Chapter 3

It was when I was driving back from Alpine Deli – Wednesdays it’s kind of a tradition at the insurance office to bring in sandwiches from Alpine, and me being the “new guy” it was up to me to go and pick up the order. So I’m driving back on Rosemont with the two Italian cold cuts, two turkey clubs, and three meatball and Provolone subs when it hit me:

I’m in love with Carole Wilson.

She’s the woman I want to be with. I want to go to sleep next to her every night and wake up next to each other every morning, and probably argue, and maybe even fight sometimes and then have amazing make-up sex. And share breakfasts at her – at our – kitchen table, and go grocery shopping, and to the movies, and...

And to be together.

And it was that weekend that we decided to “tell Richard” (even though I can’t believe he didn’t already know – or at least strongly suspect – that Carole and I... )

I worked at the insurance office Saturday until 1:30. Richie was going to be spending the night with his girlfriend Van and her parents (that seems to be happening a lot lately) but he knew that his mom had invited me to have dinner with her so he knew that I was going to be at his house that evening.

I went home and cleaned up and changed from my office clothes into something I hoped would be just right for an evening (and a night, and a morning) with Carole. (I also folded up my lightweight summer robe in what I hoped was an unobtrusive paper bag, then thought and tossed my deodorant in the bag along with the robe.)

I rang the doorbell about four o’clock, and the door opened almost the moment the bell rang, and I wondered if Carole had been standing by the door waiting for me. She invited me in, and just as soon as the door closed we hugged, and we kissed, and then we leaned back and looked at each other and laughed, and then we hugged and kissed some more. Then Carole too my hand and led us into the kitchen.

“I thought a shrimp and feta cheese and bowtie pasta salad would be perfect for us for this evening.” Then she smiled and said, like she was almost embarrassed to say it, “I didn’t use much garlic, though.”

Then, “Would you make the Caesar salad for us, David?” Of course she knew that I know how to make a Caesar salad – it’s one of the dozens of things she’d taught Richie and me to make over the years.

“And, David, maybe light on the anchovies...?”

Yes, my darling Carole – I’ll go light on the anchovies.

And while we were cooking – or assembling – dinner we talked, about out weeks, and about Richie – Richard – and my folks.

“Would you please open the wine...?” and I went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of the Italian white wine that seems to have become “our favorite” – this time I noticed that the label said Soave Classico – I guess Classico’s good, right?

Anyhow, we enjoyed our lovely, light dinner, then put the dishes and bowls in the dishwasher and headed to the den. We tried to watch a rerun of a serious cop show but couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other. Carole picked up the remote and turned off the TV, and she didn’t have to tell me that we should go upstairs now.

And like last week, we fucked, and we made love, and then more of both.

And this time it was easier, because this time we were sure. She knew that I cared for her and wanted her. And I knew that she cared for me and wanted me.

Sunday morning, after a little great wake-up sex (am I going to be able to have this for the rest of my life!) we went downstairs. Carole put on the coffee and I got out coffee mugs and juice glasses and poured OJ and then Carole started making French toast. And later as we were eating our French toast I thought: How many mornings over the last 10 years have I sat like this, at this table, eating breakfast that Richie’s mom made for us?

That Carole made for us.

And now, for us – for her and me.

“David?”

“Yes?”

“You know that Richard’s coming back this morning, and Van’ll probably be with him.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I know that Richie and Van are going to be here in a little while, and when they do, will they find me here, with Carole – his mother?

Or will I be gone – hurrying – slinking? – back to my house, to avoid Richie from finding me at home with his mother early on a Sunday morning?

I knew what she was getting at.

“So ... are we doing this, David?”

By which she meant, “Are we – you and I – going to be together – for real – for a long time?”

“Yes, Carole, we’re doing this.” Not the slightest hesitation, not a moment’s doubt in my mind.

She smiled, and she took my hand in hers and we leaned toward each other and we kissed.

And I guess that that was our “proposal” to each other – that, yes, she and I are “doing this.”

And that meant that we need to tell Richie – Richard.

