Lobster Box

by Cheri Crystal

  I hate like hell to admit this but I believed her even after the icy asphalt had us slipping and a sliding despite the salt and sand they sprinkled to prevent hazards.

  “It has to be well below zero out here.” We shivered in unison and I was looking forward to getting into a warm car when my tush nearly froze clear off my body.

  “Oh shit! You said it would be warm. It’s colder in here than outside.”

  “You believed me?”

  I playfully slapped her arm, which hadn’t a chance in hell during a blizzard of penetrating her goose down jacket.

  Our first date was a blast. She got the biggest kick out of teasing me and took advantage of my gullibility and naïve nature. By the end of the evening, I knew I wanted to get to know her better and hoped she would teach me city girl tricks. We went back to my house and chatted over low fat hot chocolate and high fiber oatmeal carob chip cookies. When she swore my cookies tasted just as good as Toll House chocolate chips, I knew she was pulling my leg and promptly threatened her with a potch in the tuchas. It was refreshing to date someone who understood Yiddish for a ‘kick in the butt.’

  “You promise?”

  “Hrmff, not if you enjoy it,” I teased.

  “There’s plenty of meat on this tush, so you don’t scare me.”

  “It’s a tushee to be proud of.” I was enjoying our bantering and hadn’t noticed the time fly until there wasn’t a crumb left on our dessert plates.

  “You did like them. I’ll have you know I slaved in the kitchen getting that recipe just right to taste great, have the right mouth feel of fat and sweetness of sugar with a third of the taboo ingredients and still be able to label it healthy.”

  “Your hard work was not lost on me. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I didn’t care if I was beaming my fool head off. It was rare to have a guest who wasn’t just being polite to eat my health food and more importantly didn’t gag when I revealed I had added oat bran, wheat germ, tofu or flax seed meal. My mother refused to even try anything that had extra skim milk powder in it. She was a lost cause when it came to promoting better eating habits. I was busy wondering if Leslie would be as stubborn as most people when she stood and smoothed out her pants taking me out of my head and back down to earth. I always did have a way of getting ahead of myself and didn’t want to make that mistake of getting attached too quickly. A first date a permanent relationship did not make—or something like that.

  “Well, I better get going. I had fun.” With a mere chaste kiss on the lips, I was inexplicably smitten. I didn’t appreciate women who right away went straight for the tonsils. Leslie’s kiss, although I longed for more, I could appreciate.

  “I’ll call you,” she said, and left. I don’t know how long I remained planted by the door, but I do know I somehow floated up to my bedroom and had quite pleasant, if not X-rated, dreams.

  ::::::

  I counted the hours since she had said, “I’ll call you,” which extended into days. It was a whole week when I gave up hope. Eight days later, while studying for a graduate biochemistry test, the telephone startled me out of my stupor. I ran up two flights of stairs to the kitchen to get the phone and tripped over the top step. I stubbed my toe and yelped.

  “Hello?” I hopped up and down while rubbing my bare foot.

  “Hey, Laurie? How are you? You sound short of breath. Is everything okay?”

  Her voice was full of concern; I forgot to be mad at her for making me wait. Instantly the pain in my toe vanished, blood surged through my veins, my heart rate soared, and my mouth went dry.

  “I’m good. I was in the basement.” I cleared my throat and reached into the fridge for seltzer. Against my better judgment, I was tempted to add a hefty serving of U-bet chocolate syrup, but I already had plenty of endorphins just listening to her sexy voice.

  We chatted about nothing and everything. Then she asked, “Do you want to go out next Saturday?”

  “Sure, where?”

  “Somewhere near you.”

  It was instant replay and my heart leaped for joy. “You like roller skating? There’s a rink practically down the block from my house.”

  “Are you sure you can find it?” She teased.

  “Yes. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have the worst sense of direction on the planet.”

  “I don’t know everyone on the planet,” she quipped.

  “Ha, ha.” It was a good thing she couldn’t see my ridiculously huge grin.

