Chapter 3

Brian's Blackberry signaled an incoming call and he answered. "Hi, Debra."

How did you know it was me? she asked.

"From the caller ID on the screen."

Oh ... Brian -- I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow night.

"Tuesday? What did you have in mind?"

Umm ... Well, Kaycee is having Dug over...

"On a Tuesday? They can't wait 'til the weekend?"

Dug has an away game this weekend and the team will be traveling Friday evening. Besides, the coach imposes a strict curfew on the night before a game.

Brian chuckled. "I recall reading about that practice. I saw a quote from Casey Stengel. He said it's not the sex that wrecks these guys -- it's the staying up all night looking for it."

Debra laughed. Dug doesn't have to look far for it.

"Do you like sports?" he asked. "That's something we could do sometime -- go to a game."

I'm not a big sports fan. Are you?

"No, not really. I used to follow the team when I was an undergraduate. Since my freshman year, they've had twelve straight losing seasons. It's enough to dampen a fan's enthusiasm. I think it's my fault -- I'm a jinx. They won't have a winning season until I quit my job and move to Moldova."

She laughed. You were an undergraduate here?

"Yeah -- I did internships at the University IT department. They liked me well enough to hire me. I started as a programmer and worked my way up to Systems Analyst."

Don't they use students for a lot of that work? she asked.

"We do, but we need a core staff of professionals for critical systems. So, for Dug and Kaycee, Tuesday is this week's Friday?"

Tuesday works for them because her first class on Wednesday is at eleven.

"When's your first class?" he asked.

I have the same schedule as she does.

"Well -- I need to be at work at eight-thirty..."

Oh... He could hear her disappointment.

" ... but that shouldn't stop us from getting together Tuesday night. I can pick you up after work and we could go get a burger or something. Then we could go home and spend the evening making out."

She giggled. Maybe we could watch that Russian movie you told me about.

"Solaris? Sure -- I'd love to watch it with you. I could be there between five and five-thirty."

Okay ... would it be all right if I brought an overnight bag? Dug and Kaycee tend to make it a late night.

"As we discovered. No -- that's fine. See you tomorrow night." He dismissed the call and rubbed his hands together.

Brian sat beside Debra. He dipped into a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. "How do you like the movie so far," he asked.

"It's interesting."

"How are you holding up? It's a long film -- nearly three hours."

"I'm good."

"Are your eyes doing okay? Do you want to pause for an intermission?"

She patted the back of his hand. "I'm doing fine, Brian." She kissed his cheek. "Thanks for your concern, though."

He picked the last few kernels from among the unpopped ones. "Shall I make more?"

"Not on my behalf."

Brian set the bowl aside and rested his feet on the coffee table. He stretched his arm around Debra's shoulders. She leaned against him.

The film's credits rolled. Brian ejected the disc from his player. "What did you think?"

"It's unlike any movie I've seen," she replied. "When you told me it was science-fiction, I thought..."

"You expected it to be a space opera with guys shooting monsters with ray guns."

"Yeah. I was prepared to watch it politely with you."

"It's really a film about love and loss and memories," he said. "In some ways it's like a Phillip K. Dick story only softer and gentler."

Debra nodded. "Yes ... I'm not sure I got all the nuances, though."

"Tarkovsky has been called a visual poet. He approaches the story slowly and obliquely. You understood that they were on a space station around an alien planet."

"Yes, I got that."

"And, that the planet is completely covered by an ocean that appears to be a single, sentient organism."

"Yes, I got that, too."

"The ocean can read their minds and project facsimiles of people they knew."

"Yeah, I saw that. The main character ... Kris?"

"Kris Kelvin," he replied.

"Kris sees a projection of his dead wife, Hari."

"Right ... Hari committed suicide as the result of their failed relationship."

"I didn't pick up on her suicide," Debra admitted.

"The film is so deep and textured you really need to see it multiple times to appreciate it. I think more than any movie I know, it's one that rewards repeated viewings."

"That makes more sense," she said. "He got a second chance to set things right with her."

"And, he blows it," Brian noted. "Of course, the projection isn't based on Hari. It's based on Kris's memory of her; so she must be an imperfect replica."

"Imperfect?"

"No matter how well we know someone, we'll never know everything. I think we all harbor secrets that we share with no one. I'll bet if that ocean could make a doppelganger of one's own self, it still would be an imperfect copy."

"Why do you think that?" she asked.

"Because I think we harbor secrets we keep even from ourselves."

Debra picked up the DVD case. She lifted her glasses and held it inches from her face.

"How about some hot chocolate?" he said. "I have some Ibarra -- Mexican hot chocolate. It's supposed to be made with water, but I like to make it with milk."

"Okay."

Brian took a large, thick tablet of chocolate from a box and cut it in half. He poured milk into a pan and began heating it. Into the warming milk he dropped half of the tablet. The chocolate began to melt. He beat the milk with a spoon and poured it into two mugs.

"Here," he said. Debra was looking at other titles in his DVD collection.

"You like odd films," she remarked.

"I like odd things."

"Is that why you like me -- because I'm odd?"

"I like the unusual and the unique," he replied. "You definitely are unique." He handed her a mug.

She sipped. "Oh -- this is nice ... with a touch of cinnamon. I like it. It's unusual and unique."

"That's why I like it. If you see anything you'd like to watch, tell me. Not tonight -- it's getting too late to start another movie."

She emptied her mug. "That really hit the spot," she said.

He pulled out his Blackberry and regarded the time. "It's a little after nine -- too early to turn in. How about we sit and talk?"

"Mmm..."

Brian carried the empty mugs to his kitchen. Then he sat on the sofa.

Debra sat on his lap. He stroked her cheek, kissed her lips and then lifted her glasses from her. "I love your eyes ... even if they do their little dance for me." He stroked her cheek again. "I love your broad forehead..."

"My egg head?"

"It makes you look intelligent. I like intelligent girls. And, I love your skin ... and your hair..."

"You seem to love the things about me that I don't particularly care for," she said.

"I love all of you, Debra. I love you."

"I know you do, Brian. I know."

"Do you love me?"

"Those are words that have always been difficult for me to say."

He kissed her lips again. "Then, tell me in other ways." Brian took her hand and placed it on his chest. He kissed her, relaxed his jaw and with his tongue stroked her lips. She relaxed hers and they took turns exploring each other's mouths.

Brian kissed her chin. He kissed her neck, unbuttoned the top button of her blouse and kissed the top of her sternum. Her eyes remained fixed on his, hers jiggling back and forth from the congenital nystagmus from which she suffered.

He loosened the remaining buttons on her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. Debra threw her arms back and it fell to the floor. Brian ran his finger from her right shoulder, following her strap and traced the outline her bra made on her chest. He traced the outline again, this time dipping his finger under the fabric. He could feel a knot of flesh firming under the fabric.

Brian slipped the left strap off her shoulder and peeled down the cup to expose her compact A-size breast. He regarded her erect pink nipple, surrounded by a pale, half-dollar sized areola.

"You have gorgeous breasts," he exclaimed as he pulled down her right bra strap.

"Wouldn't you them better if they were bigger?" she asked.

"No. Not at all."

"I thought guys liked chesty women."

"I think yours are very sexy and they're perfect for your frame. I love your pink nipples. Pink is your color, Debra."