By Micki L. Bailey

Journal Entry for August 2, 199—
Mid-Afternoon

I phoned Vinnie this morning to find out what happened last night. Of course. And I woke him up. But, jeez, I had to know! Give me a break! It was all I could do to wait as long as I did!

With what he claimed was only a slight hangover, he filled me in on the evening’s events. He said Roger was "pretty shitty company" until he got a little booze in him. And then he improved to only "fair company."

Vinnie also said that when he asked (but not before), Roger told him about the nasty scene in the loft the previous night and about what "a fucking mess" he was in now.

And get this: According to Vinnie, Roger completely denies any interaction with Rhonda whatsoever except business. And get this too: Vinnie believes him!

"God, Vinnie! You’re so………..so like him!" I spit into the phone, trying to stay calm. "You weren’t there! You didn’t see it!"

He did his usual laugh. "You got nothing to worry ‘bout, babe. I’m telling you."

"You shut up. You’re his friend. You’re always on his side," I said.

"I’m your friend too……..….and I want you to go and get a burger with me tonight if you’re still not speaking to your boyfriend," Vinnie said, surprising me.

"Why?" I was caught off-guard, stunned a little.

"’Cause it’s Friday night, and you been moping ‘round your house too long now. How ‘bout it?" He sounded so warm and sincere. And the idea actually struck me as appealing.

"You’re not trying to hit on me, are you, Vinnie?" I asked.

That low chuckle again. "I ain’t as stupid as I may look, darling."

So now I’m waiting for a Friday night that I won’t be spending with Roger but with his best friend instead.

I’ve thought about him all day. Roger, that is. The one I love. He says he’s innocent? Could that be true? And even if it is, what might have happened if I hadn’t shown up at the loft? Does it matter anyway? Should I listen to him? Am I ready for that yet? Will I like the truth I see when I look in his eyes? Or will it destroy me totally? God, help me. This is absolutely the pits.

* * *

Journal Entry for August 4, 199—

Yes, two days have passed. And yes, a lot has changed. Again. Including the color of my sky. So let me spin it all out for you in the proper order. I will, after all, want it recorded for posterity’s sake. Right?

Okay. So I went to the Beer Mug with Vinnie on our Friday night "date" as he had suggested and had burgers and beers. The Beer Mug is a huge, sprawling bar/restaurant that our "gang" frequents when Stooges is too crowded or something. We sat at a high table along the front window and saw no one we recognized.

I have to admit that it felt a little weird being alone in a social setting with Vinnie. He’s Roger’s very good friend from waaaaay back, but I’ve gotten very close to him too. I find it easy to talk to him about pretty much anything because he’s so warm and sensitive.

I, of course, couldn’t help wondering what Roger was doing on this Friday night. But I resisted asking Vinnie point blank, and he didn’t volunteer the information either. I actually tried not discussing Roger at all. But as you can probably guess, that didn’t turn out so well. Vinnie was kind and tolerant, though, and allowed me to ramble on as much as I wanted about whatever I chose. It was soothing and restorative for me. I found myself feeling lighter and not so sad.

We were both loosened up and having a nice relaxed time when his silent pager interrupted. And when he looked back up at me after glancing down to see the number, I knew immediately who had paged him. He almost grinned, but then caught himself.

"So should I call him or not?" he asked me.

I remember shrugging involuntarily. "What do I care? Call him if you want." I tried to sound unaffected.

Vinnie laughed as if on cue. "Aw, c’mon now. You know what he wants. What do you want me to tell him?"

Then light began flickering on in my brain, illuminating the situation around me. Maybe I’m getting better at reading the signals. So I set my mug down on the wooden table and peered over at him. "You set me up, Vinnie? Roger knows I’m here with you?" I asked him.

"He knows you’re somewhere with me. But I won’t call him back if you don’t want," he answered.

I couldn’t decided if I was pissed off or not. I was tired of feeling everything I’d been feeling lately. This, however, was a shove I wasn’t expecting. I said, "But you did set me up, right? You’re supposed to talk me into seeing him, aren’t you?"

Vinnie smiled the smile he’d suppressed just moments before. "Have I even tried bugging you ‘bout it? It’s up to you, babe. I’m just making the opportunity available," he said.

I looked out into the crowded room and sighed. "Why are you doing this for him, Vinnie?"

He sat back in his chair and watched me. "I ain’t doing this for him……….Do you realize he’s all you been talking ‘bout all night?………..I’m doing it for you……..to make you happy."

I felt tears in my eyes then and had to look down. It was a kind of breaking point for me, an emotional peak I’d been building up to for days. Or maybe a deep pit that I’d reached the bottom of, and there was no further down to go.

Vinnie gave me a moment and then stood up. "I’m gonna go call him. I’ll be right back," he told me.

I managed to stop the waterworks and recompose myself while he was gone. When he returned, he said calmly that Roger would be over soon. And I resolved myself to that. Time to face the music, I guess.

