidents were gone now.  He was in self-pity mode and the power was up to full.  “I hope to hell she’s having a good laugh about this with her friends.  This is it.  This is the last time I let my guard down.  It’s just not fair.” He had made his way into the bedroom.  He saw the rose on his nightstand and collapsed onto his bed.  He allowed himself to calm down.  An asshole, yes.  Only because he allowed himself to get so carried away.  He was being ridiculous, of course.  He knew there was a logical explanation for Geri’s lateness.  He was just nervous.  Nervous and famished.

 

 

Larry was twenty-one the first time he was stood up.  It was during his post-Marcy, pre-Janet days.  He was rarely without female companionship but was never fully satisfied.  He was always looking for one more girl to add to his list.  That’s when Felicia walked into his life.  She was sixteen, adorable, and quite a flirt.  Rumor had it, she was also very experienced.  Larry fell for her like a ton of bricks.  And at that point in his life, he wasn’t shy about it.  She was aware of his intentions from the start and did nothing to discourage him.  To say she encouraged him was an understatement.  Every time she saw him she’d come up to him and stroke his arm or grab his hand.  Asking her for a date came with a rare ease.  She said she’d rather meet at his place and would arrange to get her parents’ car.  Larry sat outside his apartment building for two hours, running inside every five or ten minutes to check with his roommate if anyone had called.  Finally he retired to his bedroom with a half bottle of scotch.  He normally drank it with ice but tonight he drank it straight.  Come to think of it, he normally drank it from a glass too.  Oh well.

 

The next day when he saw Felicia at work, he approached her about the previous evening.  She just laughed at him and walked away.  It was the last time they talked.  Years later Larry had his chance to laugh.  He found out from a friend that Felicia had two kids before she was eighteen and was “quite a cow”.

 

He promised himself, he wouldn’t allow himself to get that upset over being stood up again.  That was a long time ago.

 

Larry must have fallen asleep.  He was awakened by a strange buzzing sound.  He looked at the clock as he got off the bed.  Geri was now over an hour late.  He kicked off his shoes and roamed into the living room to investigate that incessant noise.  “What the hell, oh damn, it’s the door.”  Larry pushed the appropriate button on the wall panel.  “Yeah.”  He was less than enthusiastic.

 

“It’s me.  Sorry I’m late.”  His stomach knotted.  The voice was unmistakable.

 

“Where’ve you been?”  He couldn’t even pretend to be upset.

 

“Let me in and I’ll tell you.”

 

“Oh yeah.  Second floor and to your right.”  He pushed the door release button and held it long enough to let her in.  He ran into the bathroom to brush his hair again.  It had gotten that fall-asleep-with-it-wet spike on the side.  He slipped back into his shoes and headed for the door.  He made sure to unlock the door, left it ajar as he left, and still checked his pocket to see if he had his keys.  He did.

 

Larry got to the elevator just as the doors were opening.  Geri stood there with a large brown bag in her hands.  It had only been a few days, but he didn't realize until this moment how much he really had missed her.

 

“Hi.”  Her smile could melt ice.

 

“Hi.”  Now that was original.

 

“Hi.”  The doors started to close.

 

Larry stuck his hand out to reverse the door’s action.  “Let me get that for you.”  He took the bag.  It was warm and had the distinct smell of chicken.

 

“Thanks.”  She walked out of the elevator and followed him to his apartment.

 

“Can she hear my heart beating?”  Larry asked himself as he held the door open for her.  He was sure they could hear his heart across the street.  “This is it,” he said timidly.

 

Geri entered slowly.  She was obviously trying to absorb everything she saw.  Larry steered her around the corner of the hall and motioned to a closed door.  “That one’s off limits.  Let me put this down and I’ll give you the tour.”  He pushed ahead of her and placed the bag on the dining room table.

 

“This is amazing,” she stood frozen, trying to take in the living room all at once.

 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”  Was he actually feeling comfortable?  His heart rate had slowed down and his stomach unknotted. 

 

“There’s more?”

 

He walked to the bedroom door.  How many times had he used his Star Wars collection as a way to get a girl into his bedroom?  This time, however, was different.  He just wanted to show off his collection.  To assure her, and himself, he reached around her, opened the door, turned on the light, and moved back into the living room.  Geri was speechless.  Larry sat down in his chair and allowed her to explore on her own.

 

“Hey,” he called to her.  “What’s in the bag?”  No response.  He looked in the bedroom and saw her examining one of the models.  “Earth to Geri.”

 

“Huh,” she turned.  “Oh, that’s why I’m so late, I thought it would be a better idea to just bring dinner to you.  I thought we’d eat sooner that way.  Guess not.”  She had disappeared behind the wall.  “I hope you like Chinese.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“And I got you a mug in Vegas.”  She was exiting the room holding the glass with the rose.  “What’s this?”

 

“Nothing.”  He took it from her and placed it on the table.  He hoped his sunburn covered the redness he felt in his face.  Larry began emptying the bag.  There were a few sealed cartons, a wax baggie with egg rolls, two fortune cookies, plasticware, and chopsticks.  The last two items seemed out of place.  A mug with a picture of an elderly man seemingly looking back and forth between a slot machine and a large breasted woman.  The caption on the mug read, “Las Vegas or BUST”.  Larry chuckled to himself as he placed the items on the table.

 

Larry headed to the kitchen.  “Should we eat in the dining room?”  He was removing plates from a cabinet.  Geri followed removing something from her purse.  It was a video. 

 

“I thought maybe we could watch a movie while we ate.”

 

Larry turned to face her, a bit confused.  “I thought we were going to . . .” He saw the tape in her hand.

 

“Well, it’s late and, well.”  There was that smile on her face again.  “You do have a VCR, don’t you?”