Chapter 4

 

 

WITH APOLOGIES TO ROD STEWART

 

 

Childhood certainly was a simpler time.  A good night’s sleep was just that.  Dreams consisted mostly of being a member of the crew of the Enterprise, or more likely the Jupiter II.  The worst thing that happened was a stray monster from another planet chasing you through caves and as you screamed, seemingly alone, Mom and Dad would show up around the corner and rescue you.  You were back asleep in minutes and inevitably dreaming of that cute girl who sat across from you in school.  Dad would lightly shake your shoulder to wake you up.  A groggy “Okay” would find its way from your lips as you were once again instructed to “Straighten up your room, the cleaning lady’s coming today.”  That always seemed to make sense to Dad, so you accepted it.

 

You’d open your drawer and the clothes you had worn a week ago had mysteriously reappeared, clean and folded with a slight smell of the evening after a rainstorm.  The bathroom seemed to sparkle around you as you brushed your teeth.  And there was always food waiting for you when you went downstairs.  It was never clear what happened to the dirty dishes while you got your books and yesterday’s homework.  You’d come back to the dining room to a table that looked as pristine as an hour before dinner the night before.

 

All the problems in the world could be solved while walking to school with the best friend you could ever imagine having for the rest of your life (what ever happened to Davy?).  Pseudo-military types orchestrated crossing the street for you.  Sure, every now and then a big kid would pull your books out of your hands and poke fun at your ancestry.  This issue would be addressed in some detail on the walk home, seven hours later.

 

Classes were designed to break up the time between recesses.  Recesses gave you the chance to be the captain of a spaceship exploring the unknown corners of the galaxy.  Your best bud would stand at your side, your second in command.  Lunch would come in paper bags or, on special occasions, from the nice lady with the funny hat behind the glass.  The worst thing you’d endure was gym class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.  You’d stand with Davy until everyone else got picked and never ended up on the same team.  That didn’t matter.  You’d show them some day, when you were walking on the moon and they were walking on the sidewalk, seeing if it was dry.  The outfield in the kickball diamond was never dull.  It was the best place to view the girl’s class and if you were lucky, you’d catch a glimpse of Cindy in her gym shorts.

 

Returning home, you could plop down and watch Ultraman fight those horrible creatures you were sure you’d meet again after you’d gone to sleep.  You could never grasp why Popeye would spend so much time fighting over anyone who looked like Olive.  After all, with those spinach-enhanced muscles he could have anyone he wanted, even Cindy (he better not).  After a while Mom would walk over to the TV, turn it off, and invite you into the dining room for dinner.  It never failed; there was always so much food.

 

After dinner was when the day got rough.  First you’d have to take your plate into the kitchen, kind of like those special days in the cafeteria.  Then you’d be imprisoned in your room while you read from a schoolbook or were forced to figure out how many apples John had left over after Mary and Susie ransacked his groceries.  The rewards always seemed worth it.  A game with the family, or a puzzle, or, if you were really good, some more time in front of the only piece of furniture in the house that could nurture you.  All this and you got to eat ice cream, chocolate please.  Tired or not, you returned to your room the same time every night.  Fifteen minutes with a comic book and then lights out.  Eight hours later, it would all start again, and it was glorious.

 

None of this ran through Larry’s mind as he sprinted to the bedroom to extinguish the howling.  He hit the snooze button, removed his sticky T-shirt, and got under the covers.  Larry wasn’t sure if he was more pleased than not that he couldn’t get back to sleep.  After what seemed an hour, the alarm rang again.  “This ain’t gonna happen,” he told the alarm and shut it off.  Forty-three minutes later he was in his office, sitting behind his desk, and rummaging through the entertainment section of his newspaper.  It was quiet.  Too quiet, he thought knowing most of his colleagues wouldn’t arrive for another hour or so.  He reached for the Styrofoam cup of coffee he had picked up on his way to work and knocked it over.  Time slowed down.  He saw the cup start to tip but couldn’t get his hand on it in time.  An unseen force prevented him from moving.  It was like he was trying to propel his arm underwater.  The coffee, still in slow motion, poured out over a stack of papers he hadn’t touched in months, except for the memo he never did finish reading yesterday.

 

Time returned to normal.  “Shit,” he exclaimed to the empty room as he reached for a pile of napkins in his top drawer.  Larry began blotting the coffee.  He noticed that the papers being soiled were no longer of any use to him.  He fanned through the stack to see if anything held timely information, the memo explained office hours over last New Years break, and tossed it all into the trashcan next to his desk.  He began looking through another pile of paper.

 

Sixty-seven minutes later Stacy walked into his office, looked around, stepped out confused, and re-entered.  “Didya quit or something?”  Larry looked up from behind the newspaper he had returned to just minutes ago.  She looked around his office and stopped, her eyes focused on one corner.  “Where’s the box?”

 

“Hmm?” Larry responded.

 

“The box,” she seemed genuinely upset.

 

“Oh, that,” he smiled.  “I put it in my car.  I found some room for that stuff at home.”  Stacy dropped into a chair.

 

“You okay?  What happened?”

 

Larry looked up again.  “Nothing.  I spilled my coffee and, well, I got inspired.”

 

“Mark is gonna pass out.”  He didn’t respond.  “Going to the movies?”

 

Larry dropped the paper.  “How the hell did she know?” Larry felt his blood run cold.  “Uh, what do you mean?” he tried to cover.

 

“The paper.  You only read the paper when you’re going to see a movie.”   Something was strange here.

 

“Oh, yeah, I thought I’d hit a flick after work tonight.”  He returned to his reading.

 

“Alone?”

 

Larry had to fight the urge to tell her.  He knew Stacy would understand how he was feeling, but something was nagging at him to keep his mouth shut.  “Maybe,” he responded with a note of mystery in his voice.

 

“Really?”  She was intrigued.  As long as she had known Larry, he had been fairly open about his personal life.  Suddenly, he was keeping things to himself.  A part of her was itching to know what was going on, but another part, the part that was still concerned about the dream issue yesterday, felt it was best not to pry.

 

“I won’t be going at all if I can’t find the right place and time.”  He had to lift the paper to hide the smile.  His mock anger wouldn’t work if she saw his expression.

 

“Fine,” her accent thickened.  “I’m not really interested anyway.”  The game was afoot.  She glanced at the clock.  “Nine o’clock, Mister Ebert.  Think we could get some work done today?”  He folded the paper and turned his computer on.  “A movie on a school night.  Tsk, tsk,” she directed to no one under her breath.

 

“Another day, another dollar.”  Whoever came up with that one obviously never worked in a company like Larry’s.  Unlike yesterday, this day dragged on forever.  The hour Larry and Stacy spent working on the schedule lasted a week.  After his computer went down for the third time, Larry nearly threw his keyboard out the window.  Every time he finally got a problem worked out, the phone would ring adding another complication to the mix.  At ten-thirty he was finally able to print out the daily work schedule and hand it over to Stacy.  As she walked off she motioned to the door.  He nodded and she shut it behind her.

 

Larry sat back with a sigh.  He caught something out of the corner of his eye and looked out the window.  A smile instantly formed on his face.  Geri was rounding the corner towards her office.  She was wearing a short black skirt and an off-white blouse and she was, in his perspective, the image of perfection.  He was nervous about tonight.  It wouldn’t be the first time he took her to the movies.  Shit, they had gone out to dinner, clothing shopping, breakfast, he even took her to the drug store to get female stuff a couple of times.  Why was tonight so different?  He realized he was staring and quickly turned away.  The phone rang.  “No rest for the weary,” he thought as he answered it.  “Yeah?”

 

“I’m here.”  He melted at the sound of her voice.  “What time?”

