Chapter 6
After a hectic day in the ER on Wednesday, at the end of a battle won to save the life of a heart attack victim, comradery and maybe a little lust fueled the colleagues’ quest for beer and hot wings at a dive across the street from the hospital. A cute, young blonde nurse who’d flirted with Arvin unabashedly in the middle of the code, was moving in for the kill and actually had placed her hand on his crotch as they sat side by side when his phone went off.
“Ugh, just in case it’s the hospital,” he told her.
“Ugh is right. You’d better answer it then,” she agreed.
But it was Larry. “You asshole, Terry has been at your apartment since seven thirty,” he yelled.
“What time is it?” Arvin asked, looking around the bar for a clock.
“After eight,” Larry said. “I doubt if she’s waiting now, but you need to be careful with her. Brenda is really pissed off.”
If Arvin had concern about other humans, it would be Brenda and Larry. They’d hooked him up with Terry, a perfectly lovely young woman, and now he’d stood her up yet again. It wasn’t the first time, either, but unless Terry told Brenda, he wasn’t confessing it.
“I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up.
“Sorry,” he said to the nurse. “I have a crisis brewing.”
“See you tomorrow?” she asked, disappointed.
“Unless you call out sick, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He threw bills down on the bar and left, hoping he could get a cab. But by the time he got to his apartment, it was eight thirty and Terry was long gone. He was only an hour late and it made him angry that she’d called Larry and Brenda and involved them, so the terse, untrue text message resulted. He tried to call her, but her phone went right to voice mail.
Now he was home, and he didn’t want to be there alone. He dug through his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper upon which the young nurse, a girl named Patricia if the note could be trusted, had given him with her number the week before. She was too young for him, probably not much older than twenty-two, and they had nothing in common, but she had a nice body, lean and muscular and he was attracted to her.
Keying in the number, Arvin heard the sounds of the bar when she answered. “It’s Arvin Amir,” he said.
“How’s your crisis?” she asked, excited that he’d called her.
“Averted. Why don’t you come over to my place?” he asked. “I’ll pay for your cab.”
“I have to work in the morning and I don’t have anything with me,” she said, then blanched, why would she assume she’d stay the night?
“I have a washer and dryer,” he said. “Come over.”
The memory of her hand on his crotch propelled him to be a little more aggressive than he usually was; it wasn’t necessary in most instances because women threw themselves at him. His ego forced him to be honest about such matters. But since his date for the night wasn’t taking his calls, he’d have to improvise.
“What’s your address?” she asked, and he gave her his south Philly street number.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she said, and hung up.
He popped open a beer and downed it for dinner, sorry he hadn’t asked her to bring him some food. Looking at his watch, it was after nine. His timeline was to spend fifteen minutes wooing her, fuck her, and then hopefully they’d be done by ten so he could order a pizza. Bedtime at midnight at the latest.
As it turned out, she expected a little more from him than he was ever willing to give and it caused a bit of a problem, taking more time so that pizza was now out of the question.
“What did you think I was going to do?” she cried, her voice rising and falling in an annoying way.
“Keep it down, will you? My neighbors will call the cops,” he said, making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Did you just think you were going to screw me? That was it?”
“No. I thought we’d make love, have a meal and then sleep together. But it sounds like you expected more from it,” he said. “Maybe the question is, what did you think I was going to do?”
“You used me,” she cried. “Then when it was my turn, you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
“If you’ll remember, you grabbed my dick in the bar,” he said. “If anyone was used, I was. You let me know what you wanted and I thought I gave it to you.”
“So I can suck your dick, but you won’t go down on me, is that the story?”
“I don’t do that,” he said, flaring his nostrils. “It’s not something I have ever done, or that I see doing in my future. I don’t like it.”
There, he’d finally said it. No woman had ever had the nerve to challenge him, so he’d never had to voice his opposition to oral sex. The thought of it was disgusting.
“Well, that’s the most immature thing I have ever heard a man say,” she said. “You’re like a selfish little boy. I wish I would have known before I did it to you.”
