Chapter Seventeen
Richard and Susan rode in silence to the restaurant. He nervously and silently rehearsed the words he wanted to say to communicate how it upset him to find her letter to Ralph. The question he hadn’t been able to ask was whether their relationship was over. Experience had taught him that love triangles were complicated. Would she be able to answer him honestly, without consulting Ralph? Richard wanted her answer, not theirs.
Susan worried that her husband would say something that would devastate her. She never imag-ined he would do anything to hurt her, but the guilt she felt over her passion for Ralph and Courtney and any other failed relationship that she clung to for the nostalgia of youthful passion created a pressurized bubble whenever they were together.
After parking the truck Richard peered through the windshield and watched as kids played on the beach. Their freshly sunburned faces attested to the fact that they were tourists. Without a word to one another, they opened their doors and stepped out of the truck. He walked around the back. When he emerged on the other side he found that Susan had not waited for him. He followed, keeping distance between them.
Buster’s was the name of the restaurant. The close proximity of Erstwhile to the gulf guaranteed the seafood would be fresh. This was their spot to come together. It was here that they made the decision to move from Orlando. Never had they been there with anyone else. They even had a favorite waiter, Tom.
Richard hoped to sit on the back deck and enjoy the sunset. He knew however that would be almost impossible. Tourists filled the restaurant and those tables would be in great demand.
The couple approached the hostess stand and took their place in line. Several people of varying shades of sun exposure stood ahead of them. Their colors ranged from lightly tanned to boiled-lobster-red. Richard and Susan waited patiently without a word as the hostess dutifully wrote down the name and number in each party.
Richard desperately tried to think of a way that he could gently segue into the conversation about Ralph. He had no desire to be confrontational. That would not be an easy task.
At the same time Susan juggled her emotional quandary, trying not to drop any clues to the true identity of her many faces. She struggled to put forth the woman that her husband fell in love with and avoid making reference to any cute innuendo shared with the others about whom she fantasized.
When it came time for the couple to give the hostess their name, she recognized them and reached into a large wooden pocket on the side of the hostess stand and removed two menus. “Follow me,” she said, as she walked into the dining room. The restaurant was too busy for pleasantries.
Richard looked at his wife and asked, “Did you make reservations?”
She nodded.
“Great!”
The couple followed the hostess through the dining room and onto the deck, just as they had hoped. Regardless of the myriad of emotions that Richard felt about Susan, he strolled across the dining room floor on a cushion of air, proud that he was there with the most beautiful woman he had ever known.
“Did you ask for a table on the deck?”
Once again, Susan only nodded.
“Thanks,” Richard said. “You know how much I enjoy the sunsets.”
When she did not respond he began to worry. It was not good that his wife was unwilling or unable to talk to him. He turned his attention to the hostess. “Ma’am, is this Tom’s section?”
“Yes it is.”
“Thank you,” Richard said.
The couple sat down in the booth on opposite sides of the table. Ever so briefly, Richard thought about asking his wife to sit on the same side, as they always had. But what he had to say and the questions he had to ask, he needed to look her squarely in the eye.
Susan nervously began to straighten the sugar tray, salt and pepper shakers, and ketchup bottle. Richard picked up a menu in one hand and searched for an entrée that fancied him as he twirled a glass jar filled with tartar sauce with his free hand. The jar had a silver lid with a plastic spoon protruding through a hole in its top. Dried sauce was caked around the rim and had turned brown.
Tom rolled up to the table in his wheelchair. “Well, hello.” His words were slowed by his deep southern accent.
“Hey Tom,” Richard replied.
Susan only smiled at their waiter.
Tom pointed to her. “Merlot?”
“Not tonight. I think I’ll have a Tanquray and tonic, please,” she said.
Tom quickly scratched his pen across the receipt book he held in his hand. He looked hesitantly at Richard. “So, are you going to have your usual, beer?”
“No thanks. I’ll have a Maker’s Mark and Diet Coke.”
While writing down his drink order the waiter asked, “Need a minute before you order?”
“Yes, please,” Richard said.
With that response, Tom placed his left hand down around his waist and cupped his hand under his large belly that had grown over years of inactivity and lifted his tummy. He wedged his receipt book between the flesh of his stomach and his left thigh, and allowed his over-sized abdomen to flop on top, securing it be-fore propelling himself from the deck, into the dining room and out of sight.
Richard took a deep breath and began, “Do you know that ever since we met, I feel like I have done everything I could do to make you happy?” His words felt cumbersome.
Susan shrugged her shoulders and bobbed her head from side-to-side, not really committing to an answer.
“Well, at least I feel like I have, and maybe that’s the problem. In my defense, I’ve never been one to hang out in bars. I’ve never been one to spend all of my weekends on a golf course, or on a boat, away from you. I’ve always wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Maybe we have found ourselves in a situation where no matter what either of us do, we can't make the other happy.”
Susan saw his attempt at reconciliation as a weakness. She longed for a man who would take charge. Her life had always been defined by the will of others; only she had yet to realize it.
Just as he was about to continue, Emma appeared from nowhere. She stood at the end of the table, grinning. “Hey kids,” she said loudly, as if she wanted everyone in the restaurant to hear her. Richard looked around to see if anyone was looking their way. “Mind if I sit with you all?” she continued as she dropped her over-sized body onto the bench next to Susan. She slid down so that she faced Richard squarely. Her big body pressed against Susan’s petite frame pushing her against the inner wall of the booth.
“Whatcha’ talkin’ about?” the uninvited guest asked brashly.
