The table was set with hot soup, bread, butter, and salad. There was a bottle of wine ready to open. Dorothy and Louise stood by the table waiting for him. ‘Sit down, sweetie,’ Louise said, ‘let’s eat.’ All three sat down. Steve poured the wine. They ate heartily. After dinner, they lingered over coffee, anticipating the night’s activities, but willing to delay them a bit longer. Steve was still amazed at his good luck as he looked at the two beautiful women across the table from him. Finally, Dorothy said, ‘All right, young man, go sit down on the couch. Louise and I have something special to show you.’ ‘I can hardly wait,’ Steve said. He sat down on the couch and waited. Mellow jazz was on the stereo. First, Dorothy came out. She leaned over and gave Steve a loving kiss on the lips. ‘I hope you like this, lover,’ she said huskily. She stood in front of him and undid the robe. She was wearing the sheer peignoir that she had modeled earlier for Louise. Slowly she swayed to the. For the millionth time he wished that her mother were here to hold her. Steve was not good with emotions. He had closed off that side of himself three years ago when he buried his wife, Jamie’s mom, Patricia — Patches for short. A nickname he’d given her when they were in grade school, because she was forever showing up to school with new blocks of material covering up a new tare or hole in her clothes. Jamie pulled her hand free of his tender grip, he watched her take the small bible the Minister had read from. It had been Freddy’s. He had carried it with him during his time in the military and often pulled it out whenever he sought guidance from the Lord. Freddy was a religious man, Steve was not. He believed in God, but he didn’t truly speak to him, not when he was married to Patches and certainly not after her death. Steve knew that when his time on Earth was done, he would find himself either standing at the gates, or embracing the fiery pits of Hell. The service concluded and.
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