Chapter 1

"I can't believe you had enough time to squeeze your old friend Rhoda into your schedule this week. And on a Tuesday night, no less. You know Thursdays or even Fridays used to be our night, but no. No, not now that Mr. Peter Lawson, Mr. Business Man Extraordinaire has come into our little Mary's life. Now we see each other on Tuesdays. Maybe Mondays if we're lucky."

Mary was grinning to herself as she always did when Rhoda went off on her long-winded tangents. Standing there in the entranceway of her apartment, just grinning to herself in that happy-go-lucky way of hers. And wasn't it something to see her all put together like this? Had she put on fresh lipstick just for their night out together? Was that a new blouse?

"Now Rhoda, that's not it at all. He may be filling up my dance card recently, but I've always got time for you." Mary nudged her before pulling her coat about herself. "We'd better get a move on if we're going to make the movie on time."

"I hope we're taking your car. Mine's been outta sorts lately. Hate for us to get stranded downtown. We'd probably have to call up that Mr. Lawson of yours. Have him come save us." Rhoda sneered a bit at the thought of it, at the thought of him showing up on their one night alone.

And why should she care? Why would she care at all that Mary had a guy and he was nice and kind to her and treated her well. Well enough, anyway. Yet, something about him got under Rhoda's skin, made her squirm. She hated when she'd pop down to Mary's apartment to find him there. To find him taking coffee, to find him lounging on the coach, to find him with his lips pressed up against her downstairs neighbor's lips. That had been a real shocker. To walk in on them that evening. The way they'd shifted away from one another, caught red-handed in some primitive dance atop the couch. The way Mary had blushed a deep red, had kept her eyes glued to the floor while Rhoda had awkwardly excused herself from the situation. Had his hand been where Rhoda thought it had?

She shook the image from her mind. No, there would be no Peter this evening. This evening was Rhoda and Mary and he would be out of the picture. At least for the evening.

"You're certainly bringing up Peter a lot." Mary pointed out as they slid down the back stairway to where her car waited for them in the chilly October air.

"I guess I'm so used to having him around I felt the need to include him." Rhoda shot back, inwardly berating herself for having mentioned him twice already. She should just let it drop, let Mary have her fun.

It was just this fun had stretched on for quite some time. It seemed to be getting serious. They were going on six months. This was a record for Mary. And Rhoda disliked it.

"Are you seeing anyone new?" Mary asked once they were tucked away into her car, headed for downtown Minneapolis.

"What? No, I haven't been seeing anyone." Rhoda rolled her eyes in the dimly lit cab.

"Well why not? You know, Peter and I are getting pretty serious. I'd just hate for you to be all alone." Mary reached out, her hand landing on Rhoda's leg. Resting there for a moment in consolation. Or was that pity? Was Mary pitying Rhoda.

"Ah, knock it off. I can take care of myself, kid." Rhoda, not liking the strange sensation coursing through her, lifted Mary's hand from her person. She patted it and then placed it back on Mary's side of the car.

"It's just…" Mary glanced at her sideways. "You haven't really gone out with anyone recently and I…"

"What? You're worried about me? Oh, please Mare. If I wanted to I could have just about any guy. I'm just…" Rhoda shrugged, searching for an excuse, searching for some reason that made sense. Nothing was making sense recently, but Mary seemed onto her. She needed something… "I guess you could say I'm taking a break from men."

"Oh Rhoda, don't tell me you're thinking about becoming one of those women." Rhoda could just imagine Mary's cheeks burning as she spoke those very unbecoming words.

Those women. Those women. Rhoda's aunt who lived stuffed away with her "friend". She could just hear her mother's voice now. "She's one of those women." Rhoda felt her skin crawling again. "No way." Rhoda hoped her answer was forceful enough, had enough spunk in it. But she knew it had fallen a little flat. "Enough about me already. What's new in happy couple land?"

Mary glanced at her briefly as they sat at a stoplight. Rhoda could see the concern etched in her friend's brow. Luckily for her, however, Mary seemed to let it slide. "Oh, well. Peter's taking me to the symphony on Friday. I haven't been to a concert in years!" She smiled to herself as she spoke.

