“Because I’m too upset about that kid, and I’m not ready to see Larry and Brenda yet,” he said.
“Oh, well that’s as good a reason as any, I guess,” she said.
Watching him get back onto his lounge chair, Terry opened the screen door and went inside. Larry and Brenda - obviously just out of the shower with wet hair, Brenda in one of Larry’s white T shirts and Larry with nothing on top but his impressive pecs - were standing at the kitchen counter looking at takeout menus.
“Where’s the liquor?” Terry asked.
Larry pointed to a cooler in the dining room. “We haven’t unpacked anything yet,” he said. “Where’s Arvin?”
“Out on the sand. He saved some drowning kid’s life a little while ago,” she said reverently. “He’s a little upset.”
“Wow, what a coincidence that an ER physician just happened upon a drowning victim!” Brenda said.
“Arvin doesn’t know how to swim,” Larry said, frowning while he looked out the window.
“Someone else saved him, but Arvin did CPR. The paramedics said he probably saved his life, but Arvin isn’t sure. He could probably use some love.”
“Are you making him a drink?” Brenda asked.
“I am.” Terry held a bottle up and read the label. “Vodka. This is it.”
Larry disappeared, going right to Arvin. “Buddy, you’re a hero outside of the ER, too.”
“No, I’m not. I don’t have a good feeling about the kid,” Arvin said, looking out over the ocean.
“You know you have to let that go, just like at work. You do what you’re trained to do and then let the next group come along and do their job. It was a kid? His family is lucky you were there.”
“I guess,” Arvin said, feeling a little better.
“Vodka and tonic with a twist,” Brenda said, handing Arvin a frosty glass, while Terry sat down.
“Where are our lounge chairs?” Larry asked, looking out over the beach.
“Oh, poop,” Brenda said, pointing to two objects in the distance. “I think those are our chairs floating to Atlantic City.”
After sunset, after Larry successfully rescued their lounge chairs from the surf, they ordered dinner in. Still in their bathing suits, sitting around the newspaper-covered table, eating crabs with their fingers and drinking beer, they were all in the moment, no worries about what had happened before, or what lay in wait for their future.
“I’m going for a midnight swim,” Larry said.
“No you’re not,” Brenda replied. “Didn’t you see Jaws? No, no way.”
“It’s been a long day, and I’m drunk,” Arvin said. “Let’s get some sleep and tomorrow we’ll have the entire day to swim.”
“Osoba psująca zabawę,” Larry said in Polish.
“That sounded dirty,” Arvin said.
“He called you a party pooper,” Brenda said, laughing. She grabbed Larry’s hand and pulled him up. “Come on, husband. Let’s go to bed.”
“You two go ahead. I’ll clean up this mess,” Terry said. “Thank God for newspaper.”
Arvin ineffectually helped her clean up their crab mess. “This is turning me on,” he whispered in her ear, slurring his words.
“Wow, I’m so lucky,” Terry said, turning her back to grimace.
But she needn’t have worried, because as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. Relieved, Terry curled up with her back to Arvin and tried to sleep, hoping she didn’t snore. They had never slept in the same bed for an entire night and she wasn’t comfortable. Finally, falling asleep, sometime after three o’clock, Arvin woke her up.
“Terry, listen. They’re at it again! That Larry is a machine,” he said.
She got up on her elbows, not hearing anything right away, and then there it was, a little squeaking of the bed, some mumbled words, and then moaning.
In the bed on the other side of the wall, Larry was up on his knees holding Brenda’s legs wide apart, his penis rock hard and inside her. “I’m going to tease you,” he said, and he moved ever so slightly in and out, just enough to drive himself a little nutty. Then he’d bang it in, grabbing her ass.
Brenda loved having his attention on her like this, and she moved along with him, slowly when he wanted, or wild. “Don’t come,” she cried, her voice echoing through the wall.
He liked when she said that, and he stopped moving, eyes shut tight so he couldn’t see her beautiful face. “Don’t move for a second then,” he asked of her.