 

“It’s about ten-forty two.”  He knew that’s not what she meant. And he knew that’s what she knew he’d say.

 

“That’s not what I meant.”  If ever you could hear a smile in someone’s voice. . .

 

“I haven’t had a chance to find out.  I’ll let you know later.”  He paused.  “Any preferences?”

 

“Whatever’s good for you.”  Oh, he had a number of responses to that one.  “Just let me know.”

 

“Sure,” there was an awkward pause.  “Later.”  He hung up, grinning from ear to ear.

 

There was an odd spring in his step as headed to the reception area.  “Good morning.”  He almost sang the greeting to Nancy who was just hanging up the phone.

 

“Morning,” she responded hesitantly.  “Where’ve you been?”

 

“Working, cleaning, solving the problems of the world.” He seemed much too cheerful.  “Nice day,” he said as he poured a cup of coffee.

 

“Sure.”  Nancy answered a bit confused as she looked out the window.  It was definitely going to rain.

 

“Have a nice day.”  He headed back to his desk, reversed his course, and stopped in Stacy’s office.  “What’s up?”  She looked up.  Her face seemed creased with the worries of the ages.

 

“Let’s see, where do I start?”  She began reading notes she held in her hands, adding editorials every so often.  By the time she was done, she seemed exhausted.

 

“Cool.”  He tapped twice on the doorframe and walked off.

 

“Something is definitely up,” she thought as she rose and began to follow him.  She stopped herself immediately and sat down.  “He’ll tell me if he wants me to know.  And if he doesn’t, I’ll keep squeezing until he cries Uncle.”  She returned to the pile of problems that lay before her, an evil grin on her face.

 

When Larry returned to his office, Vinnie was sitting at the table.  “What’s up?”  He sat behind his desk and began sorting through the few papers that remained on his desk.

 

“Well, I know it’s short notice, but I was wondering if I could have next Friday off.”

 

“What for?”  He was looking at the dark clouds outside.

 

“Daughter’s birthday.”  He was prepared for a sarcastic retort.

 

“And you just realized this?”  Larry hoped it wouldn’t rain.  He hated driving in the rain.

 

“I wanted to take her up to see my folks for the weekend and thought I could get a head start to beat the traffic.”

 

Larry gave his full attention to the conversation.  “No problem.  Just make sure . . .”

 

“ . . .everything is covered.  It will be.”  Vinnie smiled.  How many times had they gone through this routine?

 

“How old is she gonna be?”  Larry adored Vinnie’s little girl.  After the separation, Vinnie and his daughter had stayed with Larry for a few months.  She had taken her first steps in his living room.  “One of these days,” he had thought when she’d run to hug him each night when he returned from work.  Larry had always thought of himself as a born uncle.  He felt he could relate to children on their own level.  Only recently had he given any thought to being a parent.  He would joke that he was the only man in the world whose biological clock was ticking.

 

“Three.”  There was always a sense of pride in Vinnie’s eyes when he spoke of his daughter.  It was a look Larry could remember seeing in his own Dad’s eyes after he graduated from high school, when he had been in a play, and in a recent dream he was having trouble remembering.

 

“I hope you two have a good time.”  Larry turned to mark the day on the calendar behind his desk.  He smiled at the yellow ‘X’ which was already in the box.  “I’ll have to warn Geri,” he thought.  He turned to Vinnie, “remind me again next Thursday.”

 

Vinnie smiled as he stood.  “Thanks.”  He walked to the door and began to shut it behind him.

 

“Leave it open.”  Vinnie exited and the phone rang.  Here we go.

 

“Two hours, she had me on the phone for two hours.”  Larry took a bite from his cheeseburger.  Not just any cheeseburger, it was the Tuesday special.  Two greasy patties smothered in lettuce, tomatoes, onions, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and provolone cheese.  It had to be provolone.  Larry would eat provolone cheese on just about anything.  He couldn’t remember when he began his love affair with provolone.  Probably back when he moved into his first apartment and dinner consisted of half a pound of ham, three quarters of a pound of cheese, and a root beer.  He rarely left work before eleven and the only place open was a convenience store with a deli.  God forbid he should buy food in advance.

 

“What did she want?”  Vinnie reached for one of Larry’s french fries.

 

Larry swallowed.  “I’m not really sure.  We just kept going around the same issues over and over.  She thanked me when she hung up, so I guess she got something out of it.”  He took another bite and ketchup squirted onto his shirt.  “Damnit!”  He licked a napkin and started blotting at the stain.

 

“Guess you’ll have to go home and change before the movie.”  Was that a note of sarcasm in Stacy’s voice?  Larry shot her a look.  For just a moment he had forgotten about his date, uh, going to the movies with Geri.  He started blotting feverishly.

 

“Here, let me.”  Arlene poured some of her water on a paper towel and reached over to wipe at the stain.  “It’s not that bad.”

 

“What movie?”  At least that’s what it sounded like Lenny was asking.

 

Larry started fanning his wet shirt.  “Don’t worry about it.  Did you guys meet the new girl in accounting.”  He tried to change the conversation.  This didn’t escape Stacy’s notice.

 

“Shit, yeah.  Where did we find her?”  Vinnie’s eyes had a bit of a spark.

 

“Is she single?”  Louis, ever the letch.

 

Larry had succeeded.  The remainder of lunch revolved around the physical attributes of the new ‘chick’.  Larry used the word as second nature.  He never meant any harm by it.  It was just his euphemism for an attractive girl he didn’t know well.  By the end of lunch they decided she wasn’t married but was probably involved.  She needed to rethink her hairstyle (this from Katie) and the shoes had to go (“What’s with Larry and shoes,” Stacy regularly wondered).

 

Like clockwork, Larry’s phone rang and lunch was over.  “Hello.”  The group disbanded to their respective offices.  A look of frustration crossed Larry’s face.  “Again?  What the hell could she want this time?  Okay, put her through.”

 

The conversation only lasted forty-five minutes this time.  Larry glanced at the clock as he hung up the phone.  He dug the newspaper out from beneath the pile of papers that had accumulated throughout the day.  He quickly turned to the movie section and jotted down a few times on the bottom of one of the memos he had received today.  He tossed the newspaper in the trash and reached for the phone.  It rang.

 

“Nobody’s home,” he said into the receiver, exasperated.

 

“Larry?”  The confused voice was Geri’s.

 

A smile crossed his face.  “Hey, I was just about to call you.  Listen, we have a few choices.  If you can get out by five-thirty we can get to . . .”

 

“Uh, Larry,” she sounded different, a bit upset.  “I can’t go.”

 

Larry almost dropped the phone but forced his voice to be steady.  “What’s wrong?”

 

Her voice had a slight quiver in it.  “My Mom’s been in an accident.  She’s okay, it wasn’t really bad, but she’s really shaken up and I think I should go see her.”

 

“Are you sure she’s okay?  Do you need a ride?  We could leave right now.”

 

“Thanks, but my brother’s already on his way to get me.  I’m sure she’ll be okay, but, well you understand.”

 

“Of course.  Are you okay?”  She sounded really shaken.  He had a sudden urge to just hold her, to help her.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He could feel her beginning to relax.  “Look, I’m really sorry about tonight.”

 

“Don’t even think about it.  Go take care of your mother.”  He thought for a moment.  “Give me a call if you need anything.”

 

“Thanks,” and the phone was silent.

 

Larry looked out the window.  A few drops of water hit the pavement.  He looked down at the light red spot on his chest and rubbed it lightly.  “Be okay, Geri.”  He began to ball up the memo with the movie times on it.  He stopped, flattened it out as best he could, folded it, and placed it in his shirt pocket.  As he glanced out the window, he saw Geri being escorted from her office by her brother.  He looked away before she could see him.  The phone rang.  He looked at it.  It rang again.  He stood and went to the window.  It rang again.  He closed the blinds and sat down.  The ringing stopped.