“Look - Patricia-.” he’d forgotten her name for a moment. “We’ve already done it. It’s late. You’ll never get a cab at this time in this neighborhood. Put your clothes in the washer and let’s try to get some sleep, okay? In the morning it won’t look so bleak.”
“Right,” she said, sniffing.
“Trust me,” he said. “On a scale of one to ten, this is a three.”
“What will happen to us?” she asked, coming in from the laundry room.
“We’re friends, just like we were two hours ago. We work well together, we have fun, you grabbed my crotch in a public place and I accepted the invitation. Why does it have to mean something more than that?”
“I just thought…” she started.
“You thought that we’d fall in love after one screw. Well, that’s not the way it works. There has to be a few more before that will happen, I believe.”
That made her laugh, and she reached for a tissue to blow her nose. “I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch.”
“Yeah, talk about a buzz kill,” he said. He lifted the sheet and nodded toward the bed. “Get in. Tomorrow is another day in the ER.”
The next morning, with Terry on his mind, guilty and regretful about the way he’d treated her, it took every bit of his self-control not to be rude when he woke up next to Patricia. She was ready to chat, but he just tuned her out and smiled.
Walking into the hospital with her was uncomfortable; they had wet hair and got out of the same cab, obviously together. When they got to the ER and she had to go into report, she stood on her toes to kiss him but he reared back and frowned. “Not at work.” It didn’t faze her; Patricia seemed without pride, and it scared Arvin. She could be dangerous.
The morning was slow for a Thursday, always a bad sign that the rabble-rousers were gearing up to break a bone or get in a wreck over the weekend. Arvin got a cup of coffee and hid in the dictation room. Looking at his watch, it was early, Terry would probably just be getting up. He didn’t love Terry. But she was smart and witty, and she gave him space and didn’t expect anything from him. Why was that? He usually gave her just that - nothing.
Picking up the phone, he dialed her cell, fully expecting her not to answer. But she surprised him.
“You have a lot of nerve,” she said in a calm voice.
“I know. Believe it or not, I’m racked by guilt. I’m sorry I treated you so shabbily. You really didn’t deserve it.”
“I don’t,” she said. “But I’m over it, so don’t overdo it though, okay? I don’t need your mental health on my conscience.”
“Ha! You’re a good kid, Terry Kovac. Give me another chance.”
“Um, not right away,” she replied. “I’d better rebuild my self-respect. I’m actually thinking about seeing someone else.”
“You are?” he asked, crestfallen.
“I am. We’ll see how it goes. He asked me to dinner this weekend and I haven’t given him an answer yet.”
“Will you sleep with him?” Arvin asked.
“I just told you I didn’t answer the guy about dinner,” she said, laughing.
“Well are you attracted to him?”
“Yes, actually. Very much. I wouldn’t consider having a meal with the man if I didn’t think he was nice.”
“How do you know him?”
“Arvin, you might be overstepping your boundaries,” Terry said.
“I’m just curious. I hope it’s not someone from your work.”
“We’re not allowed. It’s an offense that could lead to dismissal if you date anyone from the firm. No, this is a friend of a friend. He’s actually a librarian at the Penn law library, if you can believe it.”
“That’s a first,” Arvin said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a male librarian.”
“You practically have to be working on a doctorate to work there,” she said. “I’m excited just to know him.”
“Well, have fun Terry. And again, I’m really sorry about last night.”
“Have a good day, Arvin. Goodbye.”
She hung up without waiting for him to say goodbye. He looked at his phone for a moment and ended the call. The door to the dictation room opened and Larry walked in.
“You’re walking on thin ice with the babes, Arvin,” he said, his accent noticeable when he was annoyed.
“Oh jeez, you’re supposed to be my friend,” Arvin said, grimacing.
“I am your friend, and a friend is honest. You’re upsetting my girlfriend and anything that makes Brenda unhappy pisses me off. You’re an adult man, and you’re acting like a teenager. Pull it together, man!”