  ::::::

  USA Skates was fun.

  “I remember the day they opened this place. We couldn’t wait to get inside. The lines were around the block,” I said.

  “What year was that?”

  “I think ’71, but I’d have to look it up. It’s a popular hangout. Where do you go?”

  “Mamaroneck, but it’s been years since then. Years I tell you.”

  “Don’t you fret, Chet, I’ll hold your hand.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  As soon as we had a good pace going, Leslie landed on her butt while showing off, and we laughed until we cried.

  “Come on, I’ll buy you a soda.”

  “Only if they have seltzer. I’m trying to be good.”

  “Surely you splurge a little?”

  “Sure, I do, but I don’t make a habit out of it.” I didn’t add that I was falling for her and the last thing on my mind was food. I seemed to subsist on the air that she breathed, the space she occupied, learning all there was to know about her, and the multitude of thoughts I had about kissing her right there, right then. Corny, I know, but I couldn’t get her out of my head and it was all the fuel I needed. No sugary drink would make me feel as sated as her sweet smile.

  By the time we got back to her ’78 Corolla, she’d put her arm around my waist and pulled me in for our first real kiss. With my tush up against the cold car door and our down jackets between us, I could only imagine her firm breasts and round belly, but I felt every ripple of her muscular thighs between mine. With gloved hands, she covered my ears to warm them as our lips melded.

  “Hmm, that’s delicious,” I said as I tasted her lips, parting mine to allow her tongue access.

  “You’re beautiful.” She breathed the words into my ear, sending goose bumps down my spine.

  “You too.”

  Her face was like ice, but her mouth, so warm and welcoming, heated me to the core. I desperately wanted to move further south towards her other warmth, but my mother’s warning about cows and milk came back to haunt me. I willed my libido to slow down. She was too important to risk giving it away for free. My dilemma was soon forgotten. She reached around me and opened the car door. I fell into the seat and she tumbled in after me. We didn’t go all the way that night, but her kisses were out of this world.

  I can’t remember her driving us back to my house, but I can remember every detail about her talented tongue and passionate embrace that left us both breathless.

  She prepared to part and before she left she held me at arm’s length to peer into my eyes. “There’s a great place on City Island I’d love to show you. Are you up for lobster and all the trimmings?”

  “Lobster?” She was a medical resident and lobster dinners weren’t cheap. I could offer to split the bill.

  “Oy, I should have asked first. Do you keep kosher?”

  “Me? No. I love lobster, bacon, and veal parmesan is my favorite. If that means I’m going straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect $200, then too bad.”

  “Good because you’ll have more fun in hell with the rest of us. How about we try Lobster Box next Saturday night?”

  “Lobster Box?” I grinned. “Great name.”

  “Don’t start. I’m sure that’s not what they meant. If you’d rather go to Seashore, we could do that instead.”

  “No way, I think the box sounds like a lot more fun.” I winked, and then I remembered teasing wasn’t fair if I wasn’t planning on putting out. I tucked away my grin by s
ucking the insides of my cheeks with my teeth, which only served to make me resemble a fish. Leslie tried to keep a straight face, but she ended up laughing her ass off and so did I.

  “Well? Are you game?” She looked at me expectantly.

  I had forgotten I hadn’t answered her question. “Sure, I’m game.”

  She pointed her finger and pulled an imaginary trigger. Good, I think you’ll like it.”

  “I’m working 7-3 next weekend and will be in the Bronx.”

  “Perfect. You can come over after work, shower, change, and we’ll go. I only have rounds at Jacoby in the morning. Just park in the garage across from my building. I’ll give you directions, if you promise to follow them.”

  “I’d love it!” I hoped I didn’t sound too enthusiastic but it was easy to tell when I was excited and after twenty-three years, I doubted there was much chance of changing without a personality transplant.

  “Great, see you then.”

