An online novel by Gillette Edmunds

After Michael sat down at a table with Hardwood and the Salazars, he noticed Barbara sitting with the Nortons across the restaurant. He looked away from her.

Barbara picked at her fish, took a spoonful of the wine sauce, and pushed her plate over to Thomas Norton. In London he ate a whole plate of fish and chips Cynthia had discarded in his direction. “Oh, I want to try that sauce,” he said, smiling at Barbara. She was not hungry. She was angry. She was terribly horny. Her period was coming, she thought. Maybe that is what is going on. She hadn’t had any relief since Chuck left. Thomas offered her a glass of wine. She said no. She was afraid of drinking right now. Everything was annoying. The laughter in the room, Thomas Norton’s smile, sitting here. She was pissed she had no husband next to her. Everyone could see that. Here she was with this happy couple and she hated them for being happy and together. She had no money. She hated that they were so understanding and bought her everything and refused to be paid back even after she figured out how to get some money. She felt bad and she wanted desperately to act badly towards these polite people. And she hated that Michael was in the restaurant. Why couldn’t he find his own restaurant?

Michael and Capt. Hardwood were yelling back and forth about the prostitutes they had encountered on the street outside the restaurant. He’s drunk again, Barbara thought. She overheard Michael say something about those who don’t eat their food should take it to the prostitutes. His IQ drops to zero when he drinks.

“They’re starving for a good meal,” Michael said. “That’s why they do it.”

“It’s not food they’re starving for,” Capt. Hardwood yelled back.

“It’s not food you bachelors are starving for either,” Jerome yelled out.

“Here’s a good joke,” Barbara said to Cynthia Norton. She poured some catsup on the tablecloth and sprinkled salt all over it. She held her hand above the mixture. “Feel the heat from the chemical reaction,” she said. She withdrew her hand and Cynthia put her hand over the mixture.

“No,” Cynthia said.

“You fool,” Barbara said and pushed Cynthia’s hand down into the catsup.

Thomas Norton looked at Barbara.

Cynthia laughed at herself. “My students wouldn’t even fall for that one,” she said.

“It’s not really funny,” Barbara said. She stood up and excused herself.

She walked slowly to the door, careful not to look Michael’s direction, opened it, and ran down the street. She saw the river and the tree lined walk beside it and turned. Cars were parked over the curb and across the walk. She ran around them, into the street, back onto the sidewalk, and kept running. When she couldn’t breathe, she stopped. At least I didn’t cry today, she thought.