“Okay,” Arvin said. “I’ll try.”
“Don’t try, just do it,” Larry said, walking away.
“Should I call Brenda and apologize?”
“Go for it,” Larry said.
Arvin found her number in his contacts and pressed call. She answered right away.
“I’m so angry with you! How could you do that to Terry? She’s such a great woman, Arvin, compared to those losers you usually date.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, letting her rant. Everything she said was true, too, and it made him more convicted about changing. “I won’t let you down, Brenda. I promise. I called Terry and apologized, just so you know. You and Larry are the last people on earth I want to upset.”
“Stop it then! I love you, Arvin, and it’s upsetting for Larry, too, to see you so self-destructive.”
They said goodbye with more declarations and promises.
Pulling himself together to get to work, Arvin knew he needed to make some changes. He would make them, but it would take a few more years to see the results.
***
Brenda just made it to work at nine.
“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you Lipinski?”
It was law firm partner Paul chastising her, all the while looking at her ass. “Sorry, sir,” she said.
“It’s just nine,” receptionist Corinne said in Brenda’s defense, pointing to her watch, her eyebrows lowered. “The last time I looked, starting time was nine.”
“We can always get a new receptionist, too,” Paul said, but Corinne just laughed in his face.
“Ha! Try it! I’ve got a file of sexual harassment claims I’ll be happy to bring out anytime, from the UPS lady to the last secretary you fired,” she said, waving a manila folder in his face, prompting him to run for his office.
“Thank you,” Brenda said, frowning.
“You’ve been here for almost six months,” Corinne said. “I’ve watched him looking at you like you’re something to eat. Don’t let him get away with it.”
“The guy’s my boss,” Brenda replied.
“I don’t care,” Corinne said. “Don’t allow any man to treat you like a piece of meat.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Brenda walked to her office, thinking of her college days and how allowing men to use her was just part of her daily life.
“Grow up, homie,” she muttered, hanging her coat up.
“Are you talking to yourself?” It was Terry, sticking her head in the door.
“Yes,” Brenda replied decisively. “I just had a minor skirmish with Paul. Actually I didn’t; Corinne did on my behalf. Now, first thing in the morning I’m wondering why I’m such a doormat where men are concerned.”
“If you discover the answer, let me know. It might apply to me, too.”
Brenda looked at Terry carefully. “Did that putz apologize?”
“He did, and I cut him a break. But I’m not going out with him again anytime soon. He needs some downtime, at least from me. Plus, I have a date.”
“You do? With who?” Brenda asked.
“Remember that friend from college I told you about with the law librarian friend?”
“Wait, I know the librarian. Remember, I went to Penn Law. It’s not Russ Adams, is it?”
“Right! Wait. Why do you say it like that?” Terry asked.
“He’s handsome and all, but -” Brenda started, but Terry interrupted her.
“Anyway, he asked me to dinner and I just accepted. He’s the antithesis of Arvin,” Terry said, her nose in the air.
“Yikes, he sure is. Russ is a little brainy, you realize that, correct?” Brenda asked, worried. Russ Adams was rocket-scientist smart but worked back in the stacks because he was a lunatic.
“Well, I assumed, but now you have me worried,” Terry said, hesitating. “It’s not too late to cancel. Should I?”
“No, but maybe dinner is too much for a first date, at least for him. He has a reputation for being a bit odd. You might check it out first.”
“Oh great! I should never date. It never works out. I have the worst luck with men,” she whined. Then, she looked at Brenda from the corner of her eye. “How’s he odd?”
“I don’t know the man, okay? I’ve just heard that it’s difficult to hold a conversation with him.”
“I think I’ll leave well enough alone. He’s taking me to The Windjammer and I’ve always wanted to go there but am too cheap,” Terry said, then grimaced. “I hope he doesn’t want me to split the bill.”
“Ha! That’s a concern we all have nowadays. My mother said she’d never go out with someone who made her pay her way. It was a different world back then.”
