Equal Shares Ch. 01

When he got in his car and glanced at the clock, he noticed he'd be on time after all, so he drove the two miles to Denise's house without undue haste. He parked, got out and walked up the path.

Denise's house – really a smallish cottage – had a nicely kept if very small garden in the front. Her StreetKa 2-seater convertible was parked in the drive, and Stan stopped to admire the little red sports car. Then he rang the bell, and waited for a moment, fidgeting. 'God, I feel like a schoolboy again,' he thought, then realized how untrue it was as he'd never dated at all while at school. 'Going to an all-boys Grammar school may have been a good general education, but it certainly restricted my education with girls,' he mused.

He was brought back to the real universe when the door opened.

"Hi, Stan!" Denise said, stepping through the door. She turned to lock it, then noticed that he'd not replied. She glanced over to see Stan already halfway down the path heading towards his car. Shrugging, she hurried after him.

Stan clicked his remote, unlocking the doors, and without thought walked straight around to the driver's side. He stopped, observing that Denise was still standing there. "It's open," he said. He opened his door and got in, while Denise shook her head and did the same.

It was a ten-minute drive to the bar, just too far to walk. During the drive Denise chattered away, but Stan was only listening with his 'spouse ear' – the one that all husbands develop, that allows "Yes dear" answers at appropriate points without actually paying attention.

"Don't you think, Stan?" finally penetrated his brain.

'What had she been talking about?' thought Stan, scrunching his forehead. A replay of the last sentence proved just beyond his grasp. "I'm sorry, Denise, I didn't quite catch that," he said.

"You haven't been listening, have you?" she said, with a little of 'That Tone' in her voice. Stan glanced over. Denise arched an eyebrow, and then grinned at him. "Raoul used to do that."

"Raoul?"

"My ex," Denise answered.

"Oh."

"Isaid," she continued, "Don't you think the blossoms look nice?"

"Er, yeah."

"What sort of blossoms are they, anyway?"

A memory triggered, "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White," Stan answered, almost dreamily.

"Huh?" It was Denise's turn to be confused.

Stan snapped back to the present. "Old song. Forget it. We're here," he said, pulling into the car park.

Denise sat in the car as he got out, waiting. Stan, remembering his manners this time, went around and opened the door, and Denise got out, giving him a peck on the cheek. "See, youwere brought up properly," she teased. Stan flushed, and muttered, "Yeah..."

They walked into the bar. As it was only just after eight, it wasn't too busy. Denisewas surprised not to find half of The Firm there, but only Elaine looked back at her over her drink from the other side of the bar. She grinned at Denise, and resumed her conversation with her friend. Stan failed to notice the answering grin on the face of Denise.

Denise kept up a constant, if rather one-sided, conversation while they were served with their drinks, Gin & Tonic for her, mineral water for him "because I'm driving," as he always felt he had to say. Stan never quite felt right being in a bar drinking soft drinks, but he'd become used to it – no one else was driving him anywhere.

"Cherry Pink and what?" Denise said. It made it's way through Stan's ears, into his brain, and finally into his consciousness

.

"Pardon me?"

"You said something about 'Cherry Pink' and something, I wondered what you meant."

"Not important," he said, a little stiffly.

She laid a hand on his arm, "Please?"

"Oh well. 'Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White.' It's a tune; I can't remember who played it, but my father loved it, and I remember hearing it a lot when I was young. Whenever my attention is drawn to either the pink cherry blossom or the white of the apple, I always seem to think of it – can't help it."

"Tell me more about your parents?"

So, they passed time, the drinks came and went, and another round was ordered. Denise felt like she was getting somewhere with Stan, he was morealive than he'd been for ages – well, for the last six months, at least. However, one of those natural lulls in conversation came and Stan looked at his watch.

"You have another date?" Denise attempted. Stan looked at her, drained his glass, and rather pointedly looked at hers. She sighed, and tried again.

"What's at home that you need to get there so soon?"

"There's a program I always watch." While a true statement, it had already started ten minutes ago, and Stan really wasn't that interested. He just felt suddenly uncomfortable. "Look, I think we should go home now," he said.

He'd closed up again, Denise saw. Well, Elizabeth had said 'Baby Steps'. "Okay then, Stan, give me a moment and you can take me home."

In the car, Denise tried once more to begin a conversation, but now it really was battering against a solid wall and she felt that she should stop. So they arrived at her house in deafening silence.

Stan got out, opened the passenger door, and saw her to her front door like a gentleman, but his eyes were anywhere but on Denise. She stood on her doorstep for a moment, turned, and stopped him for a moment, her hand on his shoulder.

"Stan, have I done something wrong?" she asked with concern.

"No, Denise," he sighed, "nothing wrong. I just thought of Caron, that's all."

"Oh."

There was not much more to be said, really, she thought. Certainly nothingshe could think of.

"Well, goodnight, Stan. Thank you for taking me out tonight."

She bent and went to kiss him on the cheek, but he evaded and only accepted an air kiss.

He muttered something and walked back to his car, deep within himself. Denise waited 'til he'd got to his car, waved and closed the door. She collected her thoughts. She justknew there'd be a 'debrief' from Elizabeth in the morning.

Stan drove away on autopilot, seeing only dark eyes in a pale, porcelain-pure face.

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