“Can’t you let me take you someplace nice, Etta?” Tom asked, sitting in the lounger in the living room of his sisters’ house.
“I want to go to the Wooden Nickel.” She came down the stairs, holding stud earrings in her hand, stopping at the hallway mirror to place them in her ears. “I haven’t been there yet and everybody talks about it all the time. Murphy and Donovan and all of the guys seem to like the place and I want to see it. They rave about the food.” Tom shut the TV off as they discussed the evening plans. Sophie came down the stairs right behind Etta into the midst of the “discussion”.
“That’s just it. It’s a guys’ place. Sophie, can’t you talk her out of this need to see the WN?”
“Don’t get me in the middle of this. I can’t stand the place, except for the men. Besides, I have somewhere to go.” She went to the back hallway to get her coat, then came back into the living room and was putting on her mittens and hat.
“See! Even Sophie doesn’t like it.”
“What do you mean ‘even Sophie’ … like I’m some kind of second class citizen? I’m supposed to like that dump?” she asked, adjusting her hair in the hallway mirror.
“Well, you’re just – oh, shit – see, now I’m in trouble with her too!”
“You’re not exactly batting a thousand tonight, Tommy. You might want to watch what you say to the ump,” Sophie said.
“Oh, I should, should I? Soph, tell her it’s a pit. I can take her someplace nice.”
Sophie pushed her fists into the arms of her coat, looked down at Etta as she finished tying the laces of her good pair of boots. “Etta, it’s a pit. Make him take you somewhere nice. Seriously, it’s a trashy, disgusting biker bar with girls running around showing T&A. He can do better.” She finished buttoning her coat then walked out the door, wiggling her fingers as she went, “Too-da-loo.”
Tom stood from his chair and sighed deeply. “What she said. Anywhere else.”
Etta stood, her hands on her hips facing Tom. “Would you like to get to second base tonight, Tom?”
“Yes.” His face had a look a little like a wounded puppy.
“Then take me to the Wooden Nickel. And soon. I’m starved.”
“Okay. But you asked for this.” He went to grab both of their coats and associated trimmings from the back hall. He walked back in the living room and handed her mittens to her and they both started applying their outer wear for the outside.
“So it’s really disgusting, huh? And you go there?”
“I don’t really like it much. It’s much more Murphy’s kind of place, which should tell you something. I’m with Sophie. It’s trashy, but they have good food,” he said, as he snapped his coat closed.
Pulling on her jacket she asked, “Well, that’s what I’m after. Do you think I’m some kind of snob, Tom? That I haven’t seen trashy bars before? Because I’m not. I’m not that kind of person.”
He walked up to her, standing at the back of the couch and pulled her to him by the lapels of her jacket, holding her around the waist. “I know you’re not. I thought the first time I took you on a real date we could go someplace nice is all. We’ll go where you want and talk about what you want. We’ll go at your pace.” He leaned in to peck her gently on the cheek.
She looked up into his eyes. “Good, because we need to talk about things. You know, how we’ll handle things with people…. Logistics.”
“Logistics?” He leaned away from her a bit.
“Yeah, and a seedy bar is just the place.” She took his gloved hand and led the way out the door. They walked, in the cold air, the few blocks to the biker bar. They walked into the bar, which felt warm and inviting after their brisk, but short, walk. The place definitely lived up to its reputation. Every conceivable beer emblem decorated practically every square inch of the crowded, smoky bar room. A giant oak bar with tacky posters of half-nude women taped along the back was lined with men, most wearing dusty or worn blue jeans and sweatshirt or the rudimentary red and black gingham flannel shirt. These were working men, mainly drinking either a beer, served in Mason jars, or hard liquor. There were lots of different kinds of men, bald, some with big moustaches, some short and wiry.
The waitresses wore very skimpy outfits consisting of extremely short cutoffs, low-cut denim shirts tied in the front with a black lace bra to show maximum cleavage. Most of them had strategically placed tattoos with a myriad of designs, mainly crosses or flowers. There must have been a dress code that required too much make-up as well, because they all had nearly gothic lips adorned in deep purple or black lipstick.
