“
What’s the
matter?”
“
It’s Clifford. He’s started
up again.”
“
He just can’t let you go,
can he?”
“
I’m sorry. I’ll be right
back.” She got up and walked to her office.
Edsel sat at the table, wondering if Angie
would ever get back together with her ex, Clifford Silverstern. His
family had money—tons of the stuff. They owned a bank, a jewelry
store, a funeral home, a hotel, and a fancy Italian restaurant.
Edsel couldn’t believe it when Angie started
dating him years ago. He knew she wouldn’t marry him for money. She
must have truly been in love with the putz. The day of the wedding
was the lowest point in Edsel’s life. For a moment, he had toyed
with the idea of jumping off the Rainbow Bridge.
After a year or so, Angie began to see
Clifford for who he really was. But she was too stubborn to give up
on the marriage. She toughed it out for another fifteen years. Near
the end, even her father, Herman, was begging her to get out. He
had come to hate Clifford for making his daughter miserable.
Unfortunately, Herman Maberly hated Edsel
just as much as he hated Clifford. If the old man were to walk in
and see her eating dinner with Edsel, he’d probably go home and get
his shotgun.
Angie walked back to the table shaking her
head. “I’m sorry.”
“
You okay?”
“
Yeah. Clifford just doesn’t
get it. There are plenty of women around town who’d jump at the
chance to be with him. But the more I tell him I don’t want him,
the more determined he is to get me back.”
Shelly brought their food.
“
Wow, that was fast,” said
Edsel. “Smells good.”
They listened to the band and watched
couples Two-Step around the floor while they ate. Edsel decided to
save the important talk until after dinner.
“
How about some cherry pie
for dessert? We baked them this afternoon,” she said.
He smiled. “You know I can’t resist your
cherry pie, Angie.”
“
Okay. I’ll go get us
some.”
In less than five minutes, she hurried back
with the two plates. “I hope I didn’t give you too much ice cream,”
said Angie.
“
Not at all.” Edsel grinned
with delight. There was no dessert on earth better than Angie’s
cherry pie, topped with Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice
cream.
“
Oops, I forgot. I’m
supposed to be helping you eat healthier. Let me just take that
back in the kitchen and I’ll—”
“—
don’t you dare,” he said,
guarding his plate with both hands.
She smiled. “Just kidding. It’s okay to
splurge every once in a while.”
Edsel’s mouth was already full of pie and
ice cream. He mumbled in agreement.
“
It’s nice when we sit down
together for a meal like this. We should do it more
often.”
“
Well, you’re always so busy
running this place,” he said. “You ought to hire somebody to help
you manage it.”
“
Me?
What about
you?
If you’d hire
another mechanic, you wouldn’t have to work seven days a
week.”
“
Folks don’t trust anybody
else to work on their cars. That’s why they bring them to me. They
don’t want some green kid tricking around under the
hood.”
“
I know.”
They finished their desserts.
“
Angie?”
“
Yes?”
“
I’ve been meaning to talk
to you about something.”
“
What is it?”
“
Well, you know that we’ve
been friends for a long time.”
“
Forever.”
“
Yeah. And you know I like
spending time with you.”
“
Sure. Me too.”
“
Well…”
There was only one couple on the dance
floor, doing the Texas Two-Step. It’s a dance that involves quick,
precise movements with your partner, and spinning counterclockwise
around the floor. Sometimes the woman hangs onto the man with her
right hand by putting a couple of fingers through one of his belt
loops. Usually, he’s wearing blue jeans, so the belt loops are
strong.
But perhaps this particular belt loop had
already seen too much action. It ripped loose, causing the woman to
lose her balance. Her partner tripped. Then they tripped on each
other, unable to catch themselves. Finally, they fell on top of a
table. The top broke off its base, and tipped downward, sending
plates of food airborne. People at the nearby tables gasped.
Angie jumped up, and ran over to help. “Is
everybody okay?”
The man helped his dance partner get up. “Be
careful, Honey, there’s gravy all over the floor.”
The two women that had been sitting at the
table were now standing, looking at the dinner they had just begun
to eat, strewn across the dance floor.
“
I’m so sorry. We’ll cook
you up a fresh dinner right away. I’m buying tonight. And I’ll even
throw in a dessert.”
“
Thanks, Angie. But you
don’t have to do that. We’ll pay for our own dinner.”
“
No, no. I
insist.”
By the time she had things under control,
and went back to her table, Edsel was gone.
“
Shelly, I’m gonna walk over
to Edsel’s. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
The shop door was locked. Edsel never locked
up the shop while he was inside. So, she walked around back to his
house. She knocked a few times, but he didn’t answer. Maybe he went
for a walk, she thought.
She headed back to the restaurant, curious
about what Edsel wanted to tell her. They would have time to talk
tomorrow, on the way to Ralph’s birthday party.
**********
“
Hey, Blondie Boobs, come
give me a lick.” The eighteen year-old winked at Sondra, and
laughed with his buddies. He was the tallest in the
group.
Sondra was leading her band toward the stage
to get ready for their performance. She told them to go on without
her. She would join them in a few minutes.
She strutted up to the boy, and gave him a
sexy smile. “So, you want a piece of me?”
“
Well, sure,” he said,
struggling to sustain his cockiness. “You’re hot.”
His buddies were clearly impressed with
their fearless leader.
“
Come with me,” she said, as
she took his hand. Then she turned back, and leaned in close to his
friends, to speak confidentially. They gathered around her. “Don’t
worry boys—I’ll try not to make him
too
sore.” She led him
away.
“
Go, Ryan,” said one of his
buddies.