 

The ride home was quiet.  Too quiet, Larry had thought.  The only sound was the pattering of the rain on his car’s vinyl top.

 

When he arrived home, Larry sat in the car for several minutes without moving.  He finally reached for his cell phone and dialed Geri’s number.  His finger hovered over the ‘send’ button for a second and then he snapped the phone closed.  He turned the ignition off, unbuckled his seat belt, and got out of the car.  Larry opened the trunk of the car and took out a thin, rectangular box.  He rode the elevator to the second floor, not stopping to get his mail.

 

The apartment looked different.  It seemed empty, lonely.  He walked to the kitchen and tossed the box he held into the garbage can.  He turned to head back to the living room and stopped mid-stride.  He opened a cabinet, took out a glass decorated with a picture of the Batmobile, and filled it with water.  He retrieved the box from the garbage and opened it.  He stared for a moment at the single rose, took it from the box, sniffed at it, and placed it in the glass.

 

“I guess,” he spoke lightly, a faint smile on his face, “tonight is not the night.”  He stood there, staring at the rose. 

Chapter 3 (Continued from the vault)

 

DREAMS

 

By the time Larry went to bed, three loads of wash had been cleaned, dried, ironed (as necessary), folded and put away.  Most of the junk mail was in trash bags and videotapes were stacked neatly in the corner.  “I’ll have to buy another video shelf tomorrow,” he had thought as he dusted off the last two at the top of the pile.

 

Larry removed his glasses, placing them gently on the newly vacant nightstand and realized for the first time that evening that he had not watched a minute of TV all night.  The thought gave him a feeling of comfort.  He closed his eyes and drifted into slumber.

 

He was seventeen.  The movie was okay, he thought.  He was too busy looking over at Marcy’s hand on the armrest.  When they first sat down in the third row, she immediately folded her hands in her lap.  She hadn’t wanted any popcorn or soda.  Though he considered them staples of the movie viewing experience, he decided against them also.  The ride to the theatre was filled with the usual banter about school, teachers, and homework.  He had asked her to the movies a week ago and dreaded it ever since.  He liked Marcy and she seemed to like him, but the word ‘friend’ came up a bit too often in their conversations.  He had held his breath and asked and she had said yes.  So here they were. 

 

Larry had been looking forward to seeing this movie since he first heard about it three months ago and now all he could see were her hands.  First folded on her lap, then relaxed on her legs, and now the one closest to him on the armrest.  “This is ridiculous,” he smiled to himself.  “Just do it.”

 

There was a scene of a horizon on the screen featuring the twin peaks of a mountain that looked mysteriously like the World Trade Towers.  “Foreshadowing,” he whispered to her as he gently tapped her hand and retracted his quickly.  She turned and smiled.  It was more than just a polite smile.  At least that’s what he hoped.  The movie continued.  The great ape wrestled with a giant serpent.  “Foreshadowing,” this time he let his hand linger for a second or two.  It seemed an eternity to Larry as he pulled back.  She smiled again and giggled nervously.  The movie continued.  The bad guy, looking over his prize, the unconscious mass of the giant ape, said something about this being the greatest moment of his life.  He went on about how he’d be world famous.

 

“Foreshadowing.”  This time it was Marcy.  She smiled at him and placed her hand gently on his.  Larry’s heart dropped.  The hand remained.  It was warm, soft, and suprisingly slightly moist (could she be nervous, too?).  His hand tensed and she started to pull away.  Larry turned his hand over and lightly took her hand in his.  She didn’t resist.  He could feel her hand start to relax in his.  He looked over at her and their eyes met.  Smiling, they both sat back and returned to the viewing of the movie, neither releasing the other’s hand.

 

As the credits rolled, Larry turned to Marcy.  “Whatcha think?”

 

“I really enjoyed it.”  The voice was different but oddly familiar.  He looked up.  It was Geri.  He dropped her hand and screamed.

 

The bedroom was dark.  The usual glow of the TV was missing.  It took a few seconds to get his bearings.  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he reached for the remote control, stopped himself, and pulled the covers over his head.  “Oh my God.”  Sleep returned quicker than he expected.

 

They were dancing, slowly.  He was holding her tightly in his arms.  Her head rested gently on his shoulder.  Her hair smelled like flowers, the aroma made him a bit dizzy.  And they danced.  But there was no music.  He felt a few warm drops on his shoulder.  His hands gently caressed her back.  And they danced.  But they were lying down.  She kissed his chest lightly.  And they danced.  He cupped her chin lightly in his hand and lifted her face to look in her eyes.  The tears seemed to wash out the piercing blue he came to expect.  The redness of her eyes in no way detracted from her naturally beautiful face.  The smile was so familiar, so perfect.  His lips brushed her forehead.  He felt a tear roll down his cheek.  “Larry, I, I . . .” He began to silence her with a kiss.

 

The pillow didn’t respond.  He rolled over in his bed.  It had been years since he had thought about that evening.  It seemed a lifetime ago.  It was her seventeenth birthday and he had made her dinner.  Nothing spectacular.  Lasagna, salad, and a bottle of wine.  It would be regarded as his specialty in years to come. He remembered that she had seemed almost as impressed by his clean apartment as she was that he had cooked.  Just a quiet evening.  And it had ended in a way he never would have anticipated.

 

Almost five years had passed since Marcy had left him for an old boyfriend.  He never allowed himself more than a few weeks without a new girlfriend after that.  In retrospect he had realized that he was just compensating for the loss.  With a woman at his side, he wouldn’t think about her.  Wishful thinking.  Not a day would pass that her name didn’t pass over his lips.  In the darkness of so many bedrooms it was her face he was kissing, her body he caressed.  And then Janet came into his life.  A few days after their first date, a movie (what else), he was talking to an old high school friend who mentioned Marcy.  When it took him a few minutes just to picture her, he thought he might actually be moving on.  All he could conjure up was the image of Janet.  It was years before Larry could look back and see that Janet was Marcy.  A bit thinner, a tad shorter, but Marcy none the less.  He rubbed his eyes and felt the tear that still lingered on his cheek.  He drifted off again.

 

He heard crying.  He looked over his shoulder and there stood his mother, crying.  His father stood proudly with his arm around her.  He noticed that Dad’s eyes were moist, but he had such a presence in his freshly pressed tuxedo.  Tuxedo?  Larry looked down and saw that he, too, was dressed formally.  There was a canopy over his head and a rabbi in front of him.  This wasn’t familiar at all.  Organ music swelled and all eyes turned to the back of the auditorium.  Larry looked around the room and saw the faces of friends he hadn’t seen in years.  His sister held a baby in her arms.  The music continued to play.  Nothing.  A buzz of murmuring voices filled the room.

 

“Where is she?”  Lori tugged at his sleeve.  What a great friend Lori was.  Not only had she agreed to be his best man (?) but she even agreed to wear a tuxedo.  “I don’t think she’s coming.”  They were words he didn’t want to hear, but knew to be true.

 

“She’ll be here,” Larry looked to his parents.  They greeted him with a warm compassion.  Their eyes showed that they shared his pain.

 

“I don’t think so,” Lori sounded sure of herself.  Larry turned to her.  There stood Geri in the tuxedo.  “Time to move on.”  Her words repeated in his mind as he returned to his bed.