Rhoda inwardly grimaced. She could just imagine the gorgeous dress Mary would wear on Friday, how handsome Peter would look in a tux and how cultured and glamorous it would be for them to sit through hours of classical music – hands entwined. Yes, they were certainly made for one another. "Sounds fancy." Rhoda leaned her head up against the cool glass pane of the car.

"Oh, Rhoda." Mary sighed, as if lost in thought.

This caught Rhoda's attention, this subtle shift in Mary's demeanor. Something in her voice made Rhoda's ears perk up, alerted her to the fact that perhaps all was not well in dating bliss. "What is it, Mare?" Rhoda sat up a little straighter.

"Oh, nothing." Mary hunched over the steering wheel, tension creeping into her shoulders. "Nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing." Rhoda tried again. "What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing really. I just…" Rhoda could tell Mary's cheeks were coloring a little. "Well it's Peter. You know, I really hate unloading on you."

"Unload on me all you like. You know I'm always here for you, kid." Rhoda nudged Mary on the shoulder, hoping to break the tension that had unexpectedly consumed her.

"It's so silly," Mary laughed under her breath.

"I'm sure it's not."

"Well, it's just that…" Mary pulled into a parking spot near the theatre. She shut off the ignition and sat back in her seat. Laughing to herself she willed herself to go on. "He's very…experienced. And I...well…I'm just not sure I'm ready yet. It doesn't feel…right." Mary's voice had all but diminished. "Well, not just yet anyway."

"Mare, you know you don't have to do that if you don't want to. He's not forcing you or anything?"

"God, no. He's a gentleman. A complete gentleman. I just get the feeling that he's ready for more and," Mary shrugged her shoulders, "I'm not sure."

Rhoda found Mary's hand on the seat between them. "You'll know when you're ready." She squeezed her friend's hand, willing the anguish away from the lovely brunette beside her. All the while her insides twisting in a strange dance of pleasure and concern. For Mary was a man's woman, the perfect housewife, the perfect woman to settle down with, have a family, take to functions. She was all a man could ask for, yet she was suddenly hesitant to be intimate with a man? This was strange. This made Rhoda feel strange. But there was no way that Mary was feeling what Rhoda felt and so, ever the supportive friend, Rhoda released her hand and turned to Mary. "And if he's half the gentleman you say he is, he'll wait for you." Rhoda spoke firmly yet kindly.

"Yes, mother." Mary laughed, the tension easing about her. "Oh, Rhoda. You're such a good friend." Mary's half-grin was infectious. She leaned forward in the car seat, pressing her lips to Rhoda's cheek momentarily. The swell of her perfume so near, the way her lips felt, the warmth of her breath. It shocked Rhoda, made her head spin.

"We'd better get into the movie, kid." Rhoda was halfway out the car door, needing, in that moment, to distance herself as quickly as possible. The rush of the evening air filled her lungs, its coldness chilling her, freezing the raging fire that had suddenly ignited inside of her.

The close proximity of the theatre seats didn't help any as the two sat side-by-side in the dimly lit room. Rhoda could feel the closeness of their bodies, the way in which Mary leaned slightly towards her, crossed her legs in the same pattern as Rhoda so that their legs were always in tandem – facing in towards one another and then out. Rhoda noticed these tiny things, noticed every little shift, every little change in Mary's demeanor as they sat before the big silver screen. If someone had quizzed her afterwards about the movie she would only be able to recall the way in which Mary's hair smelled of a fragrant bouquet of flowers and the feel of her hand as it had clumsily collided with Rhoda's in the bag of popcorn. The little laugh that escaped from Mary's lips, the grin that danced on her lips.

And Rhoda hated the fact that those very lips belonged to Peter.

Her cheeks flushed hot. Thank God one's thoughts were not on display for the whole world to see. For she was quite certain that little miss Mary Richards – golden child extraordinaire – would never deign to lower herself enough to actually partake in the wild thoughts that raced through Rhoda's mind. Rhoda tried to picture it, tried to see how Mary would look if she were to turn in that moment and drape her arm about Mary, press their lips together just like some regular Joe might if he had Rhoda out at a movie.

It was preposterous.

Rhoda slouched down in her seat, as if she could slouch any further, and dug her hand eagerly into the butter-soaked popcorn bag. Kissing Mary was quite out of the question, but eating popcorn was completely acceptable. Handful after handful found its way to her mouth. Mary's perfume swirling about her, making her dizzy.