Vinnie and I made small talk then, and he assured me that it was still my choice, that he’d take me home right then if I wanted. But I chose to stay. Strangely enough, I wanted to see Roger. At least from a distance. I’d work on the next step after that one. So when Vinnie looked behind me and said, "He’s at the bar," it was all I could do to not turn around for a glimpse.

Okay, so I had decided to talk to him. Or listen to him. Whatever. I could not longer see a point in holding out. What the hell was I waiting for? How much freaking time did I intend to waste? Wasn’t it high time I started acting my age? So I told Vinnie I was ready. For the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral.

"You sure?" he asked. When I affirmed that I was positively sure, he said, "Okay. I’m gonna sit at the bar for a little while and watch you two and make sure you don’t throw something at him. If it looks cool from where I’m sitting, I’m leaving you here with him. But if you need me, page me. Deal?"

"Yes, Vinnie. I swear. Thanks a million. Now get on with your real Friday night," I told him.

He stood up. "Hey, uh……….if you don’t work it out with Roger………you think you and I could—"

"Get out of here, Vinnie!" Laughing, I cut him off. He was deliberately stalling. Deliberately being a pain in the ass. He laughed too and walked away. That’s when my heart rate doubled with apprehension. My palms turned sweaty, and I knew I was ultra fidgety.

Then, appropriate moments later, my table was silently flanked by an outrageously striking knight-like figure cloaked only in black and staring at me with eyes that saw deep into my center. Ah, my prize. And he was still stunning, wearing a tight, black T-shirt and black, well-fitting jeans.

I caught a little gasp in my throat and couldn’t say a damn thing. After running my mouth all evening, I was speechless in his presence now. But he must have anticipated that, and he was ready. Very quietly, he said, "Can I sit down?"

I guess I found myself then. I sat up straight and answered, "Oh, sure. Sit down." God, I’m so very eloquent.

He had brought over a Beck’s beer and now put it on the table as he sat down across from me. I watched him and noticed that he looked as sleep-deprived as I was, but he was still beautiful. IMHO.

"Thanks for the roses," I said and then thought about how ridiculous that must have sounded.

But he didn’t smirk or anything. He just half-smiled at me over the table and said rather quickly, "Nothing was going on Wednesday night in the loft when you came in……….And nothing has ever been going on with Rhonda."

Despite my renowned eloquence, I couldn’t form a response right away. I only looked at him and tried to decide what to say in return. So he continued. "Now that I finally have your audience, I’m getting straight to the point………..I know what it must have looked like to you, and I’m sorry as hell ‘bout that…………..But it wasn’t anything at all, and you were an innocent victim………..You gotta believe me, sweetheart."

Another confession here for me: I melted. Or at least thawed rapidly. Watching him say those apologetic, please-let-me-back-in lines was a little much for me. This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to see him until now.

It was my turn to speak. "But she was making herself at home in the loft, Roger. And I was the odd man out."

He pursed his lips and sucked in his cheeks. "No, baby……….She was using the facilities…….nothing else. I was making coffee. After coffee, she was calling a cab. That was the game plan……..nothing else. How can I convince you?" Ah, that low, sultry, musical voice.

I did my infamous sarcastic snort. "And then you were rushing right over to my place, huh?"

"Yeah," he answered. And I believed him.

Was he brainwashing me? Hypnotizing me? Or just telling the truth? I decided right then to vote for the latter.

"Roger……..I know this will sound childish and unrealistic and all…….but…….well……..I don’t do so good at sharing my toys……..you know…….what’s mine." More majestic brilliance from my mouth.

He smiled. "I know, sweets……..But you ain’t being asked to share me………I’m still over here in the proverbial sandbox waiting to be played with ……..only by you."

God, was I weak? Or just finally seeing the light? For whatever reason, I gave in. Or gave up. "Are you still doing business with her?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrows slightly and quickly. "It’s done. It was a simple searching thing. I did it yesterday. And that’s all I did for her……..She’s gone back to Chicago…………. Honest."

I was satisfied. "Okay."

He brightened. "Okay? You trust me?"

Maybe I smiled. I don’t remember. I do remember saying, "Yeah, I trust you……..Can we just forget about this whole thing?"

"Done. It’s forgotten," he said as he watched me intently.

Then there was a tiny silence before I said, "So……..what now?"

"Now let’s get out of this dump, baby," was his response. A response that thrilled me. I know I smiled then. And I felt my insides ignite when he wrapped his arm around me as we walked out together.

Needless to say, Vinnie was no longer hanging around the bar when we left. Oh, how wonderful it feels to write "we" and "together" again.

And how wonderful the rest of that night was. The joys and bliss of rediscovering each other after a separation. Jeez, how fiery, passionate, and seemingly endless that was. More memories for future use. Maybe I’ll detail them for you later. We’ll see. My time for journal entries is more limited now, if you know what I mean. No more eclipses to rave on about anyway.

It’s Sunday now, and Roger’s off to the baseball game with Sonny. I’ve had a little time to catch my breath and catch you up on current events. But God, I can’t wait to see him again.