He had phoned to let his mom know that he and Van would be coming by about 10:00.

A little after ten we heard the sound of the car pull into the driveway and the kitchen screen door opening and Richie’s “Hey, anyone home?” and he and Van walked in to find me there in his kitchen, standing next to his mom, holding hands.

He looked at the two of us there together for a moment and then said, “I figured...”

Van wasn’t quite so caj about it. She broke into an enormous smile and rushed over to Carole and threw her arms around her gave her a big kiss – on the lips, which surprised me – and rocked Carole back and forth, then kissed her again before letting go, still smiling.

Richie stepped over to me and hugged me. And I wondered “When did Rich get so strong.” Then he turned to his mom and put his arms around her – more gently than he had with me – and held her real close and kissed her hair, then gave her a kiss on the lips, and they didn’t seem to need to say anything to each other.

After Richie and Carole finished “their moment,” he turned to me and looked straight at me.

“Davey, I’m happy for you, man, and for my mom. I’ve known you two-thirds of my life, and I know that you’re a good guy – a good man – and I know how Mom feels about you...

“But Davey, if you ever hurt my mom, Davey, I swear, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Then, more gently, he asked, “So what are you two doing to do about it?”

Well, I guess the next thing for me – for us – to do is, we’ve got to tell my parents.

Richie and Van went up to his room to stream some music, leaving Carole and me standing there, both of us knowing exactly what Rich was referring to, and what we need to do. But first...

“How about it. How do you think Rich... ard took it?”

She took my hand.

“He took it like I hoped he would – I think he’s happy for us, or mainly, happy for me, that I’m going to have a real person in my life besides him. But I’m sure it’s rough for him to see me with someone who’s much younger – someone who’s only his age – but I think he understands and that it’s you – someone that he knows and can trust.”

That’s what I had hoped for, and I think Carole’s take on his reaction was right.

She turned and kissed me. Then she said, “Now’s where it gets tricky.”

Yes, now it gets tricky.

She was obviously referring to having to drop the other shoe. Her son knows about “us.” Now it’s time to tell my mom and dad.

I called home and told my mom that I’d be on my way soon, and oh, yeah, that Carole was coming, too.

Over the past few weeks they’ve gotten used to me calling Richie’s mom “Carole” so I’m pretty sure that didn’t surprise them. What I’m sure they couldn’t understand was why “Carole” would be with me this morning.

On the way over we talked about the best way to do this, and we decided that the best way would be for me to take the lead and tell them as simply and directly as possible.

After the initial hugs and greetings I stood there next to Carole and said, “Mom, Dad, Carole and I have decided that we want to be together.”

It took a second for that to register with them. Then Mom looked straight at Carole with a sharp, almost accusatory look that seemed to say, “Are you serious? Have you thought this through?” Carole seemed to “understand” what Mom’s look meant, and it looked like she nodded, just the slightest bit. But I might have imagined that.

Mom asked me if I was sure about this, or how sure I was. Then she asked Carole. When I said that we had talked about it a lot, and that, yes, we were both sure. Anyhow, as soon as we said that we’re sure, the next thing Mom did was throw her arms around me and give me the tightest hug she’s ever given me. Then she turned to Carole and hugged her, almost as hard as she’d hugged me.

Next, my dad. Being a guy, he slapped me on the shoulder and grabbed my hand and gave me a big “congratulatory” handshake. Then he released his grip on me and turned to Carole and hugged her. And it surprised me that she didn’t seem the least bit surprised by this physical gesture of affection from him.

“David, we’re very happy for you – for both of you. Carole, we’ve always liked you and thought that you’re a good person, and in fact Grant and I have often said – not to David, of course!” and she laughed, “ ... that we hoped that someday he would find a girl or woman like you. We just never thought that it would be you! Or that ‘someday’ would be so soon!” and she hugged me again.

“And Carole ... well, ‘surprised’ doesn’t even come close. But on the other hand, we tried to raise David to be a good person, and I guess if someone like you ... finds him ... the kind of man that you want to be with, well, I guess we did OK.” She hugged Carole again.