Dale's Women Ch. 03

Dale was smart enough not to press his luck, and he agreed with an all but imperceptible nod of his head. He showered quickly and, although he had a new pair of underwear to put on, he had no third set of clothes to wear; so he put on his suit from Friday and stuffed the clothes he'd worn yesterday in his satchel.

Gloria drove him to the station. She parked the car, both got out: he to buy a ticket, and she to make sure he wasn't left stranded. The trains didn't run frequently on Sunday, but a train back to Greenwich would surely come in due course of time.

As they were waiting for it on the platform, Dale did venture a query.

"So what happens now?"

Gloria looked at him with keen appraisal. "I'm not sure," she said.

"Surely this isn't going to be the end?" he almost whined.

She sighed and said, "No, I suppose not."

"You do want to pursue things, don't you?"

"In all frankness, I'm not sure that I do. But we've had a very nice time, and it would be cruel if I were just to cast you away."

"When?"

She was confused. "When what?"

"When can I see you again?"

"How about next weekend?"

"Omigod!" he cried. "That's such a long time!"

"Oh, Dale, it's only five or six days."

"That's too long!"

She frowned at him in dispproval. "Dale . . ."

"How about Tuesday?" he suggested almost frantically.

"I have to work on Tuesday."

"I know that," he said impatiently. "I meant Tuesday evening."

"Meaning you'd spend the night?"

"Well, yes, I was hoping to. But I can leave early in the morning, when you do."

She gazed at him a long time before saying, "All right. Tuesday it is."

"That's wonderful!" He really does sound like a little boy.

"I may not be able to get home until around six-thirty, so you'd best not come by until seven."

"Okay."

"You do have your own transportation, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Fine." She fished out a business card from her purse. "Here's my address, in case you haven't jotted it down. I'm sure you can find it from Greenwich."

Dale quietly put the card away into his pocket, as if it were a treasure of incalculable value.

"Can we go out to dinner somewhere?" he said. "My treat!" he added enthusiastically.

She gave him that cynical smile out of the corner of her mouth. "I'll cook you something."

"You don't have to do that!" he protested. "I'd really like to take you out."

"That's all right. I prefer to stay at home and cook." And I'm still not sure I want to be seen in public with you.

"Okay," Dale said, admitting defeat. Without warning, he wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her so tightly that she found it hard to breathe. After some moments she pried herself out of his grasp, saying, "Dale, let go, please. Your train is coming."

And it was. They could both see it churning along the tracks.

"Gloria . . ." Dale began, an incredibly earnest look on his face.

She had a foreboding of what he was going to say—and she really, really didn't want him to say it. She quickly placed a hand over his mouth and said, "No, Dale. Don't say it. Not now. Please."

He gently pried her hand away. "I want to say it . . ."

"Maybe, but it's best if you didn't."

"But I feel it, whether I say it or not."

"Granted, but if you say it, it's out there and we have to deal with it. I'd prefer not to right now."

Dale tried to give her an angry scowl, but he just ended up looking sullen and resentful. "I know what you're thinking: you think I'm too young to know what I'm really feeling—"

"I'm sorry to say it, Dale, but I think you are. I don't know what I'm feeling, and I've been around the block quite a lot longer than you have. So I think you need to pause a while and think hard about what you 'really' feel. Okay?"

"Okay," he said lugubriously.

"Go on," she said. "Here's your train."

She gave him a quick kiss on the mouth and hastened back to her car without a backward glance.