Alicia Ch. 21

Dear Readers,

This is the last chapter of "Alicia." I hope that you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it and presenting it to you. "Patience's Virtue" and "Alicia" are my two favorite novels. Both strike a chord in me and, I hope, in you as well.

Oldguy 45

*

Kathy and I became good, and occasionally intimate friends after that. I stayed pretty much to myself. She was really my only friend, other than Tom. From time to time, she would look at me wistfully and say, "I wish you could change, Phil. Part of me thinks that we could be happy together." At which point I would tell her gently, that I wasn't interested in a long-term relationship with someone who didn't understand and share my special physical needs. In a way, it was back to business as usual for me. I had lived alone before I met Alicia, and I just fell into my old habits.

Over the next couple of months, Kathy and I were close, but then she met someone, another nurse at the hospital, and ended up moving in with her. We gradually grew apart, and at the end of the summer, she called me to tell me that she and her friend were moving away. I invited them both to dinner to wish them well.

Kathy's friend was Jocelyn, a striking blonde with a voluptuous figure who worked in CCU. I fed them a meal of London broil, twice-baked potatoes, fresh steamed asparagus with cheese sauce, and warm crusty bread. We had an excellent Cabernet with the meal. I noticed that Kathy had only one screwdriver, although I had enough vodka and orange juice for many more. Jocelyn had two glasses of red wine, and then only water.

Kathy looked very good, very happy. She was obviously in love with Jocelyn, and I could see why. The blonde nurse was witty, and funny, and beautiful. She kept squeezing Kathy's hand, and I saw them exchange several hugs. Kathy adored her.

I was happy for Kathy, though a little sad that I was losing my last link with Alicia. Several times, I think Kathy was going to mention Alicia, but she didn't, and I was glad.

They were leaving by ten-thirty. I shook Jocelyn's hand and hugged Kathy hard, wishing her good luck. She hugged me back, just as hard. There were tears in her eyes as she said, "Don't forget to stay in touch, Phil. She would want us to."

"I won't," I said. "You two drive carefully, and good luck."

When I shut the door behind the, I gave a big sigh. I felt as if a door was closing on an important part of my life. I cleaned the kitchen, picked up the house, and went to bed. I was past crying, but I didn't go to sleep for a long time.

* * *

A couple of weekends later, I was at the mall, wandering around. The big apartment was lonely, and I just needed to get out. I was walking along, and had a sudden thought. The clothing store that Twyla worked at was named Slacks n' Things, and it was located at that mall. I decided, on impulse, to go by and say hello. I went to a mall directory sign and found out where it was, then went there.

It was a small store, privately owned, not part of a chain like so many other stores. I walked in and was disappointed that I didn't see Twyla anywhere. Discouraged, I turned to leave, when I heard a voice say, "Can I help you find something?"

I turned around. A tall, slender girl with brown hair and big brown eyes was standing there. "Do you need help finding your size?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "Actually, I was looking for someone. Her name's Twyla, and I thought she worked here."

"Twyla, sure. She still works here. She's in the back. I'll go get her for you." The girl turned and strode away towards the back of the store. She opened a door and called inside to someone, then came back. "She'll be out in minute. Can I help you find something?"

I smiled at her. "No thanks, I don't need anything right now." The brown-haired girl looked disappointed, stuck out her lower lip slightly, and walked off.

A couple of minutes later, Twyla came out from the back. She was wearing a dark-red velvet blouse with a scoop neck and long sleeves. She had on jeans and short black boots. Around her neck she wore a simple gold chain. From her ears dangled two thin golden hoops. Her dark blonde hair was just the same as always: Parted slightly to one side, and cut so that it fell just below her earlobes. Twyla had a unique, bouncy gait that made her hair dance as she walked. I hadn't noticed it before. She smiled when she saw me.

"Hi," she said.

"How are you doing?" I asked. Her smile made me smile.

"I should be asking that of you."

"I'm doing all right at the present."

She had brought out a few shirts on hangers. She began hanging them on the racks, talking over her shoulder to me. "So, how's Kathy?" she asked.

"Kathy's good. She moved away last week."

Twyla stopped what she was doing. She gave a little toss with her head and said, "Oh? Where'd she go?"

"I believe she went to Charleston, South Carolina, with a friend."

She arranged shirts on racks, still not looking at me. "A friend? But I thought you two were, um..."

"Kathy and I were never more than friends. I really liked her, but it wouldn't have worked out."

Twyla stopped what she was doing and looked at me. I said, "What about you and Tom?"

She smiled, a little ruefully. "I don't think I was Tom's cup of tea," she said.

"So, are you, ah, dating anyone right now?" I asked.

"Nobody seriously," she said.

"Well, how about going to dinner with me?"

Twyla looked at me closely. "Tell you what, Phillip. Why don't you cook one of your famous dinners for me? At your house. Tonight."

A little thrill began in the pit of my stomach. "Sure," I said. "What would you like?"

She smiled, nibbling her lower lip prettily. "I would like salmon, grilled or poached, rice pilaf, a green vegetable, and bread. And don't forget wine."

"Yes, ma'am. What time would you like to come over?"

"I get off at five. Why don't I come at six? We'll catch up while you cook. We can listen to some music and talk."

