It was after one when Bill clocked out. He was tired and he felt funky. He’d spent a long day in the kitchen and he’d performed a lot of tasks. He’d sautéed chicken and he’d handled fish, two things that were a big part of the funk he was feeling. He wanted nothing more than to get home and take a long shower.
And this is precisely what he intended to do as he stepped out of the employee entrance and onto the loading dock area. Out there he discovered a crisp Fall night in Cleveland. The air, fresh air which he hadn’t felt since the morning, was titillating. He breathed it in, breathed it out, saw his steamy exhalation in the night. He also saw Rosie’s car parked, like the other night, beside his. Smoke was coming out of her exhaust pipe, gray into the black night, and her two red tail lights shone.
“Hey baby,” Rosie said. “Going our way?”
Bill stopped by her car and leaned in her open window. Edelgarde was sitting next to Rosie over in the passenger seat. He could see they were both wearing miniskirts and were both sitting so that he could easily see their legs.
“I was planning to go home and shower,” he said.
“So were we,” Edelgarde said.
Bill smiled at them.
“We could all shower together,” Rosie said.
“That would be nice,” Bill said. “But it’s late and I have to be in in the morning. How about a rain check?”
“Well, we were hoping,” Edelgarde said. “Be fun, you know?
“I can imagine,” Bill said. “I’d like to, really. But really, it’s late.”
“Up to you,” Rosie said. “Eddie and me just have to shower without you.”
“Won’t be the same,” Edelgarde said.
“No way to convince you?” Rosie asked. She shifted in her seat. Bill looked. How could he not? She was attractive. Adorable. Enticing. And Edelgarde, she pouted her lips and looked at Bill with those puppy dog eyes.
“Goddammit,” he said.
“Goddamn what? Rosie said.
“You know what.”
“Yeah,” Rosie said. “We do know what, and we know what we want too.”
“Yup,” Bill said. “I think you do.”
“Well, be your loss, you know.”
So it was one of those existential decision times, one of those times when Bill knew what he should do and he knew what he wanted to do, this despite how tired he was and how funky he felt. It was one of those “F-it” moments. And that’s what he said to himself. He said “F-it” and he smiled at them both.
“You know,” he said, I love you and I’d really like to go with you. But it’s late and I’m tired. I smell like sautéed chicken and rolled filet of sole. So if it’s okay with you, we can surely do this another time. It’ll be something to look forward to.”
“Sure,” Rosie said. “We can definitely do it another time. That’s a promise. So you have a good night, hon.”
“You too,” Bill said. He tapped twice on Rose’s window, turned and went to his own car.
He did not feel righteous, just or virtuous. On one level he felt stupid. He wanted to go with them. At that moment he wanted to be single and free. But that wasn’t happening. So feeling stupid and feeling funky he drove home.
His wife, as per usual, was asleep. First thing he did was check in on her. Then he went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. On his way to the bathroom he peeked into the bedroom again. She hadn’t stirred and he hadn’t expected that she would. He stayed quiet but walked to where she slept. He gently lifted the cover to find she was naked, how he and she usually slept. He studied her for a moment, what he could see of her as she lay on her stomach.
“Hi hon,” she said.
“Hey baby.”
“Come to bed.”
“Soon as I grab a shower. I smell from kitchen.”
“See you soon,” his wife said.