Sondra peeked into the girl’s bathroom, and
saw that it was unoccupied. She yanked him inside, and took him to
a stall, pushed him in forcefully, and got in with him. Then she
closed and locked the door. She could see the excitement in his
eyes. And the fear.
“
Let’s see what you’ve got
to offer.” She ripped his shirt open, and a couple of buttons
popped off. “Oh, very nice.” She massaged his chest with both
hands. “How does that feel?”
“
Good.
Real
good.”
She worked her right hand down to his
crotch.
Ryan moaned. He was no
longer worried about whether somebody might catch them. He wasn’t
worried about
anything
.
She rubbed him gently between the legs, and
then held him in the palm of her hand—like a couple of big grapes.
“How’s this?”
He tried to speak, but nothing decipherable
came out.
“
And how about this?” She
clamped down hard.
He tried to push her away, but she squeezed
even tighter. “Please, stop!”
“
Have you learned your
lesson?” If he gave the wrong answer, she would use both hands to
crush him with all her might, until his hanging fruit burst wide
open.
Tears ran down both cheeks. “Yes,
Ma’am.”
“
Tell me what you’ve
learned.”
“
Could you let go
first?”
She loosed her grip—slightly. “Tell me what
you’ve learned.”
“
Not to mess with
you.”
“
Good. And what
else?”
“
Not to mess with any
woman?”
“
Right. No
matter…”
Ryan had no idea what she wanted him to
say.
She tried again. “No matter…”
“
No matter how hot she
is?”
“
Good. And no matter
how…”
“
Ugly?”
She clamped down hard, and
he thought he was about to pass out. He
prayed
he would pass
out.
“
What?” he said. “What do
you want me to say?”
“
Never mind.” She released
her grip, and pushed him down on the toilet seat.
As soon as she was gone, he stood up, and
pulled down his pants to check the damage. To his amazement,
everything was still intact, and he was not bleeding.
Sondra had left the stall door ajar. And
Ryan was still in the process of examining himself when a girl
pushed the door open, and started to walk into the stall. But when
she saw him there, bent over, touching himself, she screamed and
ran out of the bathroom.
That’s okay, he thought. Wait until he told
the guys about what he had done with the hot lead singer in the
girl’s bathroom. He’d be a legend—as long as his story didn’t get
back to Sondra. Oh, he’d still be a legend. He’d just be dead…or
castrated.
If given a choice, he’d opt for dead.
Chapter
13
When Angie had walked over to Edsel’s house
after the dance accident and discovered he was not at home, she had
assumed he’d gone for a walk. It was not unusual to see him walking
the streets after dark. She had encouraged him to get a dog so that
people would be less likely to think he was up to no good. But most
of the neighbors knew him, and were not the least concerned.
However, this was not a night for walking.
Edsel had some serious thinking to do, and that called for a long
drive. He’d checked the headlights and taillights before backing
out of his attached two-car garage. It had been quite a while since
he’d taken his convertible out at night. It was an orange and white
1958 Edsel Citation two-door.
He drove out of Orange via
Highway 87, passing through Bridge City on his way to Port Arthur.
It reminded of the many nights he’d made this trip two decades
earlier. Back then, he would take 87 all the way down to Bolivar
Peninsula, across the ferry to Galveston. On some parts of ‘Beach
Road’ you could actually steer your car right onto the beach, and
drive straight into the water—if you were crazy enough. Edsel would
never have done that. He had been extremely depressed during that
time, as Angie was about to marry Clifford Silverstern. But not
enough to drown himself
or
his beautiful car.
Back in the 1980’s, once Edsel had made it
to Galveston he would take I-45 to Interstate 10, and then head
back to Orange. The entire trip took about six hours. He wished he
could follow that same route tonight. But Beach Road was now
gone—or, at least a big portion of it. That road had been there
since the Civil War. It had been damaged and repaired many times.
But when Hurricane Jerry came through in 1989, it was the last
straw. Beach Road has been closed ever since.
So, there would be no long drive along the
beach listening to the waves. No relaxing ride on the Bolivar
Ferry. The ferry is still there, but he would have had to take the
detour to get to there. It just wasn’t the same.
Instead, he planned to simply drive the
triangle. The cities of Port Arthur, Beaumont, and Orange outline
the area known as The Golden Triangle. He wasn’t sure how many
revolutions it would take.
Edsel knew Greg was right. He needed to go
ahead and tell Angie how he really felt about her. When Angie’s
divorce had become final, he knew it was too soon to say anything.
He needed to give her some time. Then, after about six months, when
Angie seemed completely over the marriage and the divorce, Edsel
considered bringing it up—until Clifford started calling and coming
by nearly every day, trying to get her back. So, Edsel had
continued to wait.
He tried not to dwell on the fact that they
could have had all those years together. Going to bed with her
every night. Not just for the sex. When you love someone as deeply
as he loved Angie, the physical part could be fantastic.
Mind-blowing. But as much as he wanted to make love to her, he also
wanted to just sleep in the same bed with her. Wake up every
morning with her.
Edsel loved working on cars, but he would
have been lost without his daily dose of Angie. Even during the
years she was married to Clifford, Edsel still got to see her a few
minutes every day.
But that wasn’t enough
anymore. It didn’t
have
to be enough—if he would
just tell her he loved her. And that he wanted to marry her. He
felt a chill run up his spine. He had not said it in years—even to
himself. But it was true. Edsel Torkman wanted to
marry
Angie
Silverstern with all his heart.
Tomorrow would be the day. He would tell her
before they went to Ralph’s birthday party.
**********
“
Look at them,” said
Billy-Eye. “They’re all pushing and shoving, trying to get right up
close to the stage.”