Tom and Etta took a seat at a high table near the back of the bar, with a TV stand overhead, which carried a professional hockey game. The Islanders vs. Detroit was the match-up for the night.
“Are you interested in the game? If you want, we can sit so you can watch it,” Etta suggested.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t care much to watch it.”
“Really?”
“It’s not nearly as fun to watch as it is to play.” He grinned at the surprised look on her face. “Hmmmm …. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I suppose you’re right. Why there are no spectator knitting shows.” He chuckled.
Their waitress came over and they both ordered a beer and decided to split a greasy burger and share some onion rings. “Well, Tom, I think you pegged this place well.”
“If the food weren’t good, I wouldn’t ever come here. Not my kind of scene. I could never pass myself off as a biker dude.”
“Nope, I can’t see it either. But I thought we could talk about the necessities of life here without anybody bothering us or getting distracted with romance.”
“Such as?”
“Birth control and other things.”
“Oh. You’re right. This is a good place.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I don’t know why I ever doubted you.” Although he’d said he wasn’t interested, Tom took long draws off his beer and kept his eye on the game as they sat and held hands. Wafts of cigar smoke occasionally drifted their way as the clashing noise of much too loud rock music filled the room. Tom sat with her, holding her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles as their talked about their day. Their waitress brought their food and they shared the drippy burger and extraordinarily tasty onion rings.
“Mmmm …. These are sinful, but delicious,” she said, taking a bit out of a hand-made onion ring. “We’ll need to run an extra mile tomorrow, but I don’t care tonight.”
“I think they’re worth it.” He licked his fingers, then took a napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “You’ve got a spot of ketchup.” He stood up, came up to her and said, “Nope. That won’t do it. I’ll have to get it.” He leaned into her and licked at the spot he’d just rubbed, then covered her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Her heart pounded in her chest, before he pulled back to look in her face. “Yes, much better.” He returned to his chair, a wicked grin on his face.
“You’re a dangerous man, Tom Donato. I’ve got to keep my eye on you.” She pursed her lips feigning a look of being prim and proper.
“So, second base, huh? When did you decide this?”
“Mmmm … I’ve been thinking about it a long time.” She took another small bite of her burger. “I thought we could use that silk scarf like guys do a tie.” His eyebrows lifted. “No. Not like that. Well, maybe …. but, you know, a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on my doorknob. What do you think?”
“Sounds like a good plan. Not what I thought when I bought it, but that’ll work.”
“Okay, just because curiosity killed the cat … When did you buy the scarf?”
Tom shifted in his seat, glancing up at the hockey game to check the score. He paused another moment. “Truth is ….. well, after that first kiss after CoCo’s. I was bound and determined to get enough kisses to offset a silk scarf, so I figured I might as well go all out. In for a penny, in for a pound.”
She threw her head back and laughed heartily. “I never stood a chance, did I?”
He looked at her over his beer glass. “Not really,” chuckling at his good fortune.
“Well, I started birth control that night too, so I guess both our minds were in the same place.” “Really. Hmmmm ….. now isn’t that interesting.” He paused and thought about things for a moment. She’d known it, just like him, from that first kiss. Or maybe it was the hypnosis. She’d felt the same kick of need and longing that had rushed through him that night. And despite shutting off their feelings and trying to just be friends, those longings had to be met. It was inevitable. This was his fate. No, it was their fate.
“Neither of us stood a chance,” she said, practically yelling to make herself heard over the loud head-banger music that was piped into the bar. She wiped her face and fingers with her napkin, placing it on the table. “Well, now that we’ve had their food, can we maybe find a nicer place to sit and talk and maybe you can steal second? It’s way too loud in here and the ambiance is …. Well, it’s lacking something, ya know?”
“Definitely. Let’s go home.”
* * *
Etta was writing in her room away from everyone on her one free afternoon. She was working on the exciting part of her mystery, where the boys were running from the killer after they’d stumbled upon him digging a grave in the woods. The action was rousing and seemed to flow from her fingers as she wrote. There hadn’t been much need for editing as she’d had this scene in her mind from the outset and knew exactly how she wanted it to go. It was just a matter of putting the words on paper. It was the crux of the adventure from boyhood to manhood for her protagonists. The steps they took through the woods were the ones that would lead them through the rest of their lives.
