“Join me for dinner?”
“Sure.” Angie spun around, expecting to see Edsel in his overalls. But tonight, he was wearing slacks and a polo shirt—which, for Edsel, was formal attire.
“What’s the matter? You’re looking at me funny.”
“Well, you’re just so… dressed up. What’s the occasion?”
“It’s Saturday night, and I’m having dinner with Miss Angie.”
She hadn’t been a ‘miss’ since she was in her twenties, but she thought it was sweet when Edsel called her that. “Okay.” But she knew there must be more to it. Edsel had never dressed up like this to come over for dinner. He usually just washed up a little, and stayed in his work clothes.
“This time you won’t have to wipe down the chair after I leave.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Yes, you do. I saw you the other night. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t come in here when I’m all greasy.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“Well, are you hungry?”
“I’m starving. And my feet are killing me.”
“Good time for a break then.”
She turned to one of her waitresses. “Shelly? We’re gonna take Table Twelve.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“And we’ll have iced tea.”
“I’ll bring it right over.”
Good, thought Edsel. Table Twelve was in the back corner.
He and Angie walked to their table, and sat down.
After a few moments of listening to the band Edsel said, “The Fiddlers sure sound good tonight.”
“Yep,” said Angie. “They always do.”
Shelly delivered their iced teas, and took their order.
Angie’s cell phone rang. When she saw who was calling, she said, “Not again.”
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s Clifford. He’s started up again.”
“He just can’t let you go, can he?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.” She got up and walked to her office.
Edsel sat at the table, wondering if Angie would ever get back together with her ex, Clifford Silverstern. His family had money—tons of the stuff. They owned a bank, a jewelry store, a funeral home, a hotel, and a fancy Italian restaurant.
Edsel couldn’t believe it when Angie started dating him years ago. He knew she wouldn’t marry him for money. She must have truly been in love with the putz. The day of the wedding was the lowest point in Edsel’s life. For a moment, he had toyed with the idea of jumping off the Rainbow Bridge.
After a year or so, Angie began to see Clifford for who he really was. But she was too stubborn to give up on the marriage. She toughed it out for another fifteen years. Near the end, even her father, Herman, was begging her to get out. He had come to hate Clifford for making his daughter miserable.
Unfortunately, Herman Maberly hated Edsel just as much as he hated Clifford. If the old man were to walk in and see her eating dinner with Edsel, he’d probably go home and get his shotgun.
Angie walked back to the table shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Clifford just doesn’t get it. There are plenty of women around town who’d jump at the chance to be with him. But the more I tell him I don’t want him, the more determined he is to get me back.”
Shelly brought their food.
“Wow, that was fast,” said Edsel. “Smells good.”
They listened to the band and watched couples Two-Step around the floor while they ate. Edsel decided to save the important talk until after dinner.
“How about some cherry pie for dessert? We baked them this afternoon,” she said.
He smiled. “You know I can’t resist your cherry pie, Angie.”
“Okay. I’ll go get us some.”
In less than five minutes, she hurried back with the two plates. “I hope I didn’t give you too much ice cream,” said Angie.
“Not at all.” Edsel grinned with delight. There was no dessert on earth better than Angie’s cherry pie, topped with Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream.
“Oops, I forgot. I’m supposed to be helping you eat healthier. Let me just take that back in the kitchen and I’ll—”
“—don’t you dare,” he said, guarding his plate with both hands.
She smiled. “Just kidding. It’s okay to splurge every once in a while.”
Edsel’s mouth was already full of pie and ice cream. He mumbled in agreement.
“It’s nice when we sit down together for a meal like this. We should do it more often.”
“Well, you’re always so busy running this place,” he said. “You ought to hire somebody to help you manage it.”
“Me? What about you? If you’d hire another mechanic, you wouldn’t have to work seven days a week.”
“Folks don’t trust anybody else to work on their cars. That’s why they bring them to me. They don’t want some green kid tricking around under the hood.”
“I know.”
They finished their desserts.
“Angie?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?”
“Well, you know that we’ve been friends for a long time.”
“Forever.”
“Yeah. And you know I like spending time with you.”
“Sure. Me too.”
“Well… “
There was only one couple on the dance floor, doing the Texas Two-Step. It’s a dance that involves quick, precise movements with your partner, and spinning counterclockwise around the floor. Sometimes the woman hangs onto the man with her right hand by putting a couple of fingers through one of his belt loops. Usually, he’s wearing blue jeans, so the belt loops are strong.
