Becca (4 page)

“Yeah, your jeans pretty
much took care of that. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Oh, that’s right. I
recall you said legs are legs.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’re not staring at
anything?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I should tell you that
Greg doesn’t like guys staring at me.”

“Who’s Greg?”

“My boyfriend…the guy
who’s emptying his bladder in your bathroom.”

“He’s your boyfriend?”

Now she looked at him. “Why
did you say that that way?”

“What way?”

“Like you were surprised
that he was my boyfriend.”

“Maybe I’m surprised that
you
have
a boyfriend at all.”

She smiled. “Now you’re
joking. Why wouldn’t I have a boyfriend? I mean look at me.”

“May I without being
accused of ogling?”

She giggled. “Ah…you are
something else. Anyway, I tell Greg he should get used to guys staring at me since
it happens all of the time. It’s because I’m so damn beautiful.” When Bert
smiled at that remark, the girl said, “You have a nice smile.”

“My mother says that”

She smiled, her green
eyes shining. “I bet a lot of people say it.”

“Nope. Just her.”

“Is that because you
don’t smile around other people?”

Bert shrugged. “Maybe
nobody says anything funny enough to make me smile.”

“But I did? I should feel
privileged.”

“Yes.”

“For your information,
I’m going to try out for the cheerleading squad in college.”

“Really?”

“You’re surprised?”

“Well…it’s just that you
changed the subject without warning. Anyway, I don’t see you as the type who
would shake her pom-poms.”

The girl giggled at that
and waved a finger at him. “You would love to see me shake my pom-poms.”

“Rah rah shish boom bah.”

“Go team go. So what do you
think of him?” Becca asked, nodding at the building. “Greg. Are we a match?”

“Blond hair and blue
eyes—what more can a girl ask for.”

“Yes, I thought so, too.
He goes well with me. But do I go well with him?”

“Like salt and pepper?
Like apple pie and ice cream?”

“Come on, serious.”

“How can I answer that? I
don’t know you.”

“You don’t have to know
me to answer. Do I
look
good with him?”

“Well you’ve got
freckles, green eyes and what is that—some kind of red hair?”

“
What is that?
My
God, how can you refer to my
hair
as
that?
It’s like you’re
commenting on something sitting on top of my head.”

“Well, it
is
sitting
on top of your head.”

“No, silly, I mean it’s
like you were referring to some
thing
sitting on top of my head, not
about my hair. And for your information that’s a very improper phrase to
describe my hair. Some kind of red hair—that’s insulting. Please stop. I have strawberry
blonde hair.” She sighed. “Now, do I or don’t I?”

“Do you or don’t you
what?”

“Oh…my…
God.
You
drive me crazy.”

“I insult you. I drive
you crazy. I have no earthly idea why you came in here—which is something you
weren’t going to do, by the way. You said that.”

“I was forced to. He had
to go bad.”

“There are other gas
stations.”

“Yes, but I remembered
you had a clean restroom. Trust me, if it wasn’t for your restroom I would have
driven on by.”

“You could have gone to
the restaurant right there.”

“Naw, they want you to
buy something to use the restroom.”

“Well I require a
purchase here also.”

“I didn’t know that. But
it won’t happen again so it doesn’t matter.”

“Good, because I waste a
lot of time standing around talking to you. After all I’m working here.”

“Oh, is there a line? I
mean, you’ve just got cars all
over
the place here waiting for your
attention, don’t you?”

“Smart ass.”

“Another insult, I’m
going to have Greg kick your butt when he gets back here.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t feel
like getting my butt kicked. I have to finish my shift, and there may be a car
or two that will come in here and if I’m all bloody or broken, I may have to
turn them away.”

“You’re funny. Hey, and
didn’t I tell you not to come into the A and P when I worked there? Why should
I believe anything you tell me?”

“You told me you’d never
come back here, and yet here you are. I could say the same thing.”

The girl shook her head
and looked at the building. “I’m getting confused. Anyway, where was I? Oh,
yeah, you didn’t answer my question—I mean you started to but you went off on a
tangent. So tell me—no playing around. Do I or don’t I go with him? I mean—so you
completely
understand my meaning, do we make a good couple?”

“You and him? You and
Greg?”

She groaned. “Oh my
God
who
else
would I be talking about? Come on, answer me.”

“Does it matter what I
think?”

“Yeah. I don’t know you,
so I figure you’d give me a straight answer.”

“Okay. No.”

The playfulness on her
face disappeared. “Really?”

“Cross my heart.”

“Why not?”

“There’s pepper and no
salt; ice cream but no apple pie.”

“Hmmm.” She acted as
though she was trying to solve a difficult problem. “Oh, here he comes.” Then
she reached over and started the car, leaned out her window and motioned for
Bert to bend down. “My dad was in here the other day,” she said.

“Yes.”

“
Thank
you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Hey, hey, what’s going
on here?” Greg demanded.

Bert straightened up.
“Nothing.”

“Oh my God, Greg.” The
girl stuck her arms out straight, wrists together. “Busted. Take me to jail.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Getting busted and going
to jail is not funny, you’re right.”

“Cut it out. What were
you talking about?”

“Well, Greg, if you must
know, we were planning our elopement.”

“Okay, enough. That’s not
funny.”

“Greg, getting married is
not
funny. It’s very serious.”

“Stop it.”