The only problem was the cramping. Because she wrote by hand instead of on a computer, it was slow and tedious and lead to cramps in her hands, her arms and her back. It helped with the flow of the words, but she really needed to take a break. Maybe if she loosened up a little downstairs, worked out some of the kinks in her neck, the writing would stream a little smoother when she went back to it.
She got up from her desk, stretching her back, making her way downstairs. She’d get a glass of water and see what was going on. She walked into the kitchen to find Tom sitting at the table working on some paperwork. Sophie was mixing something in a bowl.
“I didn’t know you were here, Tom. You should’ve said something. It’s nice to see you.” She walked over to him, put her hand on his shoulder. He looked up from his paper and smiled. She gave him a friendly kiss on the lips.
“Sophie said you were working. I didn’t want to disturb you. How’s it going?”
She leaned back against the counter, massaging her hands against each other. “Really good. Maybe too good. I needed a break. What’s that you’re making, Soph?”
“Ravioli. Pork and three cheese.”
“Mmmm.. are you going to share? Or is this for someone special?” Etta knew Sophie was seeing a new guy and thought maybe she’d invited him for an intimate dinner.
“No, it’s not for him. Just for the house in general, so, yes,” she said, glancing in her brother’s direction, “that means you too.”
“Goody. I love ravioli. You’re doing it from scratch like mom, right?”
“Yup. Only way I know how.”
Etta went to the sink, cleared the dishes from in the sink and started filling it with soapy water. “Well, let me do the clean-up for you. It’s the least I can do to help. Anything else I can do?”
“Nope. That’ll really help. I’ve got some homework to do in a bit, but I was just taking some time to do something mindless while I think of how I’m going to do it,” Sophie said, as she beat two eggs into her stuffing mixture.
“And what are you working on in your head?” Tom asked.
“Oh, I’ve got a math class this term on logic. Was trying to figure out the best way to finish off a proof. I’m really kind of getting the hang of it now. Well, I think so anyway. It takes some deep concentration sometimes. It helps to clear my head.”
“Better you than me, kid. You’re way past my limits now.”
Sophie went to the pantry, pulled out some flour and poured it on her wooden cutting board. “Tom, I was way past you in high school.” She stuck out her tongue at him. “Hockey players aren’t exactly known for their keen intellect.”
Tom abruptly answered back, “Hey, wait a minute. What kind of lame slam is ….”
Etta took her hands from the soapy water and held them up in capital T. “Time out. I’m sure she didn’t mean you specifically. Back to your corners. No blood today.” She looked at Tom, who had only started getting frustrated with his sister. Etta knew Sophie would often lay out the bait for a fight and Tom needed to learn to back away and let things be instead of rising to her level and running with it.
“It’s okay. I can take her barbs. I’m a big man like that. I guess because I love her, I have to.” He flashed Sophie a very fake, cheesy smile.
Etta finished washing the dishes as Sophie and Tom worked in their relative silence, generally just glaring at each other. When she’d emptied the sink and left the dishes to dry, she walked over to him, kissed the top of his head. “You’re two of my favorite people. I hate to see you fight. I’m glad we nipped this one in the bud.” She glanced over Tom’s shoulder to the drawing Tom was working on with a rule, straight-edge and art pencil. “What are you working on? Are you doing a blue-print?”
“Well, I called a cabinet place today and talked to one of their designers. They said if I could make a schematic of the kitchen and dining room the way it is now, they would take it and use it to create a design for a potential remodel. I’m trying to draw the layout of the kitchen, as best I can, the way it is right now, you know, to scale.” Etta pushed him away from the table a bit, so she could sit on his lap. Tom instinctively wrapped one arm around her waist. “So, in a way, I’m trying to replace you and those capable hands of yours,” he took one of her soppy, moist hands in his, “with this new-fangled crazy thing called an automatic dishwasher. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.” He kissed her knuckles.
“Oh, my. Wouldn’t that be nice? Kind of swanky for this old house.” She ran her stray hand through his hair, tenderly pushing a strand away from his face.