But perhaps this particular belt loop had already seen too much action. It ripped loose, causing the woman to lose her balance. Her partner tripped. Then they tripped on each other, unable to catch themselves. Finally, they fell on top of a table. The top broke off its base, and tipped downward, sending plates of food airborne. People at the nearby tables gasped.
Angie jumped up, and ran over to help. “Is everybody okay?”
The man helped his dance partner get up. “Be careful, Honey, there’s gravy all over the floor.”
The two women that had been sitting at the table were now standing, looking at the dinner they had just begun to eat, strewn across the dance floor.
“I’m so sorry. We’ll cook you up a fresh dinner right away. I’m buying tonight. And I’ll even throw in a dessert.”
“Thanks, Angie. But you don’t have to do that. We’ll pay for our own dinner.”
“No, no. I insist.”
By the time she had things under control, and went back to her table, Edsel was gone.
“Shelly, I’m gonna walk over to Edsel’s. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
The shop door was locked. Edsel never locked up the shop while he was inside. So, she walked around back to his house. She knocked a few times, but he didn’t answer. Maybe he went for a walk, she thought.
She headed back to the restaurant, curious about what Edsel wanted to tell her. They would have time to talk tomorrow, on the way to Ralph’s birthday party.
*
“Hey, Blondie Boobs, come give me a lick.” The eighteen year-old winked at Sondra, and laughed with his buddies. He was the tallest in the group.
Sondra was leading her band toward the stage to get ready for their performance. She told them to go on without her. She would join them in a few minutes.
She strutted up to the boy, and gave him a sexy smile. “So, you want a piece of me?”
“Well, sure,” he said, struggling to sustain his cockiness. “You’re hot.”
His buddies were clearly impressed with their fearless leader.
“Come with me,” she said, as she took his hand. Then she turned back, and leaned in close to his friends, to speak confidentially. They gathered around her. “Don’t worry boys—I’ll try not to make him too sore.” She led him away.
“Go, Ryan,” said one of his buddies.
Sondra peeked into the girl’s bathroom, and saw that it was unoccupied. She yanked him inside, and took him to a stall, pushed him in forcefully, and got in with him. Then she closed and locked the door. She could see the excitement in his eyes. And the fear.
“Let’s see what you’ve got to offer.” She ripped his shirt open, and a couple of buttons popped off. “Oh, very nice.” She massaged his chest with both hands. “How does that feel?”
“Good. Real good.”
She worked her right hand down to his crotch.
Ryan moaned. He was no longer worried about whether somebody might catch them. He wasn’t worried about anything.
She rubbed him gently between the legs, and then held him in the palm of her hand—like a couple of big grapes. “How’s this?”
He tried to speak, but nothing decipherable came out.
“And how about this?” She clamped down hard.
He tried to push her away, but she squeezed even tighter. “Please, stop!”
“Have you learned your lesson?” If he gave the wrong answer, she would use both hands to crush him with all her might, until his hanging fruit burst wide open.
Tears ran down both cheeks. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Tell me what you’ve learned.”
“Could you let go first?”
She loosed her grip—slightly. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”
“Not to mess with you.”
“Good. And what else?”
“Not to mess with any woman?”
“Right. No matter… “
Ryan had no idea what she wanted him to say.
She tried again. “No matter… “
“No matter how hot she is?”
“Good. And no matter how… “
“Ugly?”
She clamped down hard, and he thought he was about to pass out. He prayed he would pass out.
“What?” he said. “What do you want me to say?”
“Never mind.” She released her grip, and pushed him down on the toilet seat.
As soon as she was gone, he stood up, and pulled down his pants to check the damage. To his amazement, everything was still intact, and he was not bleeding.
Sondra had left the stall door ajar. And Ryan was still in the process of examining himself when a girl pushed the door open, and started to walk into the stall. But when she saw him there, bent over, touching himself, she screamed and ran out of the bathroom.
That’s okay, he thought. Wait until he told the guys about what he had done with the hot lead singer in the girl’s bathroom. He’d be a legend—as long as his story didn’t get back to Sondra. Oh, he’d still be a legend. He’d just be dead… or castrated.
If given a choice, he’d opt for dead.