“I’d better get to work,” Terry said. “Anyway, wish me luck. Our date is tomorrow night. He said, and I quote, ‘I love Fridays because they are the start of the weekend. And now this Friday will really be special.’”
“Aw, no way!”
“Yes, I know. Just pray he doesn’t stand me up,” she said, laughing.
“We’ll kill him,” Brenda said.
Friday night rolled around and Russ Adams was on the phone promptly at five, letting Terry know he was on his way to pick her up. He lived in South Philly, but when they were done with their date, the driver would take Terry back home to Mount Airy. Russ had everything planned out to a tee.
While Terry and Russ had a delicious seafood dinner at The Windjammer, Brenda and Larry ate Chinese takeout in front of the television.
“I’m getting fat from all this takeout food,” Larry said. “One of us is going to have to start cooking, I’m afraid.”
“I do cook once in a while,” Brenda said, indignant. “I mean I try.”
“I know you do, sweetheart. But we have to eat every night. How can I help you? I try to buy easy to prepare food. You just have to stick the meat in the pan, open the salad bag and throw a potato in the microwave.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m sick of doing that. I should get some recipes from my mom.”
“Great idea! She’s an excellent cook.”
Fortunately, he didn’t add any more to the conversation because Brenda was ready to throw her plate of lo mein at him. Cooking for Larry had lost all its allure when she realized she’d be stuck in the kitchen alone, like a chef, while he was out in the living room in front of the TV.
“Let’s get a television in the kitchen so you can keep me company while I cook,” she said.
“I don’t get home until seven thirty at night. If you wait to cook until I can be with you, we won’t be eating until after eight.”
She didn’t respond, feeling like a broken record. This was not a good sign. They weren’t even married yet and already arguing about something that didn’t seem to have a resolution. Larry was such a great guy and he loved her, but the dreariness of the day in and day out drudgery of cooking and cleaning and doing his laundry was getting to her. They rarely went out with their friends anymore, and when she asked if they could invite them over, he always had an excuse.
“I guess I didn’t realize what a homebody you are,” she said.
“What’s this homebody?” he asked.
“You get home and never want to leave.”
“Ah, I get it. You’re getting bored,” he said, smiling at her. “The old man is comfortable at home and the young wife is ready to go out dancing.”
“Well, not exactly,” she said, panic-stricken when it hit that maybe he was right: he was almost fifteen years older than she was.
“I wish we could see our friends like we did before we bought the house,” she said.
“Maybe we can have a holiday party,” he said. “Would you like to have everyone here for Christmas or New Year’s?”
“Don’t get carried away. I was thinking more of pizza and beer and a movie or a game of cards,” she said. “I don’t think I’m ready for a big dinner. Anyway, we should wait for the wedding to do that because then we’ll have all our china and linens and things.”
“Okay, whatever you want,” he said.
“I can tell you what I want right now,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him from the couch.
“What?” he asked, smirking.
With her pointer finger she beckoned him to follow her out of the living room and up the stairs. It was the only gesture she needed to give him and he was on her, running up the stairs after her. He flew for the bed and lay down on his side, ready to watch. There was nothing in his memory as tantalizing as Brenda doing a sultry hula that led to a striptease. She’d started doing it for him on his day off during the week after a night on call. After he slept in the morning and ran their errands, he’d wait at the front door for her to get home from work, and the first thing she liked doing was getting a shower and into yoga pants and a T-shirt.
But first, she did a slow removal of her staid law office garb which included the requisite suit, a tailored shirt, a full slip, a garter belt and stockings, underpants, and a matching frilly padded bra. A regular spectator of Victoria Secret commercials, often the first one to get the catalog from the mailbox and disappear into the bathroom with it, Larry liked Brenda in nice underwear and he made sure he knew what she wore.
“No one else is going to see this, right?” he’d ask.
“Only the men who watch me do a striptease at work every day,” she’d answer, and then quickly assure him that was American humor. “No one but you will see it.”
The evening striptease had become a staple of their sex life, and Brenda knew that on Larry’s days off, they would have the most amazing sex, leaving nothing in their repertoire out.