 

“This is what I get for not watching TV,” he reached for the remote control, but again fought the urge.  He rolled around in the bed for a few minutes, but couldn’t seem to get comfortable.  He got out of bed and stepped over a pile of clothes that was no longer there.  Larry headed to the kitchen following a more direct path then he had been able to in over four months.  He reached into the refrigerator for a soda but took a small bottle of orange juice instead.  Shaking the bottle, he sat down in his chair and faced the blank TV screen.  He couldn’t get the wedding scene out of his mind.  “Lori was right,” he thought, “Joanna probably wouldn’t have shown.”

 

“Ah, Joanna,” he spoke the name quietly, almost with respect.  He took a sip of juice.  “How could I have been so naïve?”  Larry was wide-awake now.  He picked up the remote control and turned on the TV.  Larry flipped from one channel to another trying to find something other than infomercials.  He finally hit on a movie’s opening credits.  He took another sip of juice, sat back, and let the story unravel in front of him.

 

As the credits ended, there was an indistinct shadowy form filling the screen.  The camera pulled back to reveal two people kissing.  They were sitting on a couch in each other’s arms.  The man whispered something to the woman and rose.  She took his hand and they walked off camera.  The next scene was that of a bedroom.  As the girl sat on the bed, the man turned off the lights.  The couple was lit in the eerie glow that only appears when lights are extinguished in a movie.  The embrace continued on the bed.

 

The story unfolded to show a relationship in its early stages of growth.  The couple became inseparable.  “She looks awfully familiar,” Larry thought to himself but couldn’t place the actress.  He found her very attractive though he had never been attracted to blondes.  It was her eyes.  They grabbed him.

 

Passion turned to love and the couple became engaged.  It was quit a humorous film, yet touching.  Larry was engrossed.  A wedding was planned, despite the constant arguing between the woman and her mother.  Finally, the day arrived.  The man paced nervously in his room as he dressed.  Larry thought it odd that they never showed the bride’s preparation.  The altar scene.  The groom’s mother and father cried.  The groom fidgeted.  The organ music swelled and the crowd rose.  All eyes were on the back of the room.  Nothing.  Close up of the groom looking nervous.  Cut to the back of the room.  Nothing.  Close ups of the guests looking to each other in confusion.  Wide shot of the entire room.  A bridesmaid ran down the aisle, out of the room.  Nothing.  A shuffling sound came from outside the room.  The camera zoomed to the end of the aisle.  The music swelled again.  A figure moved into view.  The bride, in white, appeared.  There was a slight sigh of relief that permeated the room.  The camera followed the bride as she walked down the aisle.  As she reached the groom, the camera zoomed onto her veiled face.  The groom’s hands reached into frame to lift the veil.  As he did, Larry saw a different face then earlier.  It was Geri.

 

Larry jerked up in his seat, spilling orange juice on his chest.  The room was dark; the TV off.  From his bedroom, Larry could hear the sound of his alarm.

Chapter 2. From the vault

[NOTE:  After I wrote Self Absorbed, the few people I let read it (I wrote it to get it out of my system) felt it was too much of a downer. And they wanted to read more. So, with little else to do, I expanded it. It ultimately ended up as 8 1/2 chapters. I submit to you, chapter 2 -- Second Chances. ggg]






SECOND CHANCES


Larry shot straight up in his bed.  “What the hell just happened?”  His alarm was blaring, the phone was ringing and an anchorwoman on TV seemed to be screaming at him.  He must have rolled over the remote control in his sleep, as he had a tendency to do.  He lowered the volume and tried to get his bearings.

He reached to shut off his alarm as he heard his answering machine pick up the call.  “Hi, I guess you left all ready.  I just wanted you to know that I’m running about fifteen minutes late.”  That voice. A bit less groggy, but unmistakable.

“Where the hell am I?” Larry asked the flashing light on his answering machine.  It just continued to flash, taunting him.  “What day is this?” He pushed the play button on the machine and listened to the message again.  As usual, the message ended with the voice of Captain Kirk telling him it was Monday, eight oh five AM.  “Shit, I’m late,” he told the TV.  The newscaster didn’t seem too interested.  She was busy talking about some drive-by shooting that had occurred the night before in Philadelphia.  He jumped up and headed to the bathroom, stopped mid-stride and turned to look at the phone.  He picked up the remote and let his finger hover over the OFF button.  He dropped the remote and headed to the closet.  “No, I should call her first”,  he told the closet door and returned to the phone.  His mind was in a cloud.  He could almost feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He picked up the phone and dialed a number without thinking.  After what seemed like fifteen rings the receptionist at his office answered.  “Damn, wrong number.”  This was in his head.  What he said sounded slightly like, “Hi, Nancy, it’s Larry.  I may be a few minutes late today.  No more than fifteen minutes.”  He hung up the phone without hearing a response.

He dialed again.  One ring, his stomach started to knot up.  He saw Geri everyday, why was he so nervous calling her?  Two rings. “Answering machine, answering machine, answering machine,” he prayed to the gods of modern technology.  Three rings.  His heart was in his mouth. Click.  “Oh, thank God.”

“Hi this is Geri, I can’t come to the . . . Hello.”  Shit!!!

“Hi,” he cleared his throat, “is Geri there?”

“Are you here already?  I tried to call.”

“No, actually your message woke me up.  I’ll see you in about twenty five minutes.”  He again hung up without waiting for a response.  He sat on the bed and took a well-deserved deep breath.

Less than a minute later, Larry was in the shower.  “It was a dream?”  The soap refused to respond.  Larry had had a few wild dreams in the past, but nothing like this one.  It was so vivid, so real.  The steam fogged his glasses.  He took them off quickly and tossed them to the counter.  They landed in the sink.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time he’d cleaned his glasses in this way.  Seeing dreams is one thing, bathing, well that was something else.  “A dream,” a smile came over his face as his body relaxed for the first time in who knew how long.  He started to laugh uncontrollably.

As Larry left his apartment, he contemplated calling Geri to let her know he was on the way, but thought better of it.  He was already running five minutes late and didn’t want to take anymore time.  She knew he was late, why complicate things.  “See you la . . .” He stopped himself.  He couldn’t remember why.

It was a cloudy morning and a bit chilly.  “Can’t take advantage of the convertible today,” he thought to himself, and in an odd way it pleased him.  The drive to Geri’s apartment was uneventful; the traffic seemed thinner than usual.  Finally, something was going right.  He’d be able to make up some of the time he had lost.

Geri sat on the steps in front of her building applying make-up.  A wave of relief ran through every bone in his body when he first saw her.  He smiled politely as she got in the car.  “Where have you been,” he asked, beating her to the punch.  She smiled at him, a bit confused.

The ride to work was quiet.  Larry responded to Geri’s questions regarding his weekend with nothing more than nods and grunts.  His mind was somewhere else.  He remembered having a disquieting dream but the details evaded him.  He could only remember brief snippets. A park, Stacy’s office, someone being shot, a movie. . .

“So did you see the movie this weekend?”  There was a slight air of concern in her voice.  Larry seemed a bit out of sorts.

“Uh, movie, um, yeah, yeah, it was good.”  There was something familiar here, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I almost went Saturday but couldn’t find anyone interested.”  This Larry found hard to believe.  Geri was beautiful, young, and energetic.  He couldn’t imagine her having trouble finding a date.  If things were different, he thought, he would’ve leaped at the chance to ask her.  “Maybe I can find someone to go with me this week.”  What was that smile he caught out of the corner of his eye?  A chill ran down his back.  It was as if this conversation had occurred before but for some reason he couldn’t get the image of a park, a tree, a lake out of his mind.

“Are you okay?”  The question didn’t seem to come easy.

“I’m fine.”  It seemed forever before the words were uttered.  “I’m just a bit beat, I didn’t sleep real well last night.”  He noticed a slightly concerned, slightly confused look on her face.  “No big deal.  I had this really strange dream and I can’t seem to remember it.”

