Chapter 4

Rhonda didn’t know what to do. She was mortified, and embarrassed. She thought about just leaving, but it was her house, and she didn’t have anywhere else to go. She looked around. He was gone, but he was coming back. He’d said he would be right back. She had no idea what he’d do then, but she was quite sure it would embarrass her. Why had he told her not to worry and then bragged about what a great time she’d have when he got back? She didn’t understand men, or how to act around them. She wanted to cry, but she was determined not to cry in front of him.

Suddenly he was back. She looked at him fearfully, and backed against the counter. He was so tall, and he looked strong as an ox. She watched, warily as he sat down in the chair Janet had been sitting in.

“How about that coffee now?” he asked.

“Coffee?” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “It’s that stuff you spilled on the counter a little while ago.”

“You want coffee?” she asked, confused. Wasn’t he supposed to sweep her off her feet and bury her in hot kisses or something like that?

“Well, I assume you don’t agree with your friend, about how you need to be loved up and kissed, and all that stuff,” he said. “You didn’t look too comfortable when she was talking about it.” He smiled. “I thought maybe we could have some coffee and talk, instead.”

“You want to talk to me?” she asked.

“Why not?” he asked. “You’re a nice looking woman. It turns out you can actually talk, and I really like the sound of your voice - I’ve always been partial to altos - and I’m sure you have a story or two to tell, and I do too. Janet is expecting me to make mad passionate love to you for an hour or so, so we have some time to kill. Can you think of anything better to do?”

Rhonda was beginning to realize that she was in no danger. He actually wanted to talk to her! She couldn’t remember the last time a man had said he wanted to sit and talk with her. Her hands were steady as she turned, and poured his coffee. She took it in one hand, and the pot in the other, and warmed up her own cup, which was already on the table.

She sat down, somewhat tentatively.

“So,” he said, reaching for his cup and taking a sip. “Good coffee!” he said. “So, do you want to tell the first story, or do you want me to?”

“I don’t know any stories,” she said.

“Sure you do,” he said. “I’ll tell one first. Maybe that will remind you of one, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, feeling more relaxed. He wasn’t anything like she’d thought he was going to be. He seemed like a nice young man.

He told her a story about how he had played a prank on his eldest sister, Mary. He described how his sisters got into the habit of taking their showers in a specific order. One night, while Flo was drying off, and before Mary started taking her shower, he shut the water off. Then he unscrewed the water pipe that came up out of the water heater and went to the various places in the house that used hot water. He’d poured two packages of Rit dye down into the pipe, and then hooked everything up again. When Mary went into the shower, she was standing under it when the dye hit the shower head, and it stained her whole body bright lobster red. She’d had red skin and bright red hair for a week afterwards. She was fifteen at the time. By the time he was finished, Rhonda was laughing out loud, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. She told him how terrible that was, and how he’d probably scarred the poor girl for life, but laughed anyway.

“Your turn,” he said.

“I can’t compete with that,” she sighed. “The craziest thing I ever did was hide all my father’s pens and pencils, so he couldn’t write a note to my teacher telling her she could whip me if I misbehaved.”

Bobby grinned. “You feel better now?”

She looked at him. “You chased her out of here on purpose ... didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“She was making you miserable,” he said.

“She’s got a good heart, really. She’s just trying to help. She thinks I need...” She stopped, then went on. “She thinks I need to get laid. She thinks that will solve everything.”

“You’re married,” he said. “Don’t married women get laid pretty regularly?”

“Not me,” she said. “My husband ... it’s very personal.”

“All I can tell you is that I’ll never tell anyone else anything you tell me,” he said. “If you want to talk about it, you can, but you don’t have to. I’ll just listen.”

Rhonda wondered if this man might understand what was going on with Herb, or at least help her understand. He’d been nothing but sweet to her. He’d chased away her best friend, but then, sometimes Janet needed to be chased away.

“You promise?” she asked.

“I promise,” he said.

It was a catharsis, of sorts. Somehow, even though he was a complete stranger, she felt more comfortable telling him about it than she would have if he were a friend. She told him things she’d never think of admitting to Janet. When she was done she felt drained, but, somehow, better.

“You’ve stayed with him for twelve years?” was his only comment.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said. “I’m not pretty, like Janet. He was the only man who had paid any attention to me, really. I was stuck, in a way. Back then I didn’t have any skills to get a decent job with – not one where I could support myself. Even now I’m nobody special at work. Anybody could do my job. And he was so pitiful when he begged me not to tell anyone, or divorce him. It really would ruin his life if it ever got out. I guess I just got used to it.”

“And you haven’t had sex for what? Eleven and a half years?” His face was unreadable.

“Nope,” she sighed. “But I’m used to that too. He was my first, and it wasn’t all that interesting, even before I knew ... his tastes.”

Bobby appeared to think for a bit.

“I have some opinions,” he said.

“What are they?” she asked.

“Well, just remember ... they’re only my opinions. In the first place, you’re prettier than you think you are. It’s just my opinion, but I think you’re quite pretty. As for job skills, you probably have more than you realize. You’ve lived life, and managed a house and a budget. You can learn other things that will make you valuable enough to some employer to pay you more than you get right now. You don’t have to be as dependent on him as you have been.”

Bobby shook his head and frowned gently.

“I admire you for your loyalty, but I can’t help thinking that, for twelve years, he’s gotten everything he wants and needs ... the appearance of a normal life ... affection ... someone to keep house for him ... all that. But you’ve gotten the short end of the stick. You got none of the things you wanted. As for the sex ... it sounds to me like you don’t have the faintest idea of what that could be like. You might be used to what you have ... or don’t have ... but I’m pretty sure that if you ever got a taste of what you’ve been missing, you’d decide you weren’t going to go back to what you have right now.”

“I can’t just divorce him,” said Rhonda. “It would ruin him.”

“I didn’t say anything about divorce,” said Bobby. “All I said was that things need to be evened up some. I think you should get a little part time job somewhere, just to get a little experience. And, I hate to admit it, but I agree with Janet. I think you ought to get laid.”