Wednesday night in DC
Donna entered the theater, she bought a ticket to the 7:35 show and headed to the popcorn stand, ordered a medium and a large bottled water. She wondered the long neon lit faux plaster and marble hallways and rounded the corner into theater number 7. She sat midway up, just left of center in the row. In a way, she felt dirty, like she was doing something forbidden, she was on the other side of town, in a place 30 minutes out of her way. She shut off her “regular” cell phone checks the coverage on her new phone, set it to vibrate and tucked it under her right thigh incase it rang so she could feel it. She’s casual, a knee length summer skirt, a faded yellow polo and a fleece pull over in case she got cold, staring mindlessly at the pre-show trivia questions on the screen she stopped to notice the people who were filtering in around her. She worried that he wouldn’t show, she worried that she might run into someone she knew from somewhere who will question why she’s where she is. The fears weren’t at all rational, she was not on parole and in place she wasn’t supposed to be. She was a grown woman, in a newer movie theater, in a middle class neighborhood, worrying passed the time, it’s just now 7:15. Five minutes of sitting and wondering, where is he? He showed up at exactly 7:20 entering the theater and noticed her hair was pulled back into a pony tail, she looked almost collegiate. She looked to her right as he entered the row. She wasn’t early because she had miscalculated the time, or expected delays or had fears of being late. She was early because she wanted a few minutes to talk before the show began. Nothing serious, nothing upsetting, or pressing or particularly urgent. She just wanted to talk, about something or nothing or whatever, in the end it really didn’t matter. “I was worried you weren’t coming” she said only half joking, she did worry when she was the first one anywhere, it didn’t matter that she was ridiculously early, she always thought someone else should be there with her, as stupidly early as she was. With out pausing he said, “I’m on time, fifteen minutes early, Lombardi time!” Looking at him with a mocking disdain, he went on to explain what Lombardi times was and how it started with players being late for the bus on road trips and all the stupid details behind the story. She knew what Lombardi time was, didn’t most of the world, but it didn’t matter they were talking, it wasn’t important, it wasn’t insightful, but it was what she wanted the simple exchange of words between them. “Phone”, she said as the lights dimmed. And just as she spoke his regular phone rang, it was Christy. He answered… “At the movies.” Then he listened, “It’s starting can I call you later?” he listened again “Ok, give me a few hours, it’s starting.”. Donna just rolled her eyes, she knew who it was and she knew what she wanted, to know where he was, “She can’t stand losing control.” Donna stated.
“Losing control, over what my free time? In the rare case that I have any.” The husker grumbled. “I’m a grown man for Christ’s sake, even Ashcroft snuck out from time to time to watch the Simpson’s.” The truth is that John Ashcroft was a huge Simpsons fan, he would tape the episodes and play them late at night in his office for himself and whatever other staffers didn’t want to go home. “Shush, the movie’s starting.”
Mean while Christy poured over his calendar, while across town he set both of his phones to vibrate, deciding then to turn the regular phone to off. He finally settled in next to her, his knee gently touching hers, his right leg and her left touching ever so slightly from knee to calve. Mean while Christy stared at his online schedule and tried to figure out what “out” meant from 6:30 on that day, typically Robert was so much more detailed than that. Perhaps it was time to call Mommy, this was too much of a change and she was worried. Much like Donna, Christy worried about things she shouldn’t have, but not out of concern or doubt, but out of her need to know and control things. Things that she didn’t necessarily need to know and in truth had no control over.
After 20 minutes of previews and a ninety minute movie, the couple had laughed through, perhaps laughing mostly at times that were not particularly funny or meant to be laughed at. They headed for their cars. The husker walked her to hers, kissed her a familiar gentle kiss good night. Not the kind of lurid post movie groping of a younger couple or anyone in the throes of passion, but the kind a husband who still is very much in love with his wife would give when leaving for a while. It had been years since she had been kissed that way, she worried, was he thinking of things she wasn’t, did he feel for her in ways she didn’t feel for him, did he intend things that she had no desire for? For him it was just a kiss, it was only a kiss. More affectionate than with mere acquaintances, appropriate for lovers in the early stages of their relationship, most likely not, but he had far less carnal needs on his mind. Mother had called the new phone twice during the movie and he suspected he knew why. “I’ll call you later. OK?” he asked.