“I know what you mean.  I never remember my dreams.  I was reading once that . . .” He heard the words yet didn’t hear them.  He was just glad that she had taken back control of the conversation.

They arrived at work only five minutes late.  They would have been on time, Larry thought, had they not stopped for doughnuts.  Normally Larry would have just driven by the bakery, but today he thought it would be the right thing to do.  Larry just sat in the driver’s seat as Geri got out of the car.  “You coming?”

“In a minute,” he gestured for her to go.  “Stop by for a doughnut.”

“Sure,” she turned back to face him, “Are you okay?”  She seemed genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, just thinking.”  As Geri walked from the car he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  “If things were only different.”  The words repeated in his head.

Though only a few minutes had passed, it seemed forever before Larry got to his office.  He placed the box of doughnuts on the table and walked behind his desk to turn on his computer.  For the first time today, all weekend for that matter, he felt comfortable.  He sat down and thought, “I’m home.”  A smile played on his lips and the day began.

Stacy walked into his office.  “Sleeping in, I see.”  She smiled politely.  “How was your weekend?”

“Oh the usual, overslept both days.  Thought about cleaning my apartment; watched TV instead.  Thought about coming in here to clean up on Sunday; watched TV instead.”  He thought for a moment.  “Hey, you know something about dreams.  How do you get yourself to remember more than just some small details?”

“You know, there is a belief that dreams are actually reality and all this is the dream.”

“Here we go again,” he thought.  Usually he would laugh these comments off but there was something about the way she said things, could it just be the accent that made her comments more palatable.  “You ask a simple question . . .” They both smiled.

“Dreams bugging you again?”  She sat at the table, poked at a couple of doughnuts and watched as he started to work on the weekly schedule.  “Have you ever considered writing them down as soon as you wake up?”

“The day I wake up and I’m not already running ten minutes behind, or answering the phone, I’ll consider writing them down.  I’m sure I have a pen and paper somewhere.”  By this point the staff started filing into the office stopping at the table to peruse the choice of doughnuts.

“What’s the occasion?”  Katie asked as powered sugar spilled onto her blouse.  “Lose a bet.”  Everyone looked up, anticipating a response.  Stacy gave a stern look to Larry that only he could see.  “Let it go, it’s only Monday.”  She didn’t speak, but he heard the words, loud and clear.

The meeting went off without a hitch.  Katie continuously threw barbs at Larry but he heeded Stacy’s advice (warning?).  At first Stacy was glad to see that harmony was being preserved, but as the meeting continued she started to sense that Larry was a bit disconnected.  There was definitely something on his mind.  “He’ll tell me when the time is right,” she thought.

When the meeting was over, the room cleared.  It seemed quieter than usual.  Stacy got up to close the door and returned to her seat.  “You never cease to amaze me,” she said finally picking a doughnut out of the two that remained.  “I thought for sure you were going to . . .” Larry wasn’t paying attention.  For a moment, she wasn’t even sure if he was in the room.  He was staring out the window, dazed.  She tried to follow his glance, but only saw the door of Geri’s office closing.  “Earth to Larry.”  Nothing.  “Larry.”  She stood and shook his shoulder.  “You in there?”  The phone rang.  Nothing.  It rang again.  As if nothing had happened, Larry picked up the phone and answered it.  Business as usual. Stacy shivered slightly as she sat back down.

The day seemed to fly by.  This was one thing Larry actually enjoyed about Mondays.  There was so much to do that the day seemed like it was over before it started.  He hung up the phone for what he hoped would be the last time and looked at the clock.  Five thirty.  He rubbed is right ear as Stacy walked in.  “I’m out of here,” she said, hoping he’d invite her in for a quick chat.  Maybe to tell her about what had been troubling him earlier.

“Okay, have a nice night.”  He went back to reading a memo he had found on his desk earlier.  God knew how long it had been sitting there.  He felt Stacy’s stare and looked up.  “Is there something else?”  She seemed a bit out of sorts.  He hoped everything was all right.  He hated to see her upset.

“Just wondering if you had any luck remembering that dream.”  Damn it, she had promised herself.

“Dream?” What was she talking about?  He couldn’t remember any dream.  Stacy noticed the confused look on his face and felt another chill.

“Never mind,” she was visibly shaken.  “I must have been thinking of something else.  Oh well, see you in the AM.”  She hoped he didn’t notice how fake her smile was.

“Sure,” he was back to the memo.  Stacy slowly backed out of the office as the phone rang.  Larry reached to pick up the phone but decided to press the speaker button instead.  “Yeah.”

“Fifteen minutes.”  Geri normally sounded tentative when she made her “here’s when I’ll be ready” call.  This time she sounded certain of herself.  This usually meant she was only ten minutes off instead of fifty.

“I’ll be here.”  Larry felt a small pain in his stomach as he disconnected the call.  He began reading the memo for the third time, having no idea what it said.

The drive home started out quietly.  As they drove past a park, Geri looked longingly out the window.  “Nice day.”

A lump formed in Larry’s throat.  “Uh, yeah, I guess.”  There was an air of discomfort in his voice.

“Yeah,” Geri repeated dreamily.

“So any luck finding a date for the flick?”  Larry tried to change the subject and suddenly thought that he might have changed it for the worst.  There was something nagging at him, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

“No,” Geri replied glumly as she turned to face him.  “Guess I’ll wait till it comes out on video.”

“You can’t,” Larry’s voice raised slightly.  “This movie must be seen on the big screen.  It’s not the greatest in the world, but the effects are phenomenal.”  Larry was in his element, if such a thing existed, when he was talking about movies.  “You working tomorrow?”  Geri turned at what seemed an abrupt change of subject.

“Yes,” she replied tentatively, looking straight at him.

“This would be so much easier if she was looking the other way,” Larry thought as he swallowed.  “I’ll take you after work.”  What the hell did he just say?  “If you want,” he added cautiously.

“Sure, why not,” Geri answered without hesitation.  “What time?”

“It’s playing all over the place.  We could probably get to a seven o’clock show.  Later, if you want to go to dinner first.”  What the hell, the door was open.

Geri shrank, ever so slightly, into her seat.  “No, just the movie will be fine.”  Larry’s face flushed.  “We’ll do dinner another time.”  She sat back fully, relaxed.

“Cool.”  Larry often wondered where he had picked up the constant use of that word.  Brady Bunch marathon probably.  Every muscle in his body began to relax.  “Cool,” he thought to himself as he pulled up to her building.

Before the car came to a stop, she had her keys in her hand and her seat belt off.  “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.  I’m going in late, so I won’t need a ride in the morning.”  She opened the door and got out.  She closed the door and bent down to look in the open window.  “Let me know what time the movie is when I get in, okay?”  Her smile seemed too familiar.

“Sure, let me know if you change your mind about dinner.”  He was obviously goading her.  She gave him a mock look of aggravation and then laughed lightly. “Okay, okay, another time.”  Larry’s eyes followed her as she walked from the car, noticing that she didn’t look back.  “She never looks back,” he thought as he drove off.

He turned the car radio on and popped in a tape.  Nilson’s “Without You” started to play.  Larry pulled the tape out and threw it in the back seat.  “Not right now,” he thought as he fumbled with the radio.  “Without You” was playing on his favorite station.  “Damn,” he said out loud as he tuned to a talk station. “How many coincidences can one person endure?”  The host of the radio station was taking calls regarding the drive-by in Philly.  He laughed nervously as he turned the radio off.  He drove the rest of the way home in silence.