Dinner would be takeout from Eastside Grill, also a day-off staple. They’d linger at the table long after dinner, sharing the latest gossip about their jobs and friends.
But on this weekend night, Brenda decided to try utilizing some of the tricks she had up her sleeve to get Larry’s attention, and it worked. She added some kinky moves, adopting some of the things he liked doing to her. He was a little shocked when she first tried it on him and she discovered she liked doing it to him because it increased her power in their relationship. Larry wouldn’t be able to say no to her after that.
Breathless, flinging himself back on the pillows, he gasped for air, looking at her in shock. “Where did that come from?”
“You do it to me all the time,” she said smugly. “Did it feel good?”
“Do you need to ask?” he moaned, trying to catch his breath. “I’m a middle-aged man. You need to be careful when you spring something like that on me.”
“Ha! You’re insane,” she said, rolling over to get right in his face. “Tell me. Did it feel good?”
“Yes! When I do it to you, does it feel good?” he asked.
“Well, it might feel better if you timed it for when I’m going to come instead of when you’re going to come,” she said, smiling. “Like I just did for you.”
“I thought my head was going to blow off,” he said, finally catching his breath. “Wow, I can’t believe we’ve been sleeping together for almost six months and it’s still this good.”
“It had better be good for a lot longer than six months,” she said. “I plan on being with you until I die.”
Rolling back to her, he kissed her again. “Until we die.”
Chapter 7
June
Two weeks after school let out, Brenda’s brother, Pete graduated from Saint Joseph’s with honors, not valedictorian of his class, and the wedding between Brenda Marie Lipinski and Lawrence Henry Babula was about to finally take place.
With the usual prenuptial jitters, Brenda had moved home the day before the wedding. Larry’s mom and dad, aunts and uncles and various cousins had converged from Pittsburgh upon the house on Pine Street and she couldn’t take the commotion. Fortunately, she wasn’t a suspicious person, and except for Larry’s television, they had nothing of value to lose in case one of his relatives had sticky fingers.
“I’ll miss you,” he’d said. “But I completely understand. It’s a little overwhelming to have so many people in the house.”
Overwhelming was a mild term, but Brenda let it go. “I’ll see you at the church!”
“Yes,” he said moving in for a kiss. “At six sharp, tomorrow evening. I can’t wait. Don’t be late!”
“I hope I don’t have to stand in line to use the bathroom,” she said, teasing. “My mom promised me I’d get to use it first.”
Estelle had everything planned out; Brenda got the bathroom at noon. The neighbors all had offered the use of theirs for the bridesmaids and other guests, but they said it wasn’t necessary. They’d shower at home and come ready to dress. A hairstylist and makeup artist would be on hand to work on Brenda at four sharp. It would give her time to get to the church, get dressed with her grandmother and mother, and have photos taken with her attendants.
“It’s like a fairytale,” Terry had said. “Like your mother read a book about what the perfect wedding should be, then set out to get each detail in place.”
“That’s exactly what she did!” Brenda exclaimed. “I feel sorry for my younger sisters because after this there will be no money for weddings.”
“They’re paying for it?” Terry asked, dumbfounded.
“They insisted. Just between you and me, Larry and I told my sister Margaret that we’d pay for her wedding next summer. She’s marrying an Army guy, so I don’t think they’ll have the cash.”
“Wow, that Larry!” Terry said.
“I know,” Brenda replied. “One in a million.”
Three weeks earlier, Terry had the wedding shower for Brenda. “I’m so grateful,” Brenda said. “My grandmother’s house is even more cluttered than my mother’s, and no one else in the family or my bridesmaids have the money to have a shower.”
“I’m your maid of honor,” Terry stated proudly. “It’s my responsibility to have the shower. My mother has been making pierogi for a month. It’ll be wonderful, you’ll see.”
“I have no doubt,” Brenda said, kissing her cheek. “You’re my best friend, and we haven’t even known each other a year.”
