Sometimes in the next several weeks I will be publishing a book about—well, it’s about something, now isn’t it? This particular publication is still in draft form, but I thought you might like to read a small bit of what I’ve written, so I’m sharing a scene with you from a little over halfway through the story. Hope you like it.
“Okay, Mary, you have to tell me what’s going on, This is getting way too weird for me.”
Lisa and Mary were sitting in a corner booth at Dabny’s, their favorite hangout, at least Lisa’s favorite hangout. Just as Mary was opening her mouth to respond to Lisa’s request, the waiter walked up. “Good evening, ladies. What’ll it be?”
In the nick of time Lisa’s brain stopped her mouth from blurting out, “A hunk of you for starters.”
Mary just thought, “Not a bad looking guy. Not like Jackson, though.”
“Two Lone Star Lights, please.” Mary took the liberty of ordering for Lisa. One look at that leering lady told her that her friend had undressed their waiter, and was already, in her fantasy, well into the second course of a three course meal.
The waiter turned and strode to the bar. Lisa stared. And, she stared some more.
“Hello. Earth to Lisa.”
Lisa blinked twice, rapidly. She turned her head slightly to the right, towards the sound of Mary’s voice. Her eyes lagged two seconds behind.
“Damn, Lisa. Do you have to be so brazen with your stares? That look in your eyes….Damn, Lisa. You did everything but drool.”
“Mary, just imagine what you could do with that. I’d jump his bones in a heartbeat. I’d….”
“Lisa. Lisa. We’re here to talk about my problem, not fantasize about the waiter.”
“Oh. Okay. What’s your problem anyway?” At this point Lisa had only one thing on her mind, and it didn’t have anything to do with Mary.
“How about the fact that someone tried to kill me, or that our office got robbed? Or, the phone calls? First I get one, then Hector, and now you.”
“Oh, yeah. That problem. And, it’s not robbed.”
“What’s not robbed?”
“The office. Our office got burglarized, not robbed. I learned that my first day covering the courthouse. You see, a robbery must be….”
“Not now, Lisa. I’ve got to do something, but I don’t know what.” Mary’s pleading look across the table at her friend, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes, slapped Lisa’s thoughts back to the present.
The waiter arrived with two long neck Lone Star Lights and two cold glasses. In front of each of the ladies he deposited a beer and a glass. “Can I get you some appetizers, or,” his gaze wandered over to the blonde sitting on his left, “anything else?”
The man had received Lisa’s signal loud and clear the last time he had stood beside this particular table. It was a slow night, and he would enjoy a little flirting. He didn’t mind serving beers to this fine blonde and her redheaded friend, but if it could lead to something more, he was all in. The waiter was ready and willing. Lisa was neither. She had moved on to other things.
Her eyes never leaving the face of her friend, Lisa replied, “Not now. Thanks.”
The confused waiter turned and ambled away.
Mary began telling Lisa Jackson’s story. It took Lisa less than two minutes to realize that there was more to this story than just the words a man spoke. Yes, sir. Mary Karpinski was in love, and Lisa Roberts knew it. She knew it with all her soul. Her friend had found herself a man. “I wonder if they’ve done it, yet.” Lisa was thinking lurid thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I’ll bet….”
“Wait a minute. What did you just say?” Mary was in the midst of telling Lisa about Jackson’s time in Southeast Asia when something she said snapped Lisa back into reality.
“I said that what he tells me makes me think he was a Shadow Warrior, or something like that, back around the time of the Vietnam War.”
“My uncle was a Shadow Warrior. My mother talks about him all the time. I think I met him once.”
“What’s that got to do with what I’m trying to tell you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I just thought I could find out from my mother how to get hold of him, I’m pretty sure he’s still alive, and maybe call him up and see what he knows. It might be nothing, but it’s worth a try, don’t you think?”
Sometimes Lisa surprised Mary with her ideas. “It’s a great idea. I’m going to start taking notes.” Mary pulled the ever present pad and pen from her purse.
Lisa took the tools of the trade from her friend. “Here. I’ll do that. You talk, I’ll write.”
The night went on like that: Mary sharing her story, Lisa taking notes. The two reporter friends sat and talked through two more beers and a basket of chips and salsa.
Mary couldn’t tell Lisa everything. Even if she could, she wouldn’t. How could she tell anyone about the feelings she had for a man who was more than twice her age? He was older than her father, for Christ’s sake. But, there was so much to him, more than just his physical self. Jackson was like no man she’d ever met. No. She would never tell anyone.
“When are you going to jump his bones?”
“What? You can’t be serious.”
“Mary, it’s written all over you. You’d like nothing more than to get him in the sack. I can tell. I’ll bet he’s a hunk. Is he?”
Mary blushed so deeply that she thought she might glow in the dark, like a big red light, for all the world to see. “Lisa, he’s older than my father.”
“That makes him experienced. I wouldn’t let this opportunity get away if I were you.”
Mary slides over to the edge of the bench seat, stands, and immediately grabs the table for support. “Oops. I think it’s time to leave.”
Lisa steps up, places her hands on Mary’s shoulders, and spins her around, aiming her towards the exit. She gives Mary a gentle shove, drapes her arms around the shorter woman’s shoulders, and they begin their slow, weaving march to the door.
“So, tell me. What are you going to do about Jackson?”