Richard stared into Emma’s eyes, not answering her. This was quickly becoming more uncomfortable for him, more so than the conversation he feared having with Susan alone. This woman was obviously a friend. He wanted his wife to ask her to leave.
Her obnoxious manner filled the void in Susan’s psyche created by her upbringing. It seemed her esteem was acquiesced to those who subjugated it from her. Emma gladly filled the unwitting role of protectorate that Richard played until their move to Erstwhile. Smugly, Susan replied, “Richard was just explaining how devoted he has always been to me.”
“That’s funny,” Emma said, looking at Susan. She then looked Richard in the eye and accusingly continued, “Because I hear that you’ve been spending all night away from home. So who is it that you’ve been with?”
Richard looked at Emma. Then he looked at his wife. From both, all he garnered were emotionless stares. He had no desire to get into anything with a woman he did not know and had no idea how she fit into their marriage. Once again, he was made to face someone with whom Susan shared details of his short-comings.
“Who are you?” Richard asked.
“We met on the beach … ” Susan started.
“Years ago,” Emma finished. “Imagine my surprise when we ran into each other again after all these years.” She chuckled. “Which beach was it we met on?”
“It was … ” Susan tried to pick up on the game she played, but Emma was simply too astute at manipulation.
Once again, she finished Susan’s sentence. “Was it Captain’s Bay?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued. “We were both as naked as the day God brought us into this world. Man! Was that beach hard to get to? But it was nice and secluded, and the men there.” She finished in a breathy, ecstatic tone. “God, I can’t imagine having more fun than we did the week we spent there. I can probably count the number of hours we were clothed on one hand.” The woman turned to Susan, seemingly without stopping for a breath and continued. “Are your breasts just as perky as they were fifteen years ago?”
Richard looked at his wife. He raised his eye-brows as he waited for her answer.
“I suppose,” was the only response she could muster.
Richard had more questions about the woman he married than when they arrived at the restaurant. Be-fore he had too much time to think about it, Talitha appeared at the table.
“Hey Richard,” she said.
Richard greeted her with a smile, which caused Emma to slide her forearm across the edge of the table, elbowing Susan’s arm to alert her that there was some-thing more here than met the eye. “Hello, Talitha. How are you tonight?”
“Good.”
Richard held his hand, palm upward, toward Susan. “This is my wife, Susan.”
Talitha extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Talitha Keys.”
Susan shook her hand. “Susan Styles,” she said, without looking her in the eyes.
He looked at Emma. “I have no idea who this is,” he said to Talitha.
Talitha smiled at the woman in such a manner that put her on-notice that she knew the kind of games she was known to play. “I know Emma,” she responded smugly.
“Then it appears that everyone here has me at a disadvantage,” Richard continued.
“Is there something that you’re feeling guilty about?” Emma asked.
“Not at all,” he said without hesitation.
Speaking to everyone at the table, Talitha said, “Would you just look around this restaurant. Ain’t that a bitch? There’s not a single black person in here except for the busboy.” She looked at Richard, trying to communicate non-verbally the caution required when dealing with Emma. “Remember what I told you this after-noon?”
He nodded as Emma leaned toward Susan and whispered into her ear, “I’m sure it was no accident that they are both here tonight.”
“Alright, well I thought I’d just stop by and say hello, but it appears that I’ve worn out my welcome already,” Talitha said as she excused herself. She looked at Richard. “I hope to bump into you again one day soon.”
“That would be nice,” he said. No one said any-thing as the young girl walked away. Richard became frustrated with the situation. He looked at both women. “You know, the last time I felt like I had to be on the defensive was when I was in college. I sat across from two women who raked me over the coals for carrying on a relationship with both of them at the same time.”
His wife’s mouth dropped open. “Were their accusations true?”
“That I had dated them simultaneously?”
“Yes!”
“Yeah,” Richard admitted, sheepishly.
“Richard!”
His honesty gave Emma cause to grin. Her con-tempt ran deep, but like a surfacing whale it needed air to survive, and craved to be seen and felt, in order to sustain life. She began to look around the deck, nonchalantly, then sat up straight and stretched her neck, looking toward the inside dining room, as if she was focusing on something or someone in particular.
“Susan, is that Joseph?” gasped Emma in a giddy tone.
Susan looked to where her friend pointed. All she could see were the tables and booths filled with families. There were people walking about, between the tables, to and from the restrooms. She was not sure whether the man she spoke of was real. “I think you’re right,” Susan said, knowing there was a purpose to her friend’s question.
Emma leaned across the table toward Richard. “Joseph was the man she almost married about ten years ago.” He said nothing, and she continued, “He’s so tall. How tall was he, Susan, six-six?” Emma looked at Richard again. “He’s a much larger man than you.”
That was enough. “I tell you what; if he’s not too big to fit in this booth, he can have my seat.” Richard looked at his wife as he scooted toward the edge. “You’re more than welcome to come home with me if you’d like.” She sat perfectly still without saying a word. “Okay. I’ll walk home; it’s only a few miles. Do you have your keys to the Tahoe?”
She nodded.
“Goodnight,” Richard said directly to his wife. He had nothing to say to Emma.
The women sat silently, watching him walk from the deck, into the dining room and past the hostess station, eventually disappearing through the front door.
Emma swung around onto the vacant bench without standing erect, sliding her body around the table. She reached across and held Susan’s hands in her own. “Doesn’t the strength you showed tonight make you feel better about yourself?”
“Yes,” She replied. Her husband’s perceived lack of desire to stay and fight for her gave more credibility to her friend’s vitriol. For Susan, her new friend was filled with a substance that she found intoxicating.