“You can’t stop love once
it has taken over your heart and soul.” She was grinning from ear to ear. “Honey,
tell him what our plans are.” Her hand snaked out of the car and her fingers
touched Bert’s wrist.

Bert wished the girl
would
stop. It was obvious her boyfriend did not enjoy her sense of humor—probably
because he had none of his own. “I think,” he said to her, without taking his
eyes off Greg, “that you need to stop.”

“Who are you to tell her
what to do?” Greg demanded.

The girl snatched her
hand away. “Oh, Greg, geeze oh man, I’m just messin’ with you.”

“I don’t like it.” He
didn’t move.

“Greg, are you going to
get in the car so we can go to the movies, or are you going to kick his ass?
Make up your mind. Greg glanced at her had grown, mostly due to her teasing. “Okay,
here’s what I’ll do. You stay here and do whatever, and I’ll go to the movies
and when it’s over, I’ll come back and pick you up.”

Greg huffed and pulled
open the door and climbed behind the wheel. Becca took the moment to favor Bert
with an apologetic look as Greg put the car in gear.

“You can be such a creep,
Greg,” Becca said as they pulled out of the station.

“Me? What’s with you? I
come out of the damn bathroom and he’s practically in the car. What were you
guys talking about?”

“The car. He was asking
about the car.”

“Like he’d ever own one
of these.”

“You know, you have a
problem.”

“I have a problem? What
is it?”

“Never mind. I don’t want
to argue. I want to enjoy the movie.”

“No, tell me what my
problem is.”

“Well, you have a
superiority complex for one.”

He smirked. “It’s easy to
around guys like him.”

“Guys like him? What’s
that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t know, Greg.
But let’s…never mind, okay?”

“You can be a real smart
ass sometimes,” Greg said.

She chuckled. “He said
the same thing.”

“The guy at the gas
station? What the hell did he call you that for?”

“Because, I
was
being a smart ass.”

VI

After the movie, they
stopped in at the Varsity House, their usual Saturday night haunt.

“He seemed to know you,”
Greg said as they sat at a table while the band took a break. “That guy—what
was his name? At the gas station.”

“I don’t know him.” She
had not told Greg about her first encounter with Bertram-Josh. “How could he
know me?”

“That’s what I want to
know. Are you sure you’ve never talked to him before?”

“What do you mean am I
sure? Don’t you think I’d
know
if I’ve talked to somebody before?”

“Unless you didn’t want
to tell me.”

“Greg,” she leveled her
green eyes on him and he sat back in his seat as if her voice had propelled him
there. “What are you saying?”

“You know…he’s… Don’t
give me that look, Becky.” He shrugged. “I just got the impression that you
guys knew each other or something.”

“And what if we
did
know each other?”

He leaned forward again
and gave her a look from which she shrank. “So you
know
him or not?”

“Okay, Greg, he and I
have made mad passionate love. He’s got this—I don’t know—this amazing
technique—”

“Cut it out.”

She laughed and patted
Greg’s shoulder. “Oh my God, Greg, you are so gullible. I’m joking. Really, I
don’t know the guy and I don’t think I’m his type.”

Greg looked down at the
table.

“Oh? What’s that supposed
to mean?”

“You know…”

“Yes, I
do
and
shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well stop
thinking
of
what you didn’t say.”

She thought of what
Bertram—no
Josh,
he liked to be called Josh—had said and studied Greg a
moment as he watched the band preparing for another set. Greg was a year older
than her, going to Pitt and majoring in business. He was a nice guy; gentle,
relaxed, had the body of an Adonis, but played no sports instead spent a lot of
time in gym weightlifting. They had known each other since seventh grade but
had only started dating a year ago—and only at the insistence of their parents.
Although they had made no commitment to each other, neither dated anyone else. Girls
flirted shamelessly, but he dismissed them politely. Her friends prodded Becca
about the intimate details of their sex life, but she said nothing. Not because
of shyness, or that she felt it was none of their business, the truth was there
was
no sex life. Greg, as fond as he was of her, and as much as he
cuddled and kissed, and touched her had never attempted anything sexually. There
was, in fact, vey little intimacy in their relationship. Perhaps he feared her
father’s wrath; perhaps because of her past, he didn’t want to be intimate. Whatever
the reason, Greg never showed any signs that he to take the relationship to the
next level.

Becca missed intimacy in
her life—but she knew Greg was not the person to fill the void, and she wasn’t
sure that was the direction she wanted to go right now anyway. She stayed with
him because she genuinely liked him, yes, but the simple fact was she didn’t
want to be alone. Greg provided her
someone
in her life. And she needed
someone now to keep her from dwelling on the past. By concentrating on Greg and
their relationship, she could mask the pain she felt.

Everything was moving
along fine until she met Josh. Her world had shifted a little out of focus and
she knew that Greg would not be able to shield her from the emotions that Josh
had stirred.

“What’s wrong with you,
Becky?” Greg asked. “You’re staring at me. “You have been acting really weird for
a week or so now.”

“You sound like my father...”
She shook her head and said quickly, “It’s school. I have this cramp in my leg
and cheerleading tryouts are next semester, and I’m nervous about it.” Leaning
into him, she felt his arm go around her. His fingertips brushed the front of
her blouse innocently. She felt a quick rush from that, but Greg meant nothing
by his touch so she did now dwell on the sensation.