  She hopped into her car for the long trip back home. Approximately thirty four miles between us seemed like an insurmountable distance even in the early stages of our relationship. I gave her a leisurely smooch for the road and reluctantly went back into the house after she started the engine. I didn’t close the front door until long after she’d gone.

  It was the best date ever. Edna didn’t miss a trick commenting on my glow, vim and vigor. Infatuation had me buzzing around the nursing home believing I was Wonder Woman and that I’d cure the world and restore youth through proper eating habits alone.

  ::::::

  Leslie and I spoke on the phone every night, sometimes for hours if time allowed, yet ending our conversation and waiting to see her was sheer torture the likes of which I’d hadn’t experienced before. This had to mean something because I’d never anticipated seeing anyone quite the way I did with Leslie.

  The Friday before our lobster date, I’d hardly slept, yet I felt more refreshed than ever when Saturday finally rolled around. I must have dozed off some because I woke up early hugging my pillow as if it were Leslie in my arms. It was unbelievable how easy going in for the early shift was when spring was in the air, the birds were chirping outside my window, and I was going to meet my girl for a fancy dinner.

  My suitcase was packed for days. After much deliberation, I’d eventually settled on lined navy wool slacks, a fitted white V-neck sweater that showed off ample cleavage and my comfy old Frye boots. All I needed to add was a change of undies, Charlie cologne for that outdoorsy, not too girly, scent, and a few other toiletries. I stuffed the last minute items in a small hippy overnight bag with ‘groovy’ flowers in psychedelic colors over a black background and headed to work.

  The day dragged, but three o’clock eventually came. I punched out and drove to Leslie’s. Her directions were perfecto mundo – I only got lost for fifteen minutes due to my preoccupation laced with anxiety about meeting her family for the first time. I’d already bitten off the cuticles of my left hand when I started chewing on the right. Don’t forget it was only 1980 and although New York and the Melting Pot, it was hardly a gay-friendly mecca. Leslie’s family knew she was a lesbian. She told me her sisters were cool with it, but her parents preferred to pretend all was kosher and she’d find the right man someday.

  I rang the bell and took a deep breath. The hallway smelled like garlic and stale cigarette smoke. A young woman answered the door.

  “Hi. Laurie, right? I’m Dara, Leslie’s terrific looking sister.”

  What a knockout Dara was…and modest too. She sported a huge solitaire diamond engagement ring that was hard to miss, unless you were checking out her double D’s perched high upon her chest. She moved aside so that I could pass, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get in without some contact with her breasts. The apartment was hot, and I shrugged off my jacket at once. Dara took my coat and flung it on the couch just inside the door.

  “Lez, your friend’s here,” she called, as she put a tape in the Sony Betamax and plopped her well-shaped buttcass on the sofa in front of the TV. I had to stop myself from gawking, but when Leslie came out to greet me, Dara ceased to exist. I smiled wistfully and appreciated how amazing Leslie looked in clean blue scrubs with wet hair, just washed skin, and Albert Einstein College of Medicine written to the left of her heart.

  “Come here.” She grasped my hand and leaned in for a kiss. My body involuntarily stiffened when our lips met in front of her sister. Dara didn’t seem to notice nor did she care. Leslie led me to the kitchen, and I obediently followed. At that point, I’d follow her anywhere. The kitchen was decorated in avocado green with a walnut Formica dinette set and matching chairs covered in vinyl upholstered seats and back rests. I’d seen this style many times before, including my mom’s kitchen. I immediately felt at home.

  “Can I get you a snack or something to drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  She poured herself some cranberry juice, and I licked my lips as the dark red liquid entered her mouth and quickly disappeared.

  In her room with the door closed, I got a proper kiss. She pulled away and glanced at the clock. “I made early reservations, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course. I’ve been up since five. I could eat.”

  “You could, could you? Shame you can’t stay over tonight. I mean, you have a long commute and we live about five minutes from your job.”