Terry took the Friday before the shower off from work to prepare. Her apartment was looking its best, all furnished and decorated in her minimal style. On the front porch, Terry and her neighbor Earle clustered terra-cotta pots of white mums tied with white satin ribbons. Brenda didn’t want the honeycomb bridal bells or any cliché decorations, and in their place, Terry placed fresh white flowers all over; lilies, roses, stephanotis, gladiolas - any white flower the florist had that day.
In the living room, she set up three linen-tablecloth-clad card tables and chairs to add to the window seat and couch seating. Harry set up a long folding table against a bare wall in the living room and that would hold the buffet, Polish food Elizabeth Kovac and Brenda’s grandmother and mother had prepared. A huge sheet cake, the only gesture to corny wedding decorations, had a Barbie and Ken bride and groom in the center.
Brenda had one goal and that was to get the wedding over with so she and Larry could get on with their lives. Relaxed and jovial during the shower, she was a perfect complement to Terry’s nervous energy wanting everything to be nice for her friend. The tiny apartment was packed with bridesmaids, aunts, cousins, and of course Larry’s family from Pittsburgh. Six ladies shared the couch, twelve around the folding tables and chairs, four on the window seats, and more folding chairs from Saint Brigid’s. In spite of a cool day in April, Terry had to open the windows to keep the heavily perfumed air from suffocating them in the rising heat.
“Jesus, a bunch of old ladies with White Shoulders doth make a bridal shower putrid,” Brenda whispered.
“Is it your family or his? My apartment is going to have to be fumigated after this,” Terry admitted.
“Probably both,” Brenda said. “An old lady is an old lady. Don’t ever wear White Shoulders.”
Then it was time to open the gifts. The requisite gag gifts from the young cousins were funny and embarrassing. Then the virginal white nightgown from the mother-of-the-bride to the bride-to-be was the biggest embarrassment, worse than the pink vibrator.
“Why white?” Brenda hissed to Terry. “Everyone knows we’ve been living together.”
“It’s tradition,” her mother said, having heard her. “It doesn’t make any difference what’s transpired before the wedding night; the wedding night is still sacred.”
“God, I never thought of that,” a cousin said. “That’s really a lovely way to look at it. It changes the entire way of thinking. You can still have a sacred wedding night regardless. It’s your first night together as man and wife.”
“I would think for Brenda something in black and red satin with crotchless underpants would be more fitting,” another cousin said. At first, silence signaled the inappropriateness of the comment, until Brenda burst out laughing.
“We’ll save that for you, Fran,” someone called out, and the festivities continued, saved by laughter.
When the clock reached five, Terry felt a tiny bit of hysteria, wanting everyone to leave and to get her house back. Brenda took pity on her and started the exodus.
“Thank you again, everyone,” she called out. “It was a wonderful shower. I’ll see all of you in three weeks!”
They left en masse then, calling thanks, hugging Terry goodbye and thanking her for a great afternoon. When the last person left, Terry shut and locked the door, and then knocked at Earle’s.
“My dear, it sounded like a herd of cattle coming down the steps just now!”
“I’m so sorry, Earle,” she said. “My floors will never be the same. Do you want some Polish food? I have a ton of it left.”
“Oh, my yes,” he said. “It’s my favorite.”
“I’ll be right back. I wish I could hire a cleaning crew,” she mumbled, running back up the stairs for the first time in half an hour.
But when she opened the door, she was surprised that a group of the women had straightened up most of the mess, including placing all the food in the kitchen while she said goodbye to her guests. All she would have to do was fold up the extra furniture and get it down to the porch for her father, and sweep the floor. Relief. She’d be sure to find out from Brenda who had done the work.
Making up a plate of food for Earle was fun; it started a tradition of sharing food with him. She also put together a container for her next-door neighbor Mrs. Dell, a lovely middle-aged woman who lived with her husband and adult son.
Walking back from Mrs. Dell’s, Terry’s mother and father came down the driveway unexpectedly.