But it was her turn to tease him, so she grabbed him with her muscles, those Kegels were paying off, and it pushed him over the edge. “I can’t hold off any longer,” he cried, and they went a little crazy banging each other, and the headboard against the wall.
“Jesus! What’s he doing to her?” Arvin cried.
It was too late for Terry; she’d buried her face in her pillow and was screaming laughing, to tears.
The next morning, the newlyweds oblivious to the commotion they’d caused, came into the kitchen to find Terry and Arvin sitting at the table drinking coffee.
“Did you sleep well?” Brenda asked.
“For about five minutes,” Terry said.
“I slept like the dead,” Larry said, handing Brenda a cup of coffee.
“I had a dream that someone was yodeling,” Arvin said frowning. “It was pretty disturbing.”
“You drank too much cheap beer,” Larry said.
“Then someone was building something, banging the walls with a hammer.”
Brenda looked at him quizzically, and then turned away, smiling.
“Too much hot sauce on the crabs last night,” Terry said, snickering.
“Was that it?” Arvin said, one eyebrow lifted. “It was definitely too much hot something.”
When he got a chance, he unmercifully teased Larry about the headboard banging the wall.
“Sorry, buddy. I was unaware of anything but my dick last night. Why were you listening to us when you had that lush body in bed next to you? You should have been concentrating on Terry.”
“After listening to you two, we weren’t in the mood I guess,” Arvin said. “Terry doesn’t really do it for me. I mean I’ll fuck her because she’s there, but there’s no lust or anything like that.”
“Arvin, you’re a pig,” Brenda cried. “I heard that.”
“Oops, well as long as Terry isn’t around,” he said apologetically. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop.”
“Can I excuse myself? You brought this on yourself, buddy,” Larry said, going for the house.
“Why is she even here? I’m ashamed I introduced you to her,” Brenda said, on the verge of tears.
“I thought you wanted me to bring her along, that’s why,” Arvin replied defensively. “Look, Brenda, Terry knows we’re just going to be friends. We’ve talked and we both agree we are only friends. If she can accept that, you should be able to.”
“Oh my God, you are so full of yourself! Why didn’t I know that about you? Larry is going to get an earful.”
“Please don’t involve him,” Arvin pleaded. “We have to work together.”
“And he should know you’re a dog,” Brenda said, giving in and breaking into an old fashioned crying jag.
Inside the house, Terry watched the interaction between Arvin and Brenda on the beach. “What’s going on out there?” she asked when Larry came in.
“Brenda’s trying to get Arvin to grow up,” he answered.
“Ugh, I hope it’s not about me,” she replied.
“Why do you keep seeing him if you know there’s no future?” Larry asked, sitting down across from her.
“Hmm. That’s a tough question. Brenda knows this, just an FYI. I want to make partner. That’s really my only goal. Arvin is nice to know. We have fun, as he says. There are no strings attached, so I really don’t have to spend a second worrying about him,” Terry said. “Now this is the way I feel today. Tomorrow, I might feel used and hurt. But right now, I can handle it.”
“You’re gorgeous. If you don’t mind me saying this, Terry, you have a smokin’ hot body and you’re smart and funny, too. You deserve a man who appreciates that. Let me introduce you to someone else,” Larry said. “I feel responsible.”
“Oh Larry, you’re not responsible at all. I’m a big girl. I should have stopped seeing Arvin after the first week. I ignored all the signs because I wanted it to work out between us.”
“Brenda will be upset,” he said.
“She already is,” Terry replied. “Trust me, when I’ve had enough of him, I’ll let some time pass before I see him again.”
Or until I get horny, she thought, disgusted with herself.
After a summer of almost bliss, Brenda and Larry adapted to the rhythm of a life together. Once the shore house rental ended, demanding jobs left little time for relationship building, so what they had acquired during their summer of love was cyclically built upon and then drained, two steps forward, one step back. Finding a mutual interest outside of sex and each other was more difficult until a plumbing mishap initiated the renovation of their Pine Street brownstone the following fall. The couple’s social life now centered on home improvement seminars. They added every tool and piece of carpentry equipment available to their pile of wedding gifts.