As he walked into his apartment, Larry looked around in what could only be described as disgust.  “How can anyone live like this,” he asked the plastic Darth Vader, sitting on a shelf in the hall.  He continued into the bedroom, stripping off his shirt.  Throwing the shirt on the floor he heard the unmistakable voice of his mother, “How hard is it to just hang something up?”  She was never angry, just a bit perplexed that someone who grew up in such a clean house could have such little regard for his own home.  Larry thought about it then tossed the shirt on the floor.  “This weekend,” he thought.  “Definitely this weekend.”  Larry kicked off his shoes and removed his pants.  He stopped as he was about to toss them on the bed, thought a moment, and then, to his own surprise, emptied the pockets, brushed them off, and hung them in the closet.

Suddenly he was energized.  He began picking up clothes from the floor and stacking them by the washer.  He threw a load into the washer and went to the living room.  Stopping briefly at the TV, he continued on and turned on the stereo.  He tuned it immediately to a Jazz station.  Larry wasn’t a major jazz fan, but the songs rarely had words so the chances of him hearing “Without You” were minimal.  Larry moved to the couch and without a thought started sorting through and folding the clean clothes that had piled up there for the past month.

The Lyrics to Jeopardy

Driving home from the Science Center today I finally realized the lyrics to the Jeopardy theme:

It is time for Jeopardy
Use a question when you give the answer
To the words that Alex reads
It is time for Jeo-par-dy


Now if I can figure out how to put a recording on here, I'll sing it for you.

Another one from the Vaults

[Note -- this was written around (but before) the Unnamed Story, previously posted.  The reference to VCR's certainly dates it -- ggg]

SELF ABSORBED

 

 

 

The sun shone through the windshield as he drove home.  “How could I be so stupid,” he thought as he turned onto his street.  “When will I learn to let good enough alone?”  The lyrics of Lionel Ritchie’s ‘Hello’ blared from the car’s speakers as he eased the vehicle into it’s parking spot.  Exiting the car Larry thought twice about leaving the top down.  “With my luck, someone will steal the stereo,” he said out loud to no one in particular, not even himself.  He set about to the task of replacing the top in the silence of the garage.  “Jerk, jerk, jerk!”  Again aloud, but this time directed at the only occupant of the deserted garage.

 

The elevator stopped in the lobby.  He faced the row of mailboxes as the doors opened.  He fumbled for his keys and retrieved his mail.  Three bills, a movie magazine, and an offer for an overpriced dating service addressed to “Single Occupant”.  An ironic smile crossed his lips as he retreated into the elevator.  Two more floors and he was home.

 

The apartment was a mass of diversity.  The walls were decorated with movie posters from “Star Wars”, “Star Trek”, “Citizen Kane”, and “The Brady Bunch Movie”.  Strewn across the floor lay the past week’s newspapers, videotapes, yesterday’s wardrobe, and magazines.  There were too many bookshelves laden with too many books, and covered with toys from favorite, and not so favorite, movies.  The TV was on, oops, and three VCR’s hummed recording who knew what (and who knew when they’d ever be seen).  The living room was decorated in what Larry could only describe as ‘Early American Parents’.  The couch, forever covered in junk mail and last week’s clean laundry, was a constant reminder of his family.  It had been passed down the sibling tree until he took possession ten years ago.  And it was staying, no matter what mom said.

 

He crossed to the bedroom, barely noticing the news of yet another drive-by shooting being conveyed nearly inaudibly by the TV.  Entering the bedroom he began to discard his clothing.  Shirt on the floor, shoes kicked off into the corner, pants neatly deposited on the bed (wouldn’t want his change or keys falling out).

 

His bedroom was a shrine to movies and TV.  One wall was covered ceiling to floor with shelves holding videotapes and magazines he’d collected over the past twenty five years, another housing toys, games, books, and who knows what, as long as it had something to do with ‘Star Wars”.  His bed, unmade (who’d have guessed it), under a small window, appeared to be the centerpiece of the room.  From this vantage point he could see everything.  Every bit of wall that was not covered by shelving and the like was adorned with posters and framed photographs from the movies he had seen hundreds of times.  As he moved to the bathroom, he checked to make sure yet another VCR was recording on yet another tape that would be viewed in a future he wasn’t sure would ever come.

 

Larry looked at himself in the mirror.  He was tired.  Tired of not getting enough sleep, tired of dealing with coworkers that never seemed to get it, tired of coming home to this ‘empty’ apartment.  Mostly he was tired of being a jerk.  He ran cold water and splashed it on his face.  “Just another day.”  He was startled by his own voice breaking the silence. 

 

Wading through the clothes covering the floor, Larry went back through the living room and into the kitchen, being careful not to knock any of the empty cans and bottles off the counter tops.  He searched the refrigerator for something to drink.  He found a bottle of soda behind a carton of milk that expired a month ago.  He placed the cap on the counter, briefly considering tossing it into the overflowing trash bag.  He returned to the living room and sat down in the chair strategically placed in the middle of the room, the only piece of furniture not covered.  As he took a sip of his soda he looked around the apartment.  It was the nightmare of every teenager’s parents.  What would happen if their cherub ever moved out, but never grew up? 

 

He reached for the remote control and aimlessly skipped from channel to channel.  The news, an old black and white movie that had been colorized, some special bulletin, a few talk shows, an infomercial about dieting while you sleep (he made a mental note of that one), another special report, a game show from the mid-seventies, and the scene of a high speed chase in progress.  A normal day.  It just didn’t seem important to him.  The images flicked faster and faster as he considered his actions of the day.

 

It started out as a normal Wednesday.  He was barely awakened at six by the blaring of his alarm clock.  Eyes still closed, he tapped the snooze button.  Another seven minutes of bliss.  He hoped he could get back into that dream.  He was walking through a park with Geri.  They were talking and laughing as they tended to do (though never in a park) and she had reached out to hold his hand.  It was a dream come true, well, if it wasn’t actually a dream.  He stopped, surprised.  She turned and looked up into his eyes.  A knowing smile played on her lips and he realized that she had finally come to grips with the feelings he knew (read, hoped) she had for him.  They gazed into each other’s eyes for just a moment and he slowly leaned towards her and . . .  That was when the alarm blared.  He willed himself back into the dream with mixed success.  It was earlier in the dream when they were in the car and she suggested that they take a walk.  After all, it was a beautiful day and she had no reason to rush home.  As he pulled into the parking lot the dream changed slightly.  She gently placed her hand on his as he removed the key from the ignition.  Again shocked, he sat frozen.  The same knowing smile, the same locked eyes, the same alarm shattering the image once again.

 

“Damn,” he announced quietly as the smile left his lips and he once again tapped the alarm clock.  The phone rang.  “Hello, hello,” he repeated the words as the phone rang a second time.  He felt he had to get it just right.  He didn’t like sounding like he had been asleep when the phone woke him in the morning.  He pressed MUTE on the TV’s remote control and picked up the receiver.  “Hello,” he was sure he sounded like he’d been awake for hours.  “Eight fifteen,” came the groggy reply.  “I’ll be there, bye,” he hung up the phone.  Geri sounded so different in the morning.  He tried not to think about the reality of the situation as he started dozing off again.  He knew they were just friends.  “Best friends,” she would insist on occasion.  Just someone who he worked with, just someone he gave a ride to a few days a week, just someone he thought about constantly.  He drifted back to sleep.

 

They were in a movie theatre.  She was intently watching the film.  He had already seen it, but didn’t want to give up the chance to take her when she had casually mentioned her interest in it a few days ago.  He took an occasional glance at her from the corner of his eye.  She was beautiful.  Dark, smooth skin with just a hint of eye make-up he watched her put on in the car that morning.  Her hair was dark and silky to the touch.  Well, that’s how he had imagined it countless times.  He leaned ever so slightly toward her and . . . “Shit!”  This time he pounded on the snooze button, never opening his eyes.