“We were in the mood for Polish food for dinner,” Harry said, smiling. “And we knew where to get it tonight.”
“And we’ll help you clean up,” Elizabeth said. “Is it bad?”
“Not too,” Terry said, holding the door open for them. “But I’m glad to see you. I was so relieved they left and now I’m kind of depressed.”
“Oh yes, I know that well. It’s a letdown after all the preparation. Only Brenda was your friend. You were truly entertaining strangers.”
“Showers are a stupid tradition,” Harry said. “I much prefer the way we did it.”
“Oh, don’t bore the girl with those details,” Elizabeth said slapping his arm. “Where’s your broom?”
Within half an hour, the apartment was almost back to normal except for the pervasive smell of White Shoulders.
***
And then the big day finally arrived. The atmosphere in the church was ethereal, transformed by the flickering light of floor-mounted candle-stands at the end of each pew, the smell of rose incense in the air, the organist playing a soft medley of Bach and Beethoven. The church was packed with the entire law office and emergency room staff except for a skeleton crew who stayed behind. Waiting up at the altar, which was strewn with thousands of white blossoms, Larry was absolutely resplendent in a black tux, his eyes sparkling in the candlelit church, unable to focus on anything but the double doors from which his bride would emerge.
Finally, after Estelle Lipinski in taupe silk satin was seated, a hush came over the church as the organist began to play Mendelssohn's “Wedding March.” First, the Lipinski sisters started the procession, five gorgeous girls of graduated heights, wearing suits of beige silk with rhinestone buttons.
“They can actually wear those suits again someday,” someone whispered.
Next, Terry came through the double doors, ravishing in a form-fitting tan silk sheath which unfortunately, in the candlelight, made everyone do a double take.
“Oh my God!” Brenda’s future mother-in-law whispered in Polish with disapproving pursed lips. “A naked dress!”
But as she walked down the aisle, the beautiful maid of honor with thick blonde hair piled on her head, a beautiful figure shone to its best advantage in the naked dress, everyone agreed that the bride would have to really be something to outdo Terry.
Brenda didn’t disappoint; she was regal. Everything about her was just perfect, from her designer dress to her hair and makeup. Estelle had done well.
Larry watched her walking down the aisle on Ray Lipinski’s arm and burst into tears, Arvin at his back, whispering words of strength to him. When she reached the altar, Larry didn’t wait for direction from the priest but went right to her and grasped her free hand.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, sobbing. “I love you so much.”
The priest raised his hand so the celebrants would be seated. “Who giveth this woman in holy matrimony?”
“I do,” Ray said, choking on his tears, as well.
Brenda let go of Larry’s hand for the last time and embraced her father, kissing his cheek.
“I love you, Daddy,” she said. “Thank you so much for this.”
Returning to his seat next to Estelle, he grabbed his wife’s hand and they cried together. Their beautiful daughter was going to become a wife, further separating her life from that of her family’s.
The mass was the full megillah, and after an hour, the bridal party had lost track of time with the kneeling and the vows and the candle lighting and communion. Arvin watched Terry carefully during the service; mouthing to her at the beginning you’re so beautiful. She smiled, but didn’t look at him again. They had not spoken to each other since the Wednesday night in November when he’d stood her up. He’d heard from Brenda that she was still seeing that librarian, but that it was a friendly, casual relationship that had no future because there was no sexual chemistry between them. According to Brenda, Terry claimed Russ never even made a pass at her. But they enjoyed each other’s company, she said, and went to plays and concerts and museum openings, and more importantly, he had respect for her and never stood her up.
Mercifully, the ceremony was finally over and the reception began. Once again, Estelle and Ray had outdone themselves, sparing no expense, having the reception at a location away from the hubbub of the city at the north end of Wissahickon Park, not far from Terry’s apartment to her joy. It was lit up like a fairyland with twinkling lights covering every tree and a white canopy set up with linen tablecloth covered tables.
