ME AND LARRY AND LAINIE
I completed another lap around the lobby of the Drake Hotel and looked nervously toward the door again. I wasn�t even sure if I would recognize her right away. I mean, hey, it had been fifteen years since the last time I saw her. Larry showed me her wedding picture, but that was taken seven years ago, and I knew she had been single for at least the last four years or so. I always said I would look her up if I was in Chicago, and today, I was in Chicago. Truthfully though, I probably wouldn�t have had the guts to call her at all, but when Larry found out about my trip to the windy city, he called Lainie and told her about it the same day. �Elaine� I corrected myself. Elaine Marshall was a grown woman now, and a successful account executive at a large advertising firm. Still, in my mind, I thought of Lainie, Larry�s big sister, the way she looked in about 1985.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and looked through the window out over Michigan Avenue. Larry and I were the same age, we had grown up together, and we were still best friends even though we lived 200 miles apart. His sister Lainie was two years older than us and when she was nineteen, she was the coolest girl in the world. At least that�s how I remembered her now. It hadn�t always been that way, though.
The Marshall family had been organized in the typical fashion of the time, and since Lainie was older, it was her job to look out for her younger brother. And since Larry was younger, it was his job to torment her constantly, and embarrass her in front of her friends whenever possible. As a young man, I was happy to help Larry, I mean he was my friend, right?
Like that time when Lainie was dating the Jimmy North, captain of the varsity hockey team at Catholic Central, where she was a sophomore. She had been taking skating lessons, and asked her mom if she could drive to the ice rink for open skating. Larry invited himself of course, and Mrs. Marshall asked Lainie to take me along too.
At the ice rink, Lainie inched along the boards unsteadily in her rented skates, looking up every so often to put the stink-eye on Connie Carter, Jimmy�s ex-girlfriend, as swept gracefully around the center of the rink practicing jumps. Larry and I raced around the rink lap after lap, each time stopping inches away from Lainie, making her scream, and spraying her with clouds of snow. Having traveled one quarter of the way around the rink, Lainie approached a wooden bench that was set out on the ice behind the hockey net. She managed to sit down without falling, looking exhausted already, and retied her skates.
�Kenny?� she asked, �I don�t think my laces are tight enough. Can you pull this a little tighter?�
�O.K.� I mumbled. I was a shy kid, and I never knew what to say around Lainie. As I knelt down to pull her laces tight, Larry careened toward us and stopped fast, sending another cloud of ice shavings into the air.
�You�re not gonna get it tight like that,� Larry said. �Do it like this.� Larry turned his back to Lainie and straddled her untied skate with the seat of his pants nearly in her face. He grabbed her leg and pinched her calf between his thighs while he tightened the laces one eyelet at a time.
�Hey! That�s too tight!� Lainie said.
�Sorry,� Larry said, and gave me a look.
I picked up her other leg and stood shoulder to shoulder with Larry, and started untying Lainie�s other skate.
�We don�t want them to be too tight do we Kenny?� Larry said, and looked me straight in the eye and winked, not too subtly. I looked at his hands and he had Lainie�s laces loosened almost all the way. Larry held his hand up in front of his chest where Lainie couldn�t see and held up one finger, then two, then three.
Something was supposed to happen on the count of three, but I wasn�t sure what. I thought maybe he was going to put his hands together and blow a big fart noise while his butt was in front of Lainie. I had just gotten Lainie�s skate untied and started to loosen the laces when I heard Larry hiss �one-two-three� under his breath. Larry wrenched the skate off of Lainie�s foot and skated away, holding it up over his head and howling with laughter. I caught on to the plan way too late, and though I pulled hard at her other skate, I hadn�t loosened the laces enough to get it off.
�Larry!� she screamed, her stockinged foot kicking wildly in the air, �Goddammit Larry!�
Some of the people skating at the other end of the rink looked her way, but went back to their lessons. I looked down at Lainie�s stockinged foot as she held it up several inches off the ice. Her foot was narrow with a high arch, the shape of her long toes neatly outlined by her sock. She was wearing cable kneesocks, like the kind the girls in our school wore with their uniforms, only it was her favorite color, fire engine red. It looked so soft and fuzzy, and for reasons that have eluded me for more than twenty years, it was hypnotically beautiful to me.
ME AND LAINIE
�Kenny?� she said to me sweetly. �Kenny, can you please get my skate back from my brother for me?�
�Come on Kenny!� Larry said, appearing suddenly. I felt the cold spray on my face, as I stood perfectly still and watched a cloud of ice crystals settle on her sock and become water droplets. I was suddenly aware of my hands still on her skate, and her leg held firmly between mine.
�I hate you! You jerk!� she spat in Larry�s direction.
�What are you waiting for Kenny?� Larry demanded, and backed away slowly while facing us, holding Lainie�s skate in the air like some kind of trophy.
My hands quickly worked at the laces, as Lainie started to struggle to pull her leg free. I leaned forward and fell to the ice as her stockinged foot pushed hard against the back of my thigh. I pulled hard and the skate came most of the way off, with her heel wedging in the top of the boot.
�Kenny,� she said softly, �Please don�t. Jimmy North is going to be here any minute. Help me get my skate back from Larry.�
I looked up to see Larry skating in lazy circles near center ice, swinging her empty skate by the laces now. He pretended to be uninterested, but his eyes never left us. He was my best friend, I told myself