“It would be ideal. If I get the plans in place, then maybe this upcoming summer I can work on it. Although, I don’t know.” He ran the hand at Etta’s waist up and down her back, caressing her gently. “I was thinking if we took out this wall here between the kitchen and dining room, we could put in a big peninsula that would be something like the working surface you have with the table now. What do you think?”
“I like it and it makes sense. What do you think, Sophie?”
“Hmm, as long as we have a big surface like this, it would be good. Maybe with some pull-out wooden cutting boards. Or a dishwasher in the peninsula. That’d be cool.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking of. Are you planning on summer school, Soph? I’d need to have everybody out, at least for a while. Life is pretty hard without a kitchen.”
“I don’t know yet. Depends on how things go for the rest of the term. And I have to talk to my advisor. It’s not down in granite yet.” Sophie had dusted the mound of flour with some salt, made a hole in the center for water and eggs and then worked to combine them all into a dough. Her hands flew like lightning, incorporating all of the ingredients, kneading and blending, occasionally throwing in more flour to get the right consistency.
“It’s fascinating to watch you do that, Sophie. How do you know what to do next?” Etta asked.
“The same way you get to Carnegie Hall. Practice, practice, practice. Mom and I do it all the time. There’s a big machine in all of the shops to press the dough out perfectly. Here I do it by hand with this broom handle the way grandma showed me.”
Tom chuckled. “I remember wondering if she was going to use that on me or the ravioli and praying it was for food.”
Etta chuckled. “Which was it?”
“Usually for food, thank God. That woman had a mean streak sometimes, but only for my own good.” Tom sat and pondered deeply for a moment. “I miss her.”
Sophie answered, “Yeah, me too. I was feeling nostalgic so I decided to do this today. Making ravioli reminds me of her and those afternoons when we’d work on this together. I miss her all the time.”
“Awww …. A warm moment between you two. I knew you had it in you.” She lifted her hand to Tom’s jaw and pulled him in for a deep and soulful kiss.
“Ewww … do you two have to do that right here right now? It’s not like I can take this somewhere else,” Sophie said, in mocking disgust.
Etta said, “Actually, can we take this downstairs? You can help me with something, Tom. I have my selfdefense class tonight. I have to take Keith down. I could practice on you downstairs.” She caressed his cheek, tucking another strand of stray hair behind his ear. “If I could take you down, then I surely can take on Keith.”
“Oh, that I’d like to see!” He boasted, his ego at the ready.
Sophie chimed in. “Yeah, me too! Can I? Can I?”
Immediately, both Etta and Tom looked at her and said, “No.” Etta added gently, “I thought you didn’t like the mushy stuff?”
“Oh, I thought it was going to be practicing for your class.”
“Yeah, Soph, and that’s all you’d do.” Etta patted her on the shoulder, as they both made their way to the back hall and the stairway to the basement.
Sophie chuckled. “Okay. You’ve got a point.”
Tom and Etta walked down the open stairway to the basement, which was one open block space, with painted gray walls. In one corner was a washing machine and dryer, with an indoor retractable clothesline that ran from wall to wall. There were bare bulbs hanging overhead in three spots evenly disbursed throughout room. There were many shadows thrown in the corners, but in general, the room was clean and tidy. In another corner there was a toilet open to the entire room and a “shower” which consisted of a pipe coming out from the wall and a floor drain, again, everything open to the entire room. In the center of the room, Tom had hung a heavy bag and on the floor underneath around the bag were plastic padded floor mats spanning out about 10 feet in diameter around the bag.
“Okay, let’s move some of these floor mats over to this side, to get away from the bag,” Tom said. Each of them grabbed two floor mats and moved them into position. “You do really want to try this, don’t you? You weren’t just trying to get me alone?”
“Yes, I really need to do this… well, at least try. Getting you alone is just a bonus. Keith isn’t as tall as you, but he’s nearly as big. He’s not easy to get down. I need practice.” Etta took a deep breath, standing opposite of Tom, shaking out her hands, stretching her neck. “Oh, God, I’m nervous. Can you believe it?”
“Yeah, I do. I don’t think you can take me down, but I’ll let you try.” He smiled at her.
“Oh, you really don’t think I can, do you? I’m more worried that I’ll hurt you. The floor is hard under these mats. I’ll try to be careful,” she said with a wry grin.
