He really knew the show. And why was I surprised? He was my perfect mate.
“Rhoda was always my favorite character,” I felt free to share now. “I was thrilled when I heard she was getting her own show. I couldn’t believe it. I looked forward to that show all week. I didn’t plan anything that whole night because I wasn’t taking any chances that I’d have to miss that first episode.”
He nodded, like
he’d done the same.
“So the night for the season opener comes, and I’m there at the TV fifteen minutes early with the channel on, ready to watch, and my dad comes in and turns the station. It was Monday Night Football. There would be no Rhoda.”
“Did he know you’d been waiting to see the show?”
“Yeah. But it was Monday Night Football.”
“So after all that you missed the show?”
“No, my mom got the little television in the basement to work well enough for me to see it down there. It just had lines going through it the whole time. But what really made me mad was that my dad slept through the football game that was on the big color TV upstairs.”
“That’s not right.”
That’s what I thought.
And Tim had just passed my test.
We’d also passed all the miles between my house and his. We were on Maple Street, and he was pulling up beside a lovely wood-sided home that was historic and antebellum in feeling. It had character, unlike the identical brick homes that had overpopulated the town where I lived.
And panic set in. This was where I was going to fail the Mom test.
“Tim? Is that you?”
The voice struck a chord of fear through my already shaking body.
“Yeah, Mom. We’re here.” Holding my hand, Tim pulled me inside the kitchen door, through the dining room, and into the living room where his mother sat. There was an end table beside her. It had a lamp on it. She was a lot older than my mom.
“Mom, this is Tara. Tara, this is my mom.”
I smiled. “Hi.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Tim says you’re from Huber Heights.” I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Yes, ma’am.” At least being Walt Gumser’s daughter meant I’d had manners drilled into me.
She nodded and looked like she was going to say more.
I was just thinking I might do okay when Tim pulled at the hand that was still attached to his and I was turning my back on his mother.
He was making me rude when I was trying so hard to be perfect.
“We’re going to lift weights,” Tim told his mom.
Before I could say more, we were heading back the way we’d come.
He didn’t stop pulling until we were in his room. It was on the first floor in the middle of the house and was long and kind of narrow. A stereo and turntable were on the left side of the door next to a desk. The weights were across from the desk. Behind all of that was his bed.
And his mother was out in the living room. She knew we were in Tim’s room. With his bed.
And the erotic weights.
Suddenly, I was mortified. I opened my mouth to tell him so. But didn’t get the chance.