The Worst Romance Novel Ever Written (17 page)

“
There’s nothing I hate more than not being sure of who’s speaking in a book. I sort of know who’s speaking here, but you can do, um, better, I mean, worse. Let’s practice.” Gloria took another page of the manuscript and turned it over. “You start.”

This could get very interesting,
Johnny thought. He wrote in all capital letters: “ARE YOU SPEAKING FIRST OR AM I?”

Gloria wrote: “You are. Why?”

“
I DON’T SEE MY NAME BEFORE OR AFTER THE QUOTATION MARKS.”

“
Neither do I. I’m speaking now, aren’t I?”

“
I THINK SO. WHAT WERE YOU SAYING?”

“
If indeed it was me.”

“
OF COURSE.”

“
And if indeed you just said, ‘Of course.’”

“
RIGHT.”

“
I think I was saying something like … huh.”

“
NO. I SAID, ‘HUH.’ I SAY THAT A LOT AROUND YOU.”

“
Why?”

“
YOU’RE SO DIRECT.”

“
I am?”

“
AND RIGHT NINETY-NINE PERCENT OF THE TIME.”

“
Where’s the other percent?”

“
THE TOILET PAPER CONTROVERSY.”

“
Oh.”

“
AREN’T WE SUPPOSED TO BE GETTING COZY SOMEWHERE?”

“
We are?”

“
THIS IS A LOVE SCENE, ISN’T IT?”

“
We’re in a Quick-E Mart at nearly three-thirty in the morning.”

“
WE DON’T HAVE TO BE.”

Gloria could barely control her breathing because of where she thought Johnny’s sensuous pen was taking them. “Well, you obviously get the idea.” She swiftly moved around the counter to her stool.

I scared her away already? What did I say?
He reread the dialogue.
Oh. She thought— But that’s not what I meant! I have to change the subject.
“My first, um, attempt was a complete disaster.”

“
Your first … attempt … at what?”
No way he’s going to tell me about—

“
Um, my first attempt at my first, um, time.”

Why won’t he stop? I’m about to have an arrhythmia over here! Asking me to get cozy and go somewhere! And now this?

He leaned his elbows on the holy orange counter. “I was down in Florida for spring break when I was a freshman. I went to Virginia Tech, if you can believe it.”

Johnny is … educated? Intriguing. He’s pushing triple digits now.

No need to tell her my degree. That’s so … ordinary. And sad. I may have to tell her about that one day.
“Anyway, I was down in Florida on the beach, and I met this girl at a party. Bonfire, beer, moonlight … guys puking, fights, girls puking, passed out sororities, the whole romantic spring break scene. Anyway, this girl grabbed my hand, we wandered away … and the police showed up before we could, um, you know. They shined their lights in my eyes and everything. I reached for my ID, but of course I wasn’t wearing much at the time, so when I reached back …”

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh …
Gloria laughed so hard she stumbled off the stool.

What’s so funny?
“I never found my shorts. I guess it must have been high tide. I’ve always hoped that in some small way my shorts helped undermine Castro.”

Gloria continued laughing. “What?”

“
I’ve always hoped maybe some Cuban would use my shorts to fashion a makeshift sail for a boat that would bring him or her to freedom. I wished I wore baggier shorts in those days like I do now. More surface area for the wind to hit.”

He can’t be serious!
“I am so sorry I laughed, Johnny, it’s just … I could see you reaching for your ID …”
Which means I just told Johnny that just now I imagined him naked on the beach. I may blush my entire body into this orange counter.

“
I meant for you to laugh,” Johnny said. “I wanted to hear your real laugh, Gloria. I hope to hear it often.”

That was so sweet!
“You will if you keep telling me stories like that.”

“
It wasn’t a story. It happened.”

“
What was her name?”

Johnny smiled. “I never knew her name. For real. And that’s why I say that people can hook up and learn each other’s names afterwards or not ever know each other’s name. It happened to me.”

“
The police came for real?”

Johnny nodded. “Very big flashlights.” Johnny stared at the counter. “Um, now that you’re, um, safely over there, could we maybe write another scene?”

A love scene? Oh my!
“What kind of scene?”

“
Oh, just a date. Relationships have to move slowly, right?”

He’s catching on.
“Right.”

Johnny wrote a line and slid the page across the counter. “Tag, you’re it.”

Gloria stared at the page: “WILL YOU GO OUT TO BREAKFAST WITH ME?”
This is so sweet, too.
She wrote: “Sure. I’d love to.”

She slid the page back to Johnny.

“
Um, I just thought it would be easier to write a scene,” Johnny said, “or just list some more ideas if we were sitting side-by-side in a booth, like at the Roanoker.”

Which is just across the street. How convenient.
“Sure.”

“
Well, I’d, uh, I’d like to go home and get cleaned up first,” Johnny said with a grimace. “I know I smell like yeasty bleach. I can meet you there or I can pick you up.”

That car of his scares me.
“It’s only across the street, Johnny.”

