"There's no reservation. Please sit down, Crissy."
I dropped the dresses. I sat down on the edge of the bed.
"No reservation?"
"Please understand, darling. I can't be seen with you in that restaurant. I'm still in school. If the other blokes found out about it, I'd never live it down. I'm sorry."
My eyes started to fill with tears, but I wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction. I turned away.
"It will be different," he said, "once you've had the operation."
"What operation? Oh, not you too! Why does the whole bally world want me to---"
I stood up.
"Get out!" I exclaimed. "Just get out! You tear my dress off, you ravage me, you tear my tights, and now you're ashamed to even be seen with me! Shame on you for treating a woman that way! Get out!"
He stood and said, "I'm sorry."
"Just go."
He left, and I immediately regretted what I'd blurted out. I almost called out for him to come back, but the words caught in my throat. I went and looked at myself in the mirror.
So what if he wanted to keep this thing private? So what if he wanted to keep his other girlfriend? So what if I was the other woman? At least I was a woman. Why couldn't I be patient with him? After all, I hadn't even wanted to kiss him at all, at first. He had been patient with me, hadn't he? Why shouldn't I be patient and understanding with him? Eventually he'd see that he was being silly. Of course we could go out on a date together. Of course we could.
I heard him down below. I looked out into the backyard. He was right there, looking up at my bedroom window. He seemed just physically unable to leave.
"Oh, you're not over me, Joey. You'll never be over me."
I picked up my white dress and slipped it on. I put on the matching hat that went with it. Then I went downstairs to see my lover.
I met him on the back porch. He approached tentatively.
"Hello," he said. "I see you went with the white dress."
"I did, yes. Do you like it, darling? Tell me the truth."
"Truthfully, I wish you'd worn that sexy fuchsia lace dress."
"Honey, don't you know by now, when a woman asks you to tell her the truth, that means lie like you've never lied before."
"Sorry, it just doesn't do anything for me."
"It's OK. I won't be wearing it much longer, anyway."
He grabbed me and kissed me, forcing my back against the glass door. I reached out for the door handle, before he pushed me right through the glass.
"My dresses have zippers, you know. You don't have to rip them apart to get at me."
As he was kissing me, he reached behind my back and unzipped me.
"What are we going to do about dinner? Aren't you hungry?"
"Only for you, darling," he said.
We never made it to the bedroom, that time.
THE END