Chapter 3
"Come in Rhoda!" Mary called from inside the apartment.
Rhoda's heart leapt in her chest, her hands shaky as she turned the knob on the door. She felt in a state of disarray, worn out from her restless night. Would Mary notice that she had bags beneath her eyes? That her eyes themselves were tinted the slightest shade of red from the childish tears?
"Hey, kid." Rhoda steadied herself against the door, Mary's floral perfume swirling about her, the smell of early autumn sweeping in through Mary's balcony door. And there was the woman herself at her mirror, sweeping a mascara wand against her eyelashes.
How it always felt so different to be in Mary's presence, to be so near her. Rhoda hoped and prayed that her crippling crush was not evident. She moved quickly then to the couch, collapsing into its familiar embrace. She pulled a pillow over her stomach, as if she needed shielding from this woman.
"You certainly got home late." Rhoda mused, having not intended on saying anything, but it seemed to just slip out.
Mary paused before answering. "Oh, Rhoda." She sighed, settling the mascara wand into the top drawer of her dresser. She turned to Rhoda, her cheeks rosy, eyes sparkly and clear. But a little hint of worry curled at her lips, tugged her brow downwards.
"What is it, Mare? What happened?" Rhoda sat forward, bracing herself for whatever Mary was about to tell her. She had prepared, mentally prepared herself for anything that Mary might tell her. They were adults, she and Peter were serious, it was only natural that they should…that they would…that she would…
"Well," Mary moved down the stairs to take the seat near the couch. She slid demurely into its recesses. "It just…it seemed right. Last night seemed right."
Rhoda hesitated, uncertain as to whether she should be happy for Mary or concerned. "And…"
"Well he was a real gentleman about it all. We went back to his place for drinks after the concert and it just felt nice. Comfortable. And one thing led to the next…and he was so kind." Mary's gaze wondered off, lost in the memory of it all.
"Uh, you don't have to give me all the details, kid. I got a pretty good picture of it." Rhoda brushed a finger over her forehead feeling little sweat beads forming there. She could picture it all too vividly. Peter in his swanky apartment, preparing Mary a drink, settling on the couch beside her, reaching out to caress her ever so gently, so kindly, and Mary – Mary who never seemed capable of denying anyone, even when she wanted to – would have allowed it, would have let him lean over and press their lips together. And of course he would have wanted to get her out of that gorgeous sequined dress, to reveal what was beneath its sleek material. Rhoda swallowed. Hard. "I need some coffee; do you want some coffee?" Rhoda got up, needing something to do with her hands, something that took her away from Mary.
"I'm about to go out. Peter wants to take me to the museum, some special exhibit or other." Mary responded. Rhoda could feel her watching as she made her way to the kitchen.
"He's a real stand-up guy, this Peter. Taking you to museums and symphonies. When's he going to propose?" Rhoda shot back as she turned up the boiler on the stove and went through Mary's cabinet for the coffee as if she lived there. As if she owned the place.
Mary didn't respond.
Rhoda glanced up from her coffee preparations to find that Mary had made her way to the bar and was watching her.
"What?" Rhoda stood looking down at Mary, recognizing some distant, distracted look in her eyes. Mary was lost in her thoughts.
"It's just…last night." Mary was hung up on last night.
"Well certainly you've done it before." Rhoda placed her hands on the counter, waiting for the water to boil.
"Of course I have. A few times with Bill. I mean, I thought we would be married and he…he really liked it."
"Didn't you like it?" Rhoda swallowed. Her cheeks felt warm. She turned to take the water off the stove.
Mary shrugged. "It was fine, I suppose. I didn't dislike it."
"Peter wasn't any good?" Rhoda pried, somehow wishing and hoping that he'd been lousy.
"Oh, he was wonderful. Very attentive, I just…" Mary sat down in her barstool. "Well, I should have enjoyed it, shouldn't I have?"
"In my experience, it takes time to enjoy it. It was the first time, Mare." Rhoda hoped that that answer would suffice, would make it sound like she was her usual friend-self. That she was rooting for Mary. And it was the truth. The first time she'd slept with a guy she'd hated it. The next time hadn't been so bad. And the third time had been pretty good. She was sure it could only get better.
"Oh Rhoda," Mary's hand found Rhoda's against the counter and covered it. "You're probably right."
They both heard the knock on the door. Mary jumped a little in her seat, her hand retracted away from Rhoda's person. She stood then, moving across the room to open the door. Peter swept in, wrapping her up in his arms and pulling their bodies impossibly close. His lips fell to hers. Rhoda looked on, unable to take her eyes away. She watched as Mary's body went rigid in his embrace, watched as she pushed out of his embrace. "Rhoda's here." She whispered, but Rhoda could hear.
"Oh," Peter's head shot up and his eyes met Rhoda as she made her way out of the kitchen with coffee cup in hand. "Hello there, Rhoda." He nodded politely in her direction, arms still wrapped firmly about her friend.
"Hey there." Rhoda nodded.
"Well, we'd better be off. I made us a lunch reservation." Peter announced to the room, as if Rhoda's presence warranted them to depart as soon as possible.