“If you had told me last year that my life would revolve around learning to put up subway tile in a powder room, I’d have laughed in your face. But all I can think about is getting home, throwing something into the oven for Larry’s dinner and getting my work clothes on so I can cut tile in the backyard.”
“Wow,” Terry said. “That’s amazing! They say those kinds of activities are what help keep marriage strong. If you don’t have something you’re both passionate about, the relationship gets stale or something like that.”
“The focus was our sex life. Now, if one of us feels like doing it, I just pull down my pants in the sawdust, bend over and we do it. On Larry’s day off, we might do it in bed. But the rest of the time, we just get satisfied and move on. I hope that’s okay.”
“Whatever you two are doing seems to be working fine,” Terry said. “Arvin told me Larry has never been happier. I can see with my own eyes that you’ve found your pace with Larry. That’s so wonderful.”
“So, you’re seeing Arvin again,” Brenda said smiling.
“We’re friends. Just friends. He’s so much fun, I can’t not see him. He stood me up again last summer, and since then we don’t make dates, ever. Once in a while he might say let’s do so and so, but I put the kibosh on it right away. I’ll go out of my way to see him once a month or so. It’s enough to keep me from feeling like a complete eunuch.”
“Oh, Terry, I’m so sorry,” Brenda said, mortified for her friend. “How did it come to this?”
“No one is interested in dating me,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders. “You don’t have to deny it. I accept it. I want to make partner. I’ve been here a year and everything I’ve read said ten years at least before most firms will even consider a partnership. So that’s my focus.”
“My focus was passing the bar and getting a job and I did both and still found Larry. It will happen when you least expect it,” Brenda said, meaning it.
“I really don’t care,” Terry said, lying. “I don’t think it will happen for me.”
“I guess I’d better get back to work. Vince said I’m going to court with you tomorrow. I’ll be real lawyer! Yippee.”
“Brenda, you’ll be fine, I promise,” Terry said.
“I know it. But I’d rather be tiling my bathroom,” she replied.
At five, Brenda said goodbye, grabbed her coat and headed for home, a few blocks’ walk. She stopped at the falafel truck and got four different entrees for dinner; Larry was bound to like one of them. Once home, she put the bags of food in the refrigerator and ran upstairs to their bedroom to put her work clothes on: ripped-up jeans, a Saint Joseph’s University sweatshirt, and her hair tucked up under one of Larry’s baseball caps.
For the next hour and a half, she mindlessly cut tile, matching it to the exact size on Larry’s perfectly executed diagram. She numbered the backs of the tiles to the corresponding numbers on the diagram. Once they were all cut, she’d take them into the house and begin the tiling process.
“Hey, beautiful. What are you doing out here?”
Turning the saw off first, she looked up to see handsome Larry on the back porch, smiling down at her.
“Wow, how do I rate?” she asked. “You are so handsome.”
“You’ve got it wrong,” he said. “I just came home to find a beautiful woman cutting tile in my backyard. It doesn’t get any better than this.”
“I’m almost done,” she said. “I’ll box this up and be right in.”
He jumped off the porch and came to help her, stretching over to kiss her. They boxed up the cut tile pieces and Larry carried them into the house.
“I waited all day to do this,” she said. “I couldn’t wait to get home.”
“Me too!” Larry replied. “We’ll be done with the powder room by this weekend. I’m going to hire someone to do the drywall in the living room.”
“Wow, that’s a great idea,” she said, relieved. “I keep reading how difficult it is.”
“Well, forget it. We can do the creative stuff, but drywall can go to the experts. I’m afraid of heights anyway.”
“Ha! Me too,” she said. “Middle Eastern for dinner tonight.”
“From the truck?”
“Yep,” she said. “We’ll both smell like cumin now.”
