4
“Sara, darn it, slow down. What is the matter with you this morning? You know I don’t have the legs of a gazelle, like you do. Mine are more like a Dachshund’s!” Frannie protested as they set off on their jog the next morning.
Sara ran in place a few seconds while Frannie caught up with her. She smiled at the comical sight Frannie made with her abundance of black frizzy hair done up on top of her head. She resembled one of those toy trolls people liked to keep on their desks.
“Nothing’s the matter with me,” she said. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“You’re running as if the hounds of hell are after you,” Frannie told her. Beside Sara now, she peered up into her face. “And you have that ‘don’t mess with me’ glint in your eye. You’re mad at somebody. How many guesses do I get? Oh, wait a minute, I don’t need to guess. It’s Jason, isn’t it?”
Sara picked up her pace again.
Frannie ran harder to keep up. “Okay, okay, I get the message. You don’t want to talk about it. Even though it would help to talk about it. My mother says a friendly ear is worth more than a year on a psychiatrist’s couch.”
“Your mother’s a psychiatrist!”
“Yeah, but she’s an ethical psychiatrist. If she thinks a patient is better served by simply talking to a good friend, she’ll tell them to save their money.”
“That’s ethical, all right,” Sara agreed, laughing. She slowed down. “Okay. Yesterday he came into my office all sweetness and light, talking about how he’s easy and he’s willing to wait for me. He invited me to dinner, with the promise of more afterward.”
“More of what?” Frannie asked, her delicate brows arched in curiosity.
“Do you want to hear this, or not?”
“Just wondered what made you think he was suggesting sex later on? After all, you two haven’t been together in that way since he proposed, right?”
“I really do tell you too much about my personal life.”
“You know I live vicariously through you. So don’t stop the supply now that I’m hopelessly hooked.”
Sara laughed. “I could tell there was the promise of more because of his body language. We were affectionate at the office, very affectionate, almost to the point of having sex on the desk.”
“It has been awhile, huh?”
“Exactly. We hadn’t kissed like that since before the proposal. Of course I would think that he’d decided to give me the benefit of the doubt and resume our physical relationship!”
“I see your point.”
“Thank you!” Sara took a deep breath and continued. “But later that night, after dinner, he got up and made a move on me so similar to his old self just before he used to jump my bones, that I got all hot and bothered. He went to kiss me. I closed my eyes, and what do you suppose happened then? He kissed me on the forehead as if I was his baby daughter whom he was kissing good-night! Then, he said it was getting late and he would walk me to my car.”
“After making like Valentino?”
“Yeah, girl, had me about to pant like a dog.”
“The scum!”
“That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Oh, he’s definitely still mad at you,” was Frannie’s considered opinion.
“I know.”
“You’re doing all you can,” Frannie said sympathetically. “You wouldn’t have accepted your last assignment if you had known he was going to propose. But Elizabeth was already under our protection before he popped the question.”
“Bad timing.”
Frannie nodded her agreement, her frizzy hair bobbing up and down. “You’re making a huge sacrifice for that schlimazel.”
“What does that mean in English again?” Frannie was always tossing out a Yiddish word or two that Sara had to have translated.
“It means someone who’s prone to mistakes or plagued with bad luck.”
“It was all just bad luck when he proposed. I was so ready to say yes, I could taste it. But I couldn’t because Elizabeth needs us.”
“Oh, girl, I do feel for you,” said Frannie. “But, now, lend me your ear because I actually have a problem that I could use your help with.”
“Fire away.”
“Melissa is hinting around about setting me up with her father. The poor kid wants a mother so badly, she’s considering me for the job!”
A pickup truck that they recognized as belonging to Joe Rizzo, a local olive grower, slowed down next to them. “You ladies in those jogging shorts does an old man’s heart good!” Joe yelled.
“Get on to work, you pervert!” Frannie yelled back at him, grinning. Joe meant no harm. He often bought her a beer at the tavern on a Saturday night. Fifty-nine, and a widower the past five years, he was so busy fending off most of the single women of a certain age that he didn’t have the energy for serious flirting. At least that’s what he’d told Frannie.
Joe laughed heartily. “Enjoy your day, ladies.”
“You too!” Sara called.
“Anyway,” Frannie said, continuing the conversation Joe had interrupted. “Yesterday when she dropped by the store after school she asked me if I’d come to her sixteenth birthday party tomorrow night. Fool that I am, I immediately accepted. I like her, and I was flattered that she’d asked me. Then, I remembered that her father is the same creep who used to make your life miserable when you were her age and now I regret that I accepted so fast.”
“I’m all for sisterly solidarity,” Sara told her. “But you don’t have to feel offended by him on my behalf. Jason told me that Erik said he regretted being an ass back then. If you want to go to Melissa’s party, then go. But what makes you think she’s going to try to fix you up with him?”
“She told me to wear something sexy, as if she would know anything about sexy. She wears clothes so big they’re practically falling off her body.”
“That’s the style these days. Plus, since she’s a little heavy she thinks it camouflages her body.”
“I’d love to give her a makeover,” Frannie said. “Do you think she’d be offended if I took her shopping for her birthday?”
“Make it a girls’ day out and I don’t see why. Invite me and Elizabeth along and she won’t feel as if you’re targeting her.”
“Good idea. We can hop over to Santa Rosa before the mall closes tonight. Are you sure you’re free tonight? I’m pretty sure Melissa is. But I wonder if her dad would object?”
“Yeah,