  “I don’t mind.” I heard what she said, but I didn’t trust myself to continue the flirting. The proximity and my current state of arousal had me desperate to rip off her scrubs.

  “My parents are playing cards at Edna’s later – she lives three floors up – and my dad spends an eternity in the bathroom before they go. Do you need a nap or would you like to shower and change now?”

  “I’m not tired. A shower would be great, thanks.”

  She handed me two towels and brand new bar of Ivory soap. I kissed her in return and headed for the bathroom. What a funny set up, I thought, unaccustomed to apartment living. There were two bathrooms in close proximity: one with a shower, sink and commode and the other with just a sink and toilet. Leslie’s bedroom was the first room on the right off the narrow hallway opposite the bathrooms. Further along the corridor, the walls were filled with enough family photos to almost obliterate any notice of the dated felt fleur de lis patterned wallpaper. I perused her parent’s wedding photo, everyone’s baby pictures and Bat Mitzvah photos in various sizes in an eclectic assortment of frames from antique to modern when I my gaze was glued to Leslie’s baby picture.

  “Oh my god, but you were the cutest baby ever!” I reached out to touch the photo.

  “Don’t look at that,” she said, covering her bare baby behind with her hand.

  “I had no idea you were a nudist, though.”

  “I was an infant!”

  “With an adorable tushee. I could pinch those cheeks.”

  “Okay, enough of that.”

  She took my hand. “Allow me to show you the rest of the house. I don’t want you to meander into the wrong room wearing only a towel.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.”

  Leslie pointed out the room her sisters shared at the end of the hall. We poked our head in and peaked into her parent’s bedroom beside it. Their room was furthest away from Leslie’s but not entirely far enough from earshot, not that I was going down the road of worrying about the sounds Leslie and I might make in the night.

  “You saw the living room right off the den, a term I use loosely since it’s really only a tiny sitting room we use as the main entertainment center, dumping grounds, what have you.”

  “It works for me.”

  “You also saw my room, and the kitchen, and that’s it.” She gave my hand a squeeze. I had to move or melt.

  “I guess I’d better get that shower now.”

  “You better.” She left me to it. I stood there for several minutes with no idea what to do next as if this was going to be a brand new experience. Where was my brain when I needed it?
Surely I could summon up how to turn on a strange faucet.

  Once I had it going the hot water felt good; however, what I really needed was a cold shower. I toyed with the idea of taking the edge off with a swift autoerotic interlude, but I couldn’t bring myself to do touch myself in her house, even if the locked door and lack of a window lent itself to the utmost privacy. The thought of sex was swiftly lost as a painful twinge shot through my belly. At first the bloating only served to engorge the areas in dire need of gentle stroking but as time wore on, the twinges became cramps. I dreaded to think my period was due early and dismissed the thought as if ignoring the obvious would make it go away.

  If it was even possible, I was getting more bloated by the second. Why hadn’t I packed anything other than my lined navy slacks with its unforgiving waistband? I had to lie on the floor and even then, the zipper wouldn’t budge.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” The bathroom floor wasn’t long enough to stretch my legs, which didn’t help. I started to sweat from the steamy room and cursed again when I heard a tap on the door. I sucked in my breath and tugged at the zipper, until it caught.

  Leslie shouted, “Are you all right in there?”

  I tried one last ditch effort to close the pants and the zipper broke.

  “Dammit!”

  She knocked harder. “Laurie, what’s going on?”

  I had no choice. I opened the door and told her what happened. “I have nothing else to wear.”

  “Oh, is that all? I thought you were hurt. We’ll find you something.”

  “Thanks,” I said, sheepishly.

  “Come on.”

  I loved the way she protectively took my hand, but a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I groaned, and she stopped.

  “Are you okay?”

  “My stomach is killing me.” I tried to hide my broken zipper under my sweater.

  “Do you want Maalox or something?”

  “Yeah, that and some aspirin would be great.”

  “You want to stay in tonight? We’ll have the place to ourselves.”