“You know, it’s good that you do this self-defense. I wish my sisters would go with you.”
“I’m working on them. You could help me talk them into it.”
“Okay. I’ll have to do that. So, what do I do? Try to grab you?”
“Yeah, that’s the idea. Like you’re attacking me.” Tom came towards her slowly, somewhat tentatively, grabbing at her waist. Etta blocked his arm and shoved against his body, but he easily grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to his body. “Okay. That didn’t work,” she said, shoving a hand against his chest gently. “Let’s try that again. This time do it like you mean it? Like you’re attacking me. You’re being too gentle.”
“Really? I kind of liked where that was heading.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do. But I need to take this seriously. Try it again. I’ll get it.”
“Okay.” Again, Tom came towards her, this time with more of a run towards her. Etta hooked her foot against his advancing leg and knocked it out from under him, careening him backwards, onto his elbows, nearly knocking his head against the floor. “Hey, that’s nasty.”
She stood above him. “That’s the idea. It’s self-defense, not fair-is-fair. The idea is for me to be able to take care of myself and then run away. I got you! I did it!” She jumped up and down a couple of times. “I really didn’t know if I could.”
Tom got to his feet again, sweeping his hair back behind his ears. “Let’s do this again. Now that I know what the object is, I want to make it harder for you.” Again, he flashed her his dazzling smile.
“Okay. I can do it. Give it your best shot, buddy.” Tom went back to his original position, then lunged at her waist. Anticipating his offensive maneuver Etta side-stepped out of his way so that he, again, fell forward on the floor mats, but not before grabbing at her waist and pulling her to floor with him. He then quickly rolled over to where she lay on the ground, trapped her body within his arms, tangling her legs with his.
He was looming over her, his knee pushed up between her legs. He gazed down into her intense blue eyes. “I really like this game. Look where it’s found me, in a very interesting spot.” Etta’s heart pounded in her chest, every fiber of her being wanted this man who so obviously wanted her in return. “What shall I do with you now?” She felt him shift his weight from his hands, to his forearms, trapping her face between his arms, before his mouth plunged down to capture hers with a kiss that was long, deep and slow. She felt heat rise up within her until her mind swirled with longing and need. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the spin.
When he released the kiss, she watched as he bent down to nibble at her earlobe and the side of her neck. She had an incredible sense of power over him, a deep need to surrender all of herself to him, to run her hands all over his body, to give in to the desires he released within her body. “Oh, Tom. What are you doing to me?”
He was licking her earlobe, then took it in his mouth and suckled on it. When she felt him pull away his eyes captured hers. “Think of it like a movie trailer. Highlights of coming attractions.” She felt him shift so his hips and erection pressed into her hips, rocking against her slowly. “Showing you how much I need you, how much I want you.” She felt the warmth of his breath against her neck. “Showing you how much you’ve come to want me.” She closed her eyes and drifted along with the motion between them, amazed at his arousal and the powerful needs he was eliciting her in her body as they swayed with the waves of their movement.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned on a breath. All she could hear was his heart beating against hers, his breathing coming in short gasps in synch with hers. He lifted his hips back off of her again, then looked down at her.
“You can call out to him, but he’s not here between us. Not sure he concerns himself with these things. But I’ll take that as a sign I’m doing something right.” He shifted off of her and pulled her T-shirt up over her breasts, kneading one of her breasts, gently in one hand, while covering her mouth in another slow, gentle kiss. He rose and moved down to her chest. “Second,” he murmured against her skin. He pulled one breast out from beneath her bra cup and gently flicked his thumb against her nipple, lowering to take it in his mouth. A growl of pleasure came from deep within him, as Etta gasped in pleasure and need.
He ran his lips up her neck, back to her mouth to engulf her with his need while one hand caressed her hair. His other hand wandered over the curves of her body, stroking her skin with a feathered lightness. It seemed he was touching her everywhere at once, and she was overwhelmed with desire. She arched her hips up to him. His hand slid down to the waist of her leggings, slipping his hand beneath the fabric, down to her sex, capturing it with the palm of his hand. Etta inhaled sharply as he covered her mouth with his. He pressed his hand down hard as she pushed up against him when a shuddering from deep within possessed her. She rolled her head back as she closed her eyes, clinging to his arms with all the effort she could find as her longings were fulfilled and her release pushed her over the edge. She let out a tremendous moan and trembled in his arms. He held her as her shaking crested and eased, murmuring her name against her neck, kissing her as she climbed her peak and fell back down.