Leaning over, he gave her kiss. “I’ll put the tile in the powder room and change my clothes. I’m going to start putting it on the wall tonight.”
“Oh honey, it’s so late. Aren’t you tired?” Brenda asked.
“I’m off tomorrow,” he said. “So the night is ours.”
“Well, it’s technically yours because I have court tomorrow, so I’d better be in bed by eleven.”
“You’re going to court?”
“Yep. Vince told me today I’m going to start going with Terry, and she has jury selection tomorrow. It’s about time, don’t you think?” Brenda asked, watching him.
“I don’t think anything,” he said. “You know how I feel about it. If you want to clerk for the rest of your life, that’s okay with me. If we have kids it might actually make it a little easier for you.”
She didn’t want to start that conversation at eight at night, so she told him to change and she’d heat dinner.
Quickly getting out a linen tablecloth that had been a wedding gift and spreading it over the table, she didn’t see any reason to save the stuff for good. Good was now. Uncorking a bottle of wine next, she poured half glasses, not wanting Larry to get too hammered before his tiling adventure. She was a stickler about it, using spacers and getting everything exactly lined up. Larry was more artistic. Mosaic would be a good medium for him, but not subway tile in the powder room.
They ate their street food in the small dining space overlooking their neighbor’s lighted fishpond, making small talk and laughing together. “This is perfect,” Larry said, leaning back in his chair. “Thank you so much for the relaxing meal.”
Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. The simple gesture was so intimate, it seemed to make up for all the recent slights and omissions they’d suffered upon their marriage. She couldn’t remember him ever kissing her hand, and she closed her eyes to try to remember it.
“Why are your eyes closed?” he whispered, coming in closer to kiss her neck.
“I’m memorizing every detail of this moment,” she said. “When you came home tonight and stood on the porch, you were so handsome, it jolted me. I’m married to you, Larry Babula; I don’t ever want to take that for granted.”
“I don’t feel taken for granted at all,” he said. “I come home every night to a beautiful woman who works right alongside me to achieve our dream.”
“What is our d
ream?” she asked, looking into his eyes. “We’ve never really talked about the future.”
“We’re making our dreams unfold as we work,” he said. “We set high professional goals for ourselves. Now we’re building our dream home.”
“Thank God for a rotting sewage pipe or we’d never have known we wanted to do this,” she said.
“Hey, I think about it all the time! We could have bought a fixer-upper and saved a ton of money. But that’s okay. Are you okay with the way it turned out?”
“Larry, I’m fine with it, truly. It’s all good. I keep pinching myself to see if it’s really true. I’m a lawyer, and I married a doctor. That sounds like a corny script.”
“And we’re both hot,” he teased.
Sliding out of her seat, Brenda got on his lap, threading her arms around him, kissing his neck, and then his ear, his purposeful five-o’clock shadow a little heavier because of the hour.
“Your beard is tickling me,” she said, and he stuck his bristle-covered chin out at her, moving it up and down.
“You know what I’d like to be doing right now, don’t you?” he asked, sticking his tongue out at her.
Blushing, Brenda giggled and buried her face in his neck. “I’ll have to shower,” she said shyly.
“Let’s shower together,” he said, pushing her off his lap. “Come on beautiful, I’m hot now and it’s your fault.”
“Oh my God,” she said. “If Sister Mary could see me now.”
“Or Sister Angela,” Larry said. “She’d beat the crap out of me with a ruler if she knew.”
Holding Brenda’s hand, Larry led her up the stairs, through their bedroom and into the bathroom.
“Do you want me to do a striptease?” she asked.
“No. I’ll take them off.” He pulled her college sweatshirt over her head. “Aw, you have your lacy bra on,” he said.
“Always,” she replied, standing with her arms out at her sides.
Unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, he pulled them down with her underpants in one movement. He’d let her little blond bush grow back and it was staring him in the eye as he pulled the pant legs off her while Brenda leaned on him.
Bittersweets - Brenda and Larry: Steamy Romance Page 10