 

He was back in the movie theatre, falling asleep.  How did his arm get around her and why didn’t she pull back?  It seemed almost comfortable, the way he knew it would be.  He started to doze in his seat and noticed something.  She was leaning towards him and her arm was casually draped across his stomach.  She continued to watch the movie, as if none of this was happening.  He moved closer and lightly rested his head on her shoulder.  Could he believe this?  She began to turn her head and the smile returned to her face.  She moved closer, her lips nearing his.  It was going to happen, it was actually going to happen.  And then . . .

 

He was awake.  No alarm had rung this time.  The phone was silent.  He was sitting straight up in his bed, wide-awake.  “Damn it!  Why does this always happen?  Why can’t I kiss her?”  He wanted to scream the words, but thought better of it, considering his neighbors.  As he sat there the alarm rang again.  He again tapped the snooze button.  Lying back down, he tried hopelessly to go back to sleep, but to no avail.  He was awake now, might as well get ready for work.

 

He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.  Larry always slept with his glasses on.  He told people it was so he could see his dreams clearly.  Though he tried to convince himself that his reasoning wasn’t far from the truth, there was a simpler explanation.  He almost always fell asleep with the TV on, and needed them to see the TV.  He looked at the clock.  “Shit!”  It was quarter of eight.  In order to pick up Geri at quarter after he would have to be out of the house in twelve minutes.  The alarm blared again.  “Oh, shut up!”  He turned the alarm off and got out of bed.

 

Larry paged through the TV Guide as he stumbled to the bathroom, mentally verifying that all VCR’s were programmed for the day’s television events.  He brushed his teeth, showered, shaved, gargled, and brushed his teeth again as he tried to wipe the images of his dreams from his mind.  No use getting wrapped up in something that never happened and never would.  He was dressed and ready to go with thirty seconds to spare.  “See ya later,” he whispered to his apartment as he closed the door behind him.

 

Though it was barely eight o’clock, the day was beautiful.  Larry decided to take the top down on his convertible.  He realized this was probably a mistake when he got back into the car and saw that he was now five minutes behind schedule.  As it always seems to happen when running late, the traffic was heavy.  He knew, at best, he would be ten minutes late to pick up Geri and started thinking up an excuse.  He could claim there was a lot of traffic; that had worked in the past and, after all, it was true.  What the hell, why worry about it?  The worst that would happen is she’d feign anger to make him feel bad, he’d beg her forgiveness, and they’d discuss their respective evenings.  That’s what made the dream seem so real to him.  They had gone to a movie he had already seen last night and she had seemed different.  Not as standoffish as she had been the other times they’d been to the movies.  There was a sense of closeness he hadn’t felt before.  Earlier in the day she even caught herself admitting they were ‘going out’ that night and quickly changed her words to ‘going to see a movie’.  “God, why do you have to read so much into these things?”  He hadn’t realized that he was, as usual, conversing with himself out loud until he saw the look the driver next to him gave as he pulled away from the green light.  Larry had no problem with the fact that he talked to himself; he just needed to use better judgement when the top was down.

 

He pulled up in front of the building where she lived and parked.  No Geri.  He was spared having to exaggerate the traffic story and he’d have the upper hand in the “you’re late” argument.  A few minutes passed and then he saw her exiting the building.  He had to keep his mouth from dropping open.  She was wearing the exact same outfit as in the dream about the park.  “This cannot be happening.”  He made sure those words were only spoken in his head.

 

Geri stumbled to the car, one hand buttoning the top button of her blouse, the other holding her shoes and briefcase.  Not exactly the consummate professional she appeared to be at the office.  Her hair was still damp and she wore no make-up.  Larry knew that by the time they arrived at work she would be transformed.  Oddly enough, this was when he saw her to be the most attractive.  This was the real Geri.  This was the person he had fallen . . . “Stop it!  She’s just a friend.”

 

“I am so sorry,” she sounded much more herself then she had on the phone a mere two hours earlier.   “I fell back to sleep and . . . were you waiting long?” 

 

“Since ten after,” he tried to sound angry but she smiled knowingly (that smile was much too familiar) and they both laughed.  “Actually I just got here a few minutes ago.”  As they pulled away from the building Larry’s mind raced.  The smile, the clothes. Forgetting the dreams was not going to be easy.

 

The drive to work was accompanied by a discussion of the film, what they did when they got home, and weekend plans.  It usually felt natural when they spoke like this, but today was different.  He felt apprehensive.  He felt the words being forced out of his mouth.  As they approached the doughnut shop they replayed the daily ‘should we stop and get doughnuts for the office’ discussion.  Larry ended with, “If you were on time, we’d be able to stop,” as they drove by.  She took a break in applying her lipstick to laugh lightly.  The smile seemed to linger on her lips a bit longer this time.  “Stop it!”

 

They arrived at work, early, and their individual days began.

 

Larry entered the building so absorbed in his own thoughts that he barely heard the greeting from the receptionist.  “Morning,” he uttered as he checked for messages.  There were two.  A client who needed a call in the afternoon and a note that Stacy was running about five minutes late.  He walked to his office re-reading the notes as they started to sink in.

 

The office was a microcosm of his apartment.  Every surface, his desk, table, chairs and shelves were covered in paper.  Even here there were videotapes scattered about.  A box that had seemed to be there forever sat in one corner, overflowing with who knew what.  The walls of his office were lined with calendars of various shapes and sizes.  When asked, Larry told others that he needed one for each time zone.  Most people laughed, a few nodded their heads with fake understanding.  He moved behind his desk to start his computer and reached for his coffee mug, still half full with the remains of yesterday’s brew.  He sipped at it tentatively then gulped it down in one clean swallow.  He returned to the reception area to fill his cup with what he hoped would be fresh coffee.

 

“How was the movie,” the receptionist inquired.  Larry stopped short, again with the movie.  “I enjoyed it.  It held up to a second viewing.”  She nodded, a bit confused.  “I’m thinking of seeing it this weekend.”

 

He filled his cup with first sugar then creamer and then poured the coffee on top.  He liked to think that the condiments dissolved quicker this way.  As he stirred it he headed back to his office.  The receptionist noted that he seemed a bit quiet today.  She hoped it wasn’t going to be ‘one of those’ days.

 

Larry sat behind his desk and started to check his e-mail.  Nothing extraordinary.  Three off color jokes from a client, a picture of a thousand pound naked woman, and a brief comment from Stacy continuing a cyber conversation they had started two months earlier, just to see how many times they could reply back and forth.  As he was reading through the notes, his staff began to file into his office for the daily meeting.  He looked up and greeted each as they emptied chairs in order to sit down.

 

The meeting started with the usual banter about last night’s television viewing.  This served two purposes.  One, to allow everyone to have a few minutes of relaxation before the day began and two, most importantly, to stretch things out so no one would notice Stacy arriving late.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Stacy entered speaking with a slight accent.  A very cute accent his mother once informed him after her third inquiry into Stacy’s marital status.  Her accent only grew heavier when she was trying to push a point through or when she and Larry got into a heavy argument.  And, oh did they argue.  Larry once told her that the reason they argued was that they worked so closely together they were like an old married couple.  “The only problem is,” he announced, “you can’t use sex against me to gain the upper hand.”  As with most of their arguments, it ended in laughter.

 

Stacy was an enigma.  She was one part enchantress, one part psychiatrist, three parts professional, and two parts Yoda.  They had spent many hours philosophizing over the nature of humanity and Larry’s pet topic that it is more natural to be bad then good.  “The dark side of the Force is more seductive,” he would quote.  “And why are the things that taste the best always bad for you.”  She would argue that good and bad were relative terms and in reality didn’t exist.