After a few moments, he made a move to roll them side to side so Etta laid on top of his chest, cradling her in his arms. “I’d say that’s enough for now. Don’t you think?” he asked, as he looked in her eyes, drooped with fulfillment and contentment. He caressed his hand gently up and down her back, stroking her long hair as it splayed across his chest. He swept her hair away from her face, and tenderly placed his palm against her cheek. “You are so beautiful, Etta. Thank you for giving me that. It was beautiful. Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m okay,” she said wearily. “Just trying to get the ground beneath me again.”
He lightly chuckled. “Did I go too far? I don’t want to rush you.”
“Ask me in ten minutes. I don’t have brain cells right now.” He chuckled again and shifted her up so her head rested under his chin and wrapped his arms up to hold her tightly to him. They laid together, enjoying the feeling of their bodies against one another. He closed his eyes, thinking of the sweetness of the taste of her on his lips. He could live the rest of his life on that taste alone and the look of rapture on her face. She was really getting to him and driving her way into his heart.
She pulled her head up to look at him. “My darling man. You didn’t go too far. That was wonderful, Tom, just wonderful.”
“Yes, it was. And it’ll only get better.”
“It’s never been like that for me, Tom, never.” She looked up into his eyes. “Thank you. You touch me in ways I ….”
“Shhhh… Let’s just enjoy.” He wanted to savor this moment between them. He held her for a little longer then sat up on the mat, shifting her so she was leaning with her back against his chest, his arms wrapped under her breasts. “You know, I have ideas for down here. Do you want to hear them?”
“Of course I do. What’s in your head, Tom?” She lightly caressed his hands. “What do you see?”
“Well, first we have to finish off that bathroom. I’m going to start there. I’m gonna wrap up the bathroom down here before I start on you and Izzy’s bathroom, so you have somewhere to do your thing. So I was thinking to enclose that shower and toilet, maybe a pedestal sink against that wall between the shower and john.”
“Okay. That makes sense.”
“Well, then we need to enclose the laundry room pretty much the same way. For the rest, well, I know I need to run a trench along at least one side of each wall to make a drainage area for any moisture in that either seeps or condenses in the walls, so that’ll be a ton of work. But then, I thought a giant game room, with maybe an area for a video game or pinball machine over there, then we could put a big TV against this wall, maybe a nice sofa, maybe some beanbags for when you want to play video games.”
“You really do have a vision for it, don’t you? Do you like to do this stuff, Tom?”
“Kind of, yeah. It’s all kind of new. But it’s fun to play contractor, especially when it’s not your money. But I don’t know. It’s up to dad. I don’t know if I could talk him into it. It wouldn’t really pay off, but if it were mine, that’s what I’d do.”
“Have you ever thought of doing the contracting thing for real? I mean, if things don’t work out with what you went to school for?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. You know, until just now, I’ve never really thought of it. I’ll have to muddle that over a while.” They sat in silence for a minute. What if he did go that direction? What if he couldn’t ever get a real job in environmental work? Maybe becoming a contractor wouldn’t be that bad of a life for him. Is that something he could build and literally build with Etta? He could see the long haul with her now. He had a vision with her and he did have visions for this house. He’d get a chance to build experience here. “I’ll have to give that a great deal more thought. Thank you.” He kissed to top of her head. “You’re always full of good ideas.”
“Always glad to be of service.” She grinned. “We gotta keep it square.”
He laughed heartily this time. “Oh, well, then you are seriously in debt now. You know, I went to Houghton yesterday.”
“Why did you go to Houghton? What were you doing there?”
“I applied for a summer internship on Isle Royale. The National Park office for Isle Royale is over there. A buddy of mine who was in the environmental program before I finished told me about an opening, which I guess is somewhat rare, so I figured it was worth applying. I probably won’t hear anything about it. For every opening, there’s thirty or forty people who a