They also made sure that every standard wedding reception activity was included in the proceedings, including the father-bride dance, the mother-groom dance, the bridesmaids-ushers dance, the bride-groom dance, and then unfortunately, the maid of honor-best man dance.
“I should kill you,” Terry whispered to Brenda, sitting next to her.
“I told my mother to lay off, but you see what they’ve done. I swear to God, I had nothing to do with any of this.”
But they laughed in spite of it, and Terry got up to dance with Arvin to Cole Porter’s “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”
“Wow, you look so beautiful,” he said, taking her in his arms. “I was worried you were going to upstage the bride.”
“Not a chance of that,” she said, looking over at the bride’s table. “Brenda’s gorgeous.”
“She really is,” Arvin replied sincerely. “They’re both gorgeous. Her legs don’t stop. Can you imagine those two fucking?”
“Arvin, for Christ’s sake, this is their wedding,” Terry said, frowning, but she did take a second look at the couple as Larry got up from the table and reached for Brenda. “They are amazing.”
“Larry is head over heels about her,” Arvin said. “I mean, real till-death-do-us-part love. I’ll never have that.”
“Arvin, that’s so sad,” Terry said, looking in his eyes for the first time that night. “Why do you think that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel like that toward any woman. Larry won’t even make small talk to the nurses. He claims it bores him to death, but I think it’s out of loyalty to Brenda.”
“You haven’t fallen in love yet,” Terry said. “That’s why you feel this way. When the right woman comes along…”
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’m probably never getting married,” she said sadly.
“Why do you say that, Terry? You’re smart and pretty and have a great personality,” Arvin said sincerely.
“I’ve never had a serious boyfriend. You know that. You wouldn’t even give me a chance. At one time I thought that if the circumstances were different, if you’d grow up or get some morals, we might have a chance. But I realized you never loved me, and now I can barely tolerate you.”
They laughed at that.
“But we had fun,” he said, looking intently into her eyes. “You have to admit that. What we did in bed together was good. I wish we could do it again sometime. But that’s not all. The time we spent on the street, people watching and listening to music, that’s about as good as it gets.”
“Arvin, my self-respect can’t take it right now. Maybe I’m not well-adjusted enough. When we had sex, you had part of my heart, too. You were so dismissive. That hurt me.”
“If I try to be more considerate, would you consider seeing me again? Not dating necessarily, but as friends?”
“Do you mean a hookup, accepting that there is no romantic future? I don’t know if I’m open enough for that, Arvin.”
“What can I do?” he asked, sincerely trying to get her to agree they were free enough to try.
“What do you mean? Like not telling me how beautiful I am when your penis is inside me? Or how no one makes you feel the way I do when we’re doing it? That might help.”
Biting his lip to keep from laughing, Arvin knew exactly what she meant. “I’m not sure I can do that,” he said. “It’s the way I feel at the moment.”
“Ah,” she said. “I see. The stiff dick has no conscience syndrome.”
“That sounds so cruel,” he said. “At the time, that’s what I really feel.”
“And then afterward when you’re satisfied, and I’m not, you can go on your merry way,” she said scathingly. “While I’m left feeling empty and used.”
Embarrassed, he didn’t answer her. After Patricia’s meltdown the previous fall about him not reciprocating, he wasn’t eager to get into a similar discussion on the dance floor with Terry. The way he avoided the issue was to no longer let anyone give him oral sex. Then him not doing it in return wasn’t a problem. It was a nonissue now. But Terry was really good in that regard; she knew exactly what to do to satisfy him. Could he give that up with her?
“Look, I’m sorry about all that,” he said. “I know I have some hangups. If you change your mind and want to get together, let me know. I’m always available for you.”
“Thanks Arvin. If I get lonely enough, I’ll take you up on it,” she said. “Between you, my vibrator, and Russ, my librarian friend, I’ll have all my needs met.”
Bursting out laughing, they held each other closely while they danced with Arvin whispering the words to the song in her ear, accepting that friendships came in all forms. Terry was annoyed that she consented to it, but her casual relationship with Arvin would play an important role in her life for the next few years.