"Sure, I'll clean up the kitchen and lock up, Mare." Rhoda smiled to her friend who looked so Goddamn uncomfortable all of the sudden. Rhoda didn't like that.
"Thanks, Rhoda. I'll see you later." Mary moved from Peter's embrace to grab her coat. He helped her into it and soon the two were gone.
Rhoda was all alone in the apartment and it felt lonely. Almost lonelier to be in Mary's apartment than to be alone in her own. She settled down onto the couch, wallowing in her cup of coffee.
"Hey, uh, Rhoda?" Mary's voice on the other end of the phone made her heart leap in her chest.
"Hey, kid." Rhoda was taken aback that she had called, glancing at the clock. It was a Friday at 7:30 in the evening. Wouldn't Mary have plans with Peter? Surely she was booked up for the whole of the weekend, Peter would want to whisk her away for some fantastical excursion.
"Do you want to grab dinner? Maybe we could catch that new movie." Mary sounded enthusiastic about the plans.
"Mary," Rhoda itched for the chance to do just what Mary had suggested, but she held back her enthusiasm. "Is everything alright?"
"What do you mean?" Mary asked breezily.
"I mean, Mare, you haven't gone out with Peter all week. Sure I like our girl's nights in or our girl's nights out, but what if I had a date tonight?"
"Well, do you?" Mary sounded surprised, as if she hadn't considered this option.
Rhoda examined her fingernails. "No. But that's not the point. What's happened with Peter?"
Mary was quiet on the other end of the line, "couldn't we talk over dinner?"
"I'm changing clothes and then I'll be down in a minute." Rhoda hung up the phone, realizing that she had already changed into her leisure-wear, having not considered the fact that Mary might be free that evening. She hadn't wanted to push her luck having seen Mary every night that week. She'd thought it odd that Mary called her Monday, then Tuesday, then Wednesday, then Thursday, and now Friday. She'd assumed Peter busy the first few evenings but now…now it was date night and Mary was calling her again.
She was to Mary's within moments, searching for any sign of distress but only finding Mary looking as put together as normal. She smiled at Rhoda as she opened her door.
"Let me just grab my coat and we'll be on our way."
"You better start talking. What happened to Peter? You were practically Mrs. Peter Lawson." Mary Lawson. It sounded just about right.
Mary Morgenstern.
It didn't have the same ring, the same sharpness that Lawson added. Rhoda Richards didn't seem spectacular either.
"Rhoda," Mary sounded a bit annoyed, "I just…haven't wanted to see him."
"Was it because –"
"Rhoda, no. Of course not." Mary huffed, glancing behind Rhoda, out into the hallway as if Phyllis might be lurking around the corner waiting to catch some juicy gossip.
"Then what happened?" Rhoda was concerned now.
"Let's go to dinner, shall we?" Mary practically dragged her out of the house and to their usual diner. Mary ordered for the both of them, assuming that Rhoda would want the steak sandwich.
"You're avoiding talking about it." Rhoda fiddled with the paper from her straw.
"I'm not avoiding talking about it," Mary sighed, as if mimicking Rhoda's words might buy her some time.
Rhoda held her gaze, waiting, patiently, for Mary to spill. Her gaze was usually enough to make Mary squirm, to get her to crack open. So she just stared on, waiting for Mary to get out with it.
"Okay," Mary held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, so maybe it was because we… And ever since then he's wanted a little more and a little more and it was a little exhausting. So last weekend I told him I needed a little break. He said he'd wait, but I'm just not sure I want him to."
"So here we are." Rhoda dropped the crumpled straw wrapper, wondering why Mary couldn't have told her this last weekend. Had Mary just been using her all this week to make herself feel better? Fill a void?
"Yes, here we are." Mary nodded. "In a way, I feel better. I've missed our time together."
Rhoda felt her stomach twist. Their dinner was delivered to the table and she could only seem to stare at it, appetite gone. "But you might go back to him." It was more a statement than a question.
Mary shrugged, tearing into her salad as if she hadn't eaten for days. But Rhoda had seen her eat. Something was off. Was she upset or not about Peter? Rhoda could barely keep up.
"I'm not so sure." Mary dabbed at her lips with her napkin. "Oh, Rhoda. I'm not sure about anything anymore. First Bill doesn't want to marry me and I'm sad and now Peter wants to marry me and I'm sad. What's so wrong with me?"
"Did he – did he ask you to marry him?" Rhoda swallowed, uneasiness settling somewhere deep.
"Well not in so many words, but it's certainly been implied." Mary shrugged.
Rhoda placed her hand lightly on Mary's arm. "Hey kid, nothing's wrong with you. If it doesn't feel right, it doesn't feel right." She held her hands up, meeting Mary's eyes, giving her a reassuring smile.
A slow smile crept over Mary's lips. "You're right."
"You deserve the world, Mare. You really do. You better hold out for that." Rhoda patted her arm and then retracted her hand, feeling as if she'd crossed their personal space barrier for long enough.
Mary's lips twitched and she turned to look at Rhoda again. "That was really kind of you to say. You deserve the same, you know that, Rhoda?"
"Sure, sure." Rhoda shrugged and picked up the steak sandwich, hunger washing over her.
They were okay, the two of them were just fine.
