Chapter 8: Temptation

...Sherry prepares a special dinner...


It was the Thursday before the Memorial Day weekend and the roommates gathered for a meal Sherry prepared. Riley helped move the dining table into the front. Sherry struck the shades and opened the windows to evening and neighboring lights. Above a white tablecloth and the table set for four, she lit two candles.

She wanted it to be special because she’d been getting hints the end was near. At work, her boss delivered her six-month appraisal and offered a permanent job. She declined the offer --- which made Lola unhappy.

At home, Riley and Mara were prepping for finals and planning summer trips: Mara to Europe for a few weeks before returning to L.A., and Riley to spend time with family in Kansas and Florida. She didn’t know if they were aware that she’d be leaving by the time they returned to San Francisco. The dinner was her way of marking the occasion.

The scent of food wafted through the apartment. The menu was tomato bisque, beef brisket, red potatoes and asparagus. Dessert was ice cream, vanilla or chocolate, and for drinks, sparkling cider or soda.

Mara and Riley had stayed in the background during much of the preparation, but at eight o’clock they met in the hallway and took the few short steps to present themselves.

“Beautiful!” Mara exclaimed.

A knock at the door diverted Riley who admitted Lola and a flame fluttering draft. She stepped into the room and met the winking of lights, reflected off silverware and the lips of glasses, and through the windows from the street lamps outside.

“Nice.”

Her bracelets jangled as she ran to kiss Sherry. She wore a tight black skirt accentuating her long legs, ankle boots and a silky blouse with a plunging neckline. Thick black mascara and long lashes framed her brown eyes. Sherry had suggested everyone dress up, but she thought Lola might have overdone it.

Riley wore a long-sleeved white shirt and designer jeans; Mara tan slacks, a teal blouse and earrings fashioned like bluish-green globes. Sherry wore her gray skirt and a lavender blouse and a fake pearl necklace. She balanced herself on a new pair of black leather shoes with one-inch heels.

Taking her place, Sherry sat opposite Riley on the end of the table with Mara to her left and Lola on her right.

As soon as she sat, Mara sprung up, pointing to the squat water glasses. “Not those! I’ll get the wine glasses.”

“We’re not having wine,” Sherry said.

Mara collected the glasses and carried them into the kitchen. Sherry fidgeted as she contemplated the substitution.

“You can have cider in a wine glass,” Riley said diplomatically.

Mara set a thin-stemmed wine glass before each person and placed a bottle of red wine next to the cider. Sherry’s contemplation became a frown. The two bottles looked similar but led to different consequences. The wine glasses were more stylish but so was temptation.

Sherry began to ladle out the soup when Lola added, “I want wine, too.”

Sherry paused, a bowl in her left hand and the ladle in her right. “You don’t drink.”

Lola nodded, a small smile on her lips.

“Wine with food isn’t drinking.” Mara said, snatching the dish from Sherry.

“Cider’s good, too,” said Riley, his hand hovering over the two bottles. Manners restrained him from filling his glass first, so he lifted the wine and filled Mara’s and was setting the bottle down when Lola held hers up.

Again Sherry paused in mid-action, her eyes willing Lola to change her mind. But she gazed at the red liquid filling her glass. Riley poured and continued to pour when she prompted him. Then he set down the wine and picked up the cider to fill Sherry’s glass and his own.

Lola anticipated the flavor and the warm feeling she’d get as she admired the way the candle flame backlit the rose-colored glass. She was hardly aware that Sherry had stood and reached across her shoulder to set the glass of cider down. She turned to see her go into the kitchen, fetch a water glass and stand by Riley as he filled it.

Now Lola had two glasses, one rose-colored and the other sparkling amber that glowed like incandescent gold. The colors dazzled but she grew uncomfortable; she was being forced to choose. She didn’t want to be disloyal to her friend, but had doubts about total abstinence. And the wine looked so good.

Sherry bowed her head to say grace and when she looked up everyone was still focused on the glasses. “Eat your soup before it gets cold.”

Mara took up her glass.

“Wait!” Riley shouted. “I want to propose a toast.”

Mara took a healthy swallow before anyone could join in. Seeing the surprise on their faces, she said, “There’s plenty of wine.”

Sherry lifted her glass, as did Riley, but Lola was paralyzed, staring at the rose and the amber.

“Is it a pretend toast, if I’m pretend drinking?”

“Not if you’re sincere,” said Riley.

“Toasting is toasting no matter what you drink.”

Annoyed, Mara said, “If she wants wine, she should have wine.”

Resolution flickering across her face, Lola seized the cider. Three glasses of cider were raised, one of wine.

“To Sherry.”

Sherry took it as a small victory, but Mara saw a challenge. She was happy that Sherry seemed more settled in her own skin and watched as she tilted her head in quiet consul with Lola, like a mother to a daughter.

True, Sherry cast doubtful looks at her at times, as if she were an alien; like when she suggested taking trips or going out. Maybe it was the money holding her back, but she suspected Sherry of being provincial and distrustful of anything new.

Yet she was impressed with how she handled her boyfriend and his surprise visit. She didn’t go into detail, only saying it turned out all right. Since then, she projected a confident glow. Mara had to give her credit; she was deeper than she thought.

She’ll go back to Riverside and live her life, but Lola will stay. If she wants to live the life of the city, she should do it without inhibition. She could help.

When they finished the soup, Riley collected the bowls while Sherry brought out the brisket in a serving dish.

Meanwhile, Lola had the sensation she was in a fishbowl: everyone was watching. First Sherry, when she said she wanted wine, which led to their hushed conversation about being strong. Now Mara. Or was it her imagination? Every time Mara took a drink the wine pitched about in her glass like red waves in a stormy sea, then she tipped the glass in her direction before pulling it back to her lips. Her unblinking blue eyes gazed over the glass and, below her ears, the globe earrings spun and dangled. Was she trying to hypnotize her?

She considered the glasses. The cider was three fingers less than the wine now and the earlier anticipation was becoming an urgency. She tried to put it out of her mind by shifting her attention to Riley, who was retaking his seat. She smiled. He smiled back, and she admired his straight white teeth, the sparkle of blue eyes and the blond wave of hair cresting over his brow. She inched her chair closer and whispered.

“Did Sherry tell you? I stopped drinking.”

He shook his head.

“I did.”

Riley nodded cautiously, wary of where the conversation might lead. He didn’t want to tip the balance by choosing sides.

She continued to whisper. “Why aren’t you having wine?”

He shrugged and positioned knife and fork over the brisket. Lola moved even closer, her face nearly over his plate.

“Have you tried this one before?”

He shook his head. “Maybe later.”

Lola reached back for her glass and brought it to him. She inched it to his lips. Afraid it’d drip onto his shirt, he set down his silverware and grasped the globe while she held the stem. He sipped as she maintained the pressure until his panicked eyes said, “Enough”.

Returning the glass to its position beside the cider, she noted that the wine was only a finger higher now.

Sherry pressed her lips into a thin line. Mara grinned mischievously. Riley, blinking with embarrassment, looked into his plate. And Lola, joyfully, brought a forkful of brisket to her mouth...




The dinner will continue in the next chapter, which will be posted October 17.

The persons and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.