“
It might rain.”

“
I’ll meet you there.”

“
Okay.” He collected the manuscript. “And if you think of anything else, um, just write it down.”

“
I will.”

He looked directly into Gloria’s eyes. “I’m glad you didn’t like it, Gloria. Thank you for being honest.”

“
You’re welcome.”

He looked down at the counter but didn’t slap, touch, or drum his fingers on it. “See you soon.”

“
Around five fifteen.”

Gloria watched him go, even cocking her head around the counter to get a better look at him. She glanced at the clock behind her, willing it to race ninety minutes to quitting time. She pulled several napkins from the dispenser on top of the deli and went to work.

By the time Elizabeth “the Elephant Woman” McDougal came on at five and on time for a change, Gloria had filled fifteen napkins with ideas, the last an extremely sensual love scene.

She put that scene in her purse.

After all,
she thought,
I barely know the man.

She laughed nervously.
And I think I’m about to get to know him a whole lot better.

15

Johnny, shaved and smelling more like Irish Spring soap than yeasty bleach, read fourteen napkins covered with some wild ideas while he and Gloria waited for their breakfasts in a cozy booth at the Roanoker, a restaurant that had been serving country breakfasts, lunches, and dinners at reasonable prices since 1941.

“
What do you think?” Gloria asked, her thigh introducing itself to Johnny’s thigh.

“
I think that you are amazing,” he whispered.

And now my whole body is warm,
Gloria thought.

“
This scene where you get into everybody’s head all at the same time is insane,” Johnny said. “I have enough trouble getting into one character’s head.”

“
What would you add?” She added more sugar and a little cream to her coffee.

Johnny blushed, or at least he seemed to blush. He had shaved with an old disposable blade, and he had major razor burns. “You don’t want to know.”

“
Try me.”

I am trying you,
Johnny thought,
but your thigh and my thigh are about to spark up a fire in this booth.
“I’d have the waiter think less about his aching feet and more about the heel implants he just got.”

Say what?
“Heel implants?”

“
He had read an article in
Mean Cuisine
magazine that said taller waiters earned bigger tips, so he went down to Mexico because his health care provider wouldn’t cover such an operation or any operation involving a scalpel for that matter, and had the operation in the back of a moving pickup truck from a doctor who also sold velvet paintings of Elvis and Ché Guevara to defray his overhead costs.”

How does he do that?
She nudged him with her elbow. “You have a thing for heels?”

“
Not really.”
Even her elbow is soft!

She squeezed his bicep.
Hard as a rock. Nice.
“What else would you add?”
As if anyone could add anything to that!

“
Well, I’d have the waiter say ‘spee-see-all’ instead of special, and the ‘spee-see-all’ of the day would be ducks in clam sauce doused with Limburger cheese and sautéed in fresh broiled snail larva.”

Gloria grimaced. “You should never write at the dinner table.”

“
But there’s more!”
There’s always more!
“The ‘spee-see-all’ would also include generous side dishes of lentil linguini topped with cinnamon, curry powder, and frog pancreas.”

“
I’m going to be sick.”

“
Really?”

She pressed her thigh firmly into his. “No. But no one would ever order the spee-see-all, right?”

“
True.” He took a sip of hot tea. “Gunn’s stomach rumbled and grumbled. The last time he ate frog pancreas he nearly expelled an intestine and half a lung after several days dry-heaving corn he had eaten at an eighth grade class picnic to impress Mandy Bjornson, an exchange girl from Sweden.”

“
You’re good at this.”
Gross, but effectively tangential.

“
Yes. I am good at writing badly.”

She rubbed her shoulder against his. “You’re funny, naturally funny.”

And she has a soft shoulder.
“No MSG, no additives, no preservatives.”

Just … innocence,
Gloria thought.
He’s so rare.
“What about Thais? Why won’t she order the special?”

Johnny sat back in the booth, staring across the rapidly filling dining room. “Thais has an
aversion
to linguini since it reminds her of the fishing trip she and her adoptive grandpapa once took up the Amazon River in the riverboat steamer used in
African Queen.
She had caught a two-hundred-pound tarpon, and when Grandpapa gutted it, hundreds of white intestinal worms tried to escape through the tarpon’s anus.”

“
That is so sick!” Gloria giggled.

“
Yeah, especially since Grandpapa used the same worms to catch more tarpon, and each tarpon came fresh to the boat with an anus full of escaping intestinal worms. It was a vicious cycle Thais
didn’t
want to be repeated on their first date.”

Nasty!
“Who would?”

“
By the way, Hector—he’s my boss. Hector is thinking of adding linguini to the menu.”

“
He isn’t.”
I can never eat linguini again.

“
You’re right.”
At least I hope he doesn’t!
“Yeah, I work for a Guatemalan who makes a living selling Italian pizza in Virginia. Only in America.”

“
Yeah.” Gloria checked her cell phone for the time. “Where is our waitress?”