“Sure,” Donna replied with a tentative tone, why was he asking of he could call her they were beyond that stage in life and relationship
“Look I’ve got to deal with something before it gets out of hand.” He said, “My mother called the new phone twice during the movie, I think I know why and I’m not happy.” “OK, call me later” and with that he kissed her one last time and slowly removed his arms from around her not really wanting to let go. She didn’t know what she wanted, it was getting complicated quickly, but instead of a wife, it was a coworker and a mother getting in the mix. Donna would head home, remembering to turn her regular phone on halfway there.
Around the same time Tiffany and company showed up at Ozio, there was a jazz/blues band in the background and Nadrea and a few friends were sitting around a table. Drinking Martini’s, she had already had several by the time the girls arrived. It was a mixture of Nadrea’s party friends, and passersby’s in a life that left many drowning in its wake. Nadrea was to the DC party scene what Andy Dick is to celebrity deaths, often the last one to see many of them alive in the form they were, Dick had been with River Phoenix, Chris Farley and a few others before they bought the farm, Nadrea kept a steady flow of people running to rehab and the suburbs while trying to salvage pieces of their lives.
“Greetings ladies,” Tiffany was in a tight baby doll T-dress, jeans and heels, Steph in a short skirt showing off her long tan legs and a top that while covering her nipples, didn’t really cover her breasts plunging it’s v cut to mid stomach, Sarah in club clothes, tight pants high, high heels and a flowing loosely cut top. “Martini’s are like breasts. Two are ok, but three is too many,” one of the party goers said. To which Nadrea said, “The more tits the better. That’s like saying a little dick is better than big one!” The girls ordered up drinks, Nadrea hadn’t expected three, she expected a roommate or a boyfriend type, no problem, the more the merrier. The ladies who knew their way around the block to a certain extent, piqued the interest of a few of the men and Nadrea, the remainder of the crowd was borderline main stream and indifferent. Jazz played and they drank, at one point some one asked the name of the band, “Smooth Grooves or something like that.” Steph couldn’t tell if they were serious or not, turns out the band’s name was nothing like smooth grooves although that is what they played, no one knew their name it was all just background noise, nothing more and nothing less, merely window dressing.
In his car across town the husker was calling home, he had to put a stop to it, but needed to keep his relationship secret, or at least secret to those around him in DC.
“Hello”
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Robert. Why?” This was where he had to commit to a direction and stick with it.
“You, called twice in a relatively short time and didn’t leave a message.” Pausing to allow her to prepare a response and just when he expected her to speak he continued “I know Christy called you!” He said in a stern tone “because she doesn’t know where I am or what I’m doing.” Mother began to fumble and deny they had spoken. The husker just let her ramble. “Mom you started calling 30 minutes after I hung up with her, it is not a coincidence.” Mother still denyed that was why she was called. “Alright mom, you need to know? Fine I was on a date! A date that is now over, because you couldn’t keep out of it. Christy can’t know because she’ll get in the middle just like last time! So, keep it to yourself.”
“A date? Really?” she asked, no response was given, he was silent. “How long have you been seeing her?” Now was his chance, he could lie and cover the earlier time in question “It was our second time, Sunday was the first.” His mother was thrilled and ready to shove him down the aisle if the woman he was dating was willing to go along with it. “Mom I’d love to chat, but I told her I’d call her in a little while. I need to go do that.” He knew his mother couldn’t be trusted with a secret unless she believed she was the only one who knew, she believed it. But like so many mothers anxious to marry off their children and have more grandchildren she pushed for details, all he would give up was she was not from a big city, this was important to mother, she had a career, this was less important and might impede the whole hurry up and get married idea mother had, and several other benign details of life. 45 minutes later his phone was dying, mother was thrilled and Christy was all but sabotaged, “If Christy calls tell her you have no idea what I’m doing, but I had said something about taking up rowing.”
“Rowing why rowing?”
“Because she’d never be able to find me out on the river, and would eventually stop looking. People row very early, all through the mornings on the weekend and occasionally after work, it will be a good cover.” He finally ended the call and went inside for the night, he called Donna to set up for Friday.
Back at the bar, Nadrea has determined that she is not the only one of the group of new friends with a similar orientation, but the girls are young early twenty’s. They are drunk and what was that about three martini’s being too many. The conversation turned to men and sex, she was despite it being a calm night, very much in her element.
Around the same time, Vincent stepped out of the cab from National after numerous delays on both ends, Nadrea was admiring Steph’s low cut blouse, Tiffany was discussing her piercings and Sarah had her own plans for Joe that night.
Previous Chapter Tiff, Sarah, and Steph
copyright 2008 Michael Malflic