 

Larry couldn’t believe that he had only known Stacy for two years.  He couldn’t remember what it was like before she entered his life.  They were good friends, yet something deeper.  He knew he could always count on her to be the one constant in his universe (another pet topic for them).  She remained levelheaded yet never pulled her punches when they talked, whether it be work related or not.  In another life, he thought, they were probably brother and sister, Stacy being the brother.

 

The meeting continued as usual.  Personal jabs were tossed back and forth between staff members.  Larry and Katie got into the mandatory argument ending with Stacy requesting them to “just move on.”  The meeting ended, the crowd left, carefully replacing the piles they had removed from the chairs they had occupied, and Larry’s mind drifted back to his dreams. 

 

It seemed an eternity before the ringing phone jarred him from his contemplation.  It was Mark, his boss.  “Everything alright?  The phone must have rung ten times.”  “Yeah, I’m okay,” Larry knew Mark was prone to exaggeration and the phone had only rung three times, “What’s up?”  As Mark began talking, Larry caught the image of Geri through his window leaving her office across the courtyard.  He turned to look at her just as she turned to look at him.  Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments.  They quickly looked away uncomfortably, but Larry was sure he caught a glimpse of that same smile once again.  Unaware of what was happening, Mark continued with his litany of issues revolving around the day’s schedule.  “Okay, thanks,” Larry offered as the conversation ended and he hung up the phone.

 

“This has got to stop,” Larry was barely audible through gritted teeth.  And it did finally stop, for a few hours at least.  The day progressed uneventful. Well, as uneventful as any day.  He had two more run-ins with Katie, a minor disagreement with Mark over the way to handle a disciplinary problem, two and a half more cups of coffee, and a heated discussion with Stacy (she agreed with Mark).  Two clients called with thanks for a job well done on a project that had been going on for three months.  It was always nice to hear something positive.  Yes, everything went well until the middle of the afternoon when the phone rang for what seemed the hundredth time that day.

 

“Larry, do you have a couple of minutes?  There’s something we need to talk about.”  The voice was unmistakable.  It wasn’t the groggy voice he got used to hearing in the morning, nor was it the cheerful, uninhibited voice of countless car rides.  This was her professional voice; her work voice.  This was the voice that said there’s a problem and, seemingly, only Larry could solve it.  His heart skipped a beat.  He managed to spend the day avoiding contact with her.  It was the only way he could concentrate on the work that continually piled up on his desk.  He had even closed his blinds as to not see her entering or exiting her office.  He stepped to the window, opened the blinds, and watched as she closed the door of her office behind her.  She didn’t look his way.  She had a serious, almost angry expression on her face.  Thank God the smile was gone.  Larry’s breathing returned to normal.

 

“I can do this,” he thought to himself.  “Yeah, I can handle this.”  He sat and buried his head in his hands.  “It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.”

 

“What’s not fair?”  He was startled by the sound of Geri’s voice as she entered his office.  So startled, his stomach didn’t have time to tie in the knot it normally did when she came into his office.  “Mind if I close the door?”

 

“Shit,” he thought, this was going to be serious.  He let the thoughts of the morning, the night before, the last six months fade out of his mind and turned his attention to the problems at hand.  An hour later the door to his office opened.  “Thank you,” Geri said with a smile on her face.  It wasn’t that smile.  It was the professional smile she often used when talking with co-workers.  “I appreciate your time.”

 

“Anything you need, I’m here for you.”  A truer statement had never been uttered.  Larry collapsed into the chair he had been sitting in during their meeting and stared out the window.  He watched Geri walk back to her office.  On the way, one of their male co-workers stopped to talk with her.  The knot Larry was deprived of earlier came quickly.  He stood up with determination and headed to Stacy’s office.

 

“I’m obsessed,” he blurted out as he closed Stacy’s door behind him.  She looked up calmly from her typing.  “I know.”

 

 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Larry shuffled nervously in his chair.  On the television a newscaster was interviewing a policeman.  Without even thinking, Larry did something he rarely did.  He shut off the TV.  “Why did I have to talk to her about this?”  Larry felt that as long as he kept things to himself, they weren’t an issue.  Just another fantasy.  God knows he’d had plenty of them.  But now that it was voiced, it was real, something he had to deal with.  Stacy was a great comfort.  She listened to everything he had to say, the dreams, the smile, the clothes.  She let him stumble over his self-analysis, not uttering a word.  When she finally spoke he heard something he didn’t expect. 

 

A voice of logic, a voice he trusted implicitly told him that he wasn’t crazy.  She told him that maybe he should consider pursuing things.  Not right away, she had warned.  Be sure of you’re feelings first.  Then, when you’re sure, do something.

 

This wasn’t what he wanted to hear.  She was supposed to discourage him.  She was supposed to list out all the negatives he had been running through his mind for months.  She’s too young.  She works for you.  And the ever popular, she could never be interested in you.  All the things a true friend would say to spare his feelings.  Instead she told him what she thought, what she felt.  He knew he could always count on her for this. 

 

And now things were worse.  What if he did approach Geri and she didn’t feel the same way?  Would she start to pull away from him?  The friendship was too important to be lost because of his attraction.  Stacy had laughed at that one. 

 

He took another sip of his soda.  He had thought about pouring himself a scotch but dropped the idea immediately.  He never drank alone, especially when he was troubled.  He was afraid that this would lead to a drinking problem.  No, the soda was fine.  “Oh, the hell with it.”  Larry leaned back in his chair, starting to feel comfortable for the first time today, this week, this month.  He actually started to feel good about what he had done.  On the one hand, voicing the issue had turned it into a reality, but on the other hand, he felt relieved of a burden.  He was finally able to articulate his problems to one of the two friends he felt closest to.  The one who could best understand it.

 

He turned the TV on and resumed flipping through the channels.  The phone was on its third ring before he sat up and answered it.  “Hello,” he had considered screening the call.  Usually the only calls he got at this time were from sales people or someone soliciting for a charity.

 

“Larry, it’s Stacy.”  Her voice seemed somewhat rushed, almost panicky.  “Hey, I was just thinking about you.  Thanks for letting me pour my heart . . .”

 

“Are you watching the news?”  She cut him off so abruptly it made the hairs on the back of his neck tingle.  “No, I never watch . . .”

 

“Turn on channel four.”  He followed her instruction immediately and eased back into his chair.  “Yeah I saw this, some kind of drive by shooting.  Don’t you get tired of seeing these every . . .” This time he cut himself off.  On the screen was a news anchor.  In the corner of the screen was a picture with the word Victim captioned below it.  The smile on the picture was unmistakable.  “ . . . was pronounced dead at eight twenty five this evening,” were the last words he heard as he dropped the phone and drifted into unconsciousness.

 

They were in the park.  Geri reached over and grabbed Larry’s hand pulling forward and closer to him.  At first he was surprised, but her hand felt so natural in his.  She led him to a big tree by a lake.  She stopped and turned to him.  Their eyes locked as he pulled her closer.  He cautiously wrapped his arms around her, leaned over, and kissed her.  It was a moment for which he had waited a long time.  She seemed to melt in his arms and he in hers.

 

 

They found Larry the next morning.  He looked so relaxed in the chair.  Stacy couldn’t help noticing the smile on his face.  She smiled herself as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

 

The embrace seemed to last an eternity.  Larry was the one to pull away first.  As he looked at the smile on Geri’s face he felt a similar one forming on his own.  They stood unaware of their surroundings, locked in each others’ glance.  After a moment Geri tugged at Larry’s hand.  “Hey, let’s go to the movies.”

 

 

The End

[This ultamitley turned into chapter one of I guess what I could call a novella.  More to come? -- ggg]