Bill had been absolutely my best friend for the last four years. Four years ago I had moved here to start college and this May I would be graduating with a degree in Political Science. It was frightening moving to a new town where I didn't know anyone, but with Bill and I living in the same apartment complex, we quickly grew to like one another and he looked out for me as he was 38 years old, 16 years my senior.
Outwardly, we had been pals for the last four years. Inwardly, my heart thumped twice as fast every time I saw him. I have to admit I was attracted by his face and body the first time I laid my eyes on him. He was built almost like a Greek statue, only a bit more subtle and less of the showoff type. His eyes were blue and his chest was the masculine type that I often wanted to curl up against and cry after a hard day of work or school.
He and I shared a lot of the same interests. We both enjoyed fishing, listening to music and playing downtown at the arcade or going for walks. There was some sexual tension. We both enjoyed the same kind of music and we would bring our CDs to one another's apartment to listen to them, but when a slow, romantic song came onto the stereo we'd both reach for the dial to change it, our hands bumping one another and our faces flushing at the same time. A few awkward words would be expressed and we'd continue with our puzzle or our card game or game of chess. But in no way did we say or do anything to one another that was suggestive. I knew from my point of view, I was afraid to do anything going passed our friendship, for fear of hurting it. That was, until St. Valentine's Day was fast approaching.
Valentine's Day was only one week away, and I decided that that's when I would make my move towards Bill. He was just mad about Italian food, and I decided I was going to make him a hearty pasta-and-breadsticks meal. But more than that. I bought long, red candlesticks with clear glass candle holders for the living room, dining area and bedroom. There were only two things I was missing: A clean apartment (which I would do on Valentine's Day before he came over) and a piece of lingerie that I thought he would like. Of course, I had lingerie, but I wanted to pick out the perfect kind, the kind that would wow him and make him fall for me instantly.
A few days before, I had already invited him over for dinner on Valentine's Day, so I knew he could make it. To at least attempt to ease any romantic suspicions he might have, I had told him over the phone, "No reason why two friends can't enjoy that day of the year, especially if we don't have dates". But I knew all my romantic intentions would be laid out before him once he entered my apartment and saw the candlelight and heard the dim music in the background.
On Wednesday the 12th I came home from work at the diner and I showered. I smelled of cheeseburgers and milkshakes. After my shower I wrapped a towel around my body and started to brush and dry my hair when the phone rang. I turned off the dryer and walked to the phone in the living room.
"Hello?"
"Hey," a gruff voice said. It was Bill. "I figured you were home by now. How was your day at work?"
I smiled, happy to hear from him. It didn't seem to matter how often I heard from him, it seemed like every time I heard from him, it was as exciting as the first. "A very long day, but can you believe it, I have a four day weekend! It's been at least four years since I've had four days off in a row where I've had no school and no work."
"Wow, I-"
There was an abrupt silence and I knew what was happening. I smiled.
"Bill," I said teasingly, "put out that cigar".
I heard him choking, "Laura, how did you know I was smoking?"
"Just a hunch," I said with a giggle.
"Aw, come on," he said. I could hear him grinning. "A guy has to have a smoke once in a while."
I laughed, "I guess so. So how was your day at work?"
"The same stuff. Boss loses paperwork, boss misses meeting, boss, of course, takes it out on employees. Sounds logical. Listen, if you're not busy tonight do you want to come over? I was talking to this buddy of mine at work. He gave me a new strategy at chess, and I'm ready to kick your skinny heiney. What do you say? We can play chess and watch the news - you know, floods, murders, republicans, that sort of thing. How about it?"
I grinned and I knew the dimples in my cheeks were showing. My eyes were dancing at the idea of seeing him again. "Count me in, I'll be over there in about a half-hour."
We hung up and agreed thirty minutes would be a good time to meet. I finished drying my hair and put on my pajamas. Let me explain. Frequently when Bill and I met in the evenings, we'd often go to one another's places in our pajamas. It was our way of spending the evening in comfortable clothing with a comfortable companion, sheltering ourselves from the harsh, outside world. So as I said before, I put on my pajamas, my favorite pair, in fact, which were pink silk pants and a baggy matching button-up top.
The day before I had made a cake, so I put a piece in a Tupperware box and walked downstairs to the first floor where Bill's apartment was. Right below my apartment was Mrs. Richmond and next door to her was Bill's place. I thumped on his door and heard a friendly, welcoming voice to come on in.
I walked in to the living room. A card table was all set up along with a chess game. Sure enough, the news was on the television. I assumed he was in his bedroom, as I saw a light coming from there. I stood there like a dolt for a moment and he came out of his room. I blushed for a moment when I saw him, as he was only wearing boxers and a t-shirt. Normally during out pajama nights he wore flannel pants, a shirt and a bathrobe, so I wasn't used to see him like this. He looked absolutely beautiful though.
He smiled, "What's that?" he asked pointing to the box.
"Oh, this? This is a pi-piece of cake I made the other day. I thought you might like some....Cake, I mean." I stood there holding it for a moment and gave it to him.
"It looks delicious, I'm going to have it right now. Take a seat at the table, I'll be right back."
I heard his refrigerator door open and the clang of the silverware. He returned with a can of pop and the piece of cake on a plate. He took a seat across from me. Always wanting to be the white pieces in chess so he could go first, he did his customary move which was moving the pawn that was farthest to the left, up ahead two spaces.
I giggled to myself as I observed him looking at the board. He was puffing on a cigar, drinking a soda and in between, he was eating the dessert. We made small chit-chat here or there, but for the most part we were quiet, not really needing words all the time. And then I made a stupid move. I made my bishop vulnerable and sure enough, he brought his queen out and captured it. He tilted his head back and laughed.
"Be quiet!" I said distressed. "You think that's funny, choking a bishop!"
He laughed even harder at my embarrassing faux-pas. I blushed, but tried to laugh it off with him. A moment later he collected himself and I moved one of my pawns forward.
"Hey kid," he said quietly, pointing out my awkwardness. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, "Yes, I'm fine."
I don't know why I was getting so emotional. It wasn't about the bishop and it wasn't about my comment. It was that I was so close to this man I cared so much for, and yet I couldn't have him. He might as well have been on the other side of the world, he was that unattainable to me. I sighed. Seeing something was wrong, Bill came over to my chair and kneeled down so he would be eye-to-eye with me.
"What is it, pumpkin?" he asked sweetly.
I looked at him curiously, as he had never referred to me as anything besides either 'Laura' or 'kid'. I didn't care anymore. I gently grasped his face and tilted my face and moved in towards him and softly kissed him on the lips. He was still at first and I started to wiggle my body and stroke his hair to warm him up. He finally gave up his resistance and gave in to me, moaning into my mouth and digging his long fingers into my hair. I began to nuzzle his neck, rubbing my nose into his skin when he gently pulled me away.
"Pumpkin," he said, looking me in the eyes, out of breath. "We can't do this. I feel like I would be taking advantage of you. You're only 22. Please understand."
My eyes searched his for some sort of validation, for some of answer, but I found none. I could only see in his eyes which I'm sure the things that showed in mine which was confusion, desperation, a loss for words. I got up from the chair and ran out of his apartment and bolted upstairs to my place. I cried heartily out of embarrassment when I locked my door behind me. I fell into the armchair and collapsed into my arms, weeping in humiliation until I woke up the next morning.
The next morning I woke up in the armchair and laid there for several minutes, thinking about what had happened the night before. I questioned myself: What had happened? What should I do now? Well, now he knew how I felt, that special spark I felt about him. It was the thirteenth and now what I was going to do tomorrow? I thought long and hard and decided I was still going to go through with my plan. I would make him mine if it's the last thing I would ever accomplish in my life.
I went shopping for lingerie and after several hours, I found the perfect thing that he would like to see me in: a red, lace baby doll. It fit my body like a glove. I felt sexy and youthful in it and I decided to buy it. When I returned home I spent the next several hours cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. Finally, Bill and I engaged in an awkward phone conversation. I wanted to make sure tomorrow was still on. He said it was and so now all I had to do was wait.