"That sounds good to me," I said. I looked at my watch. "Listen, I have to go to the grocery store to get the food."

"Get a good wine, Phillip, a pinot noir or maybe a pinot grigio. I like good wine."

"I will. I'll see you around six, then."

"I'll be there," she said.

She was there at six, on the dot. She was wearing a mid-thigh length, snug-fitting black slipdress with a v-neck, spaghetti straps, and a scalloped, embroidered hem. She was also wearing sandals that laced, crisscross, halfway up her calves. She had found the time to do her fingernails in bright red, and her lips shone with a recent application of red lipstick.

"Wow," I said. "You look great."

"Thanks," she said. "I wasn't sure, but I thought you might like this. Where can I put this?" she asked, hefting a leather bag the size of a small briefcase.

"That sure is a big purse," I said.

"It's not really a purse, silly. I carry it when I have more than my usual load of stuff to carry."

"Um, you can put it beside the couch. It will be out of the way there." She put the bag at the end of the couch, at the entrance to the hall.

"I don't suppose you have any vodka, do you?" she asked, settling herself on the stool in front of the bar.

"Of course, and some orange juice, as well."

"Good, then I'll have a screwdriver. Mind if I put on some music?" She got up and went over to the stereo. "What do you like?" she asked.

"Oh, anything. Your choice." I was pre-heating the oven and getting my skillet ready for the salmon. I had two beautiful filets, and I wanted them to be perfect. I was going to cook them in butter and a little wine, and dust them with a little dill.

One of my own alternative rock CDs began playing on the stereo. Twyla came back to the bar and sat down. "No country tonight?" I asked, grinning at her.

"Not tonight," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "This is good, Phillip. You make the best screwdrivers."

"Thank you, Milady. I aim to please."

I myself had a glass of wine while I cooked. We made small talk for a while, then Twyla said, "I want you to know that I liked Alicia, even if I didn't know her very well. You two were obviously made for each other."

I tensed for pain, and got a little jolt. But it was not a bad as it had been. I said, "Thanks for saying that, Twyla."

We talked for a while about Kathy. Twyla didn't seem too surprised that Kathy had found someone else. "I knew she wasn't right for you anyway, Phillip."

"Is that right? What makes you say that?"

"I don't know, exactly. Just a feeling. I think that Alicia was perfect for you, but not Kathy."

"Well, you're right. Kathy and I made good friends, but as anything else, we were mismatched."

We had our dinner by candlelight. It was late summer, and the sun was just then going down. We ate in front of the picture window and watched the sky turn orange, then red, then purple as the sun set.

We were finishing up. I held the bottle out for her, but she said, "No, I've had enough wine. I will have coffee, though. What did you get for dessert?"

"I found a delicious-looking cheesecake at the store. I thought we'd have that."

"What, you didn't make it yourself from scratch? I'm disappointed in you, Phillip." She frowned at me mock-seriously. I was relieved; for a moment I had thought she was serious.

"I've never tried to make a cheesecake. But I'll make you one if you want."

"It's a deal. Meanwhile, yes, I'll have a small piece with a cup of coffee."

"How do you take yours?"

"Black, no cream, no sugar."

We finished dessert and sat down on the couch. Twyla put another CD on, this one a little softer rock. We talked about bands we liked, concerts we'd been to, vacations we had taken. It was a good time.

At about eleven, I got up and said, "Look, I'm going to clear away the dishes and straighten up the kitchen. Why don't you relax in here for a while, and listen to some more music?"

"I can leave if you're tired. I've really had a good time," she said.

"No, I don't want you to leave," I said, meaning it. "I just can't stand a dirty kitchen. Just indulge me while I pick up a little. Okay?"

"Okay," she said.

I had been in the kitchen for a few minutes when she appeared at the door. "I'll be in the bathroom for a few minutes, okay?"

"Take your time," I said, loading the dishwasher.

Fifteen minutes later, she hadn't returned. I sat in the living room another five minutes, then decided to see if she needed any help. I walked down the hall to the bathroom, but the door was open, and it was empty. Then, I noticed a faint light underneath the door to my bedroom.

I walked up to the door, knocked quietly, and asked, "Twyla, are you all right?"

From the other side of the door, she answered, "Come in, Phillip. I have something to show you."

I pushed the door open slowly. The first thing I saw was that the room was nearly dark. The lamp beside the bed was the only light on in the room, and it was covered by a sheer, red piece of fabric that cast a muted, crimson glow. I pushed the door open a little more, and saw Twyla standing beside the bed. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light.

She was wearing a very short black dress made of what appeared to be leather. It had a low, scoop neckline and a flounce bottom. She had removed her sandals and put on a pair of black leather calf-high boots.

In her right hand she held a large, wooden hairbrush.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked quietly.

"I like it," I whispered.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes Ma'am. I'm ready."

"Then come over here, drop your pants and underwear, and lean over the chair."

I was trembling with anticipation as I walked over to the chair. I unbuckled my belt, dropped my pants, and pulled down my underwear. Then I grabbed the back of the chair, leaned over, and stuck my butt out. As the first blows from the hairbrush landed, I started smiling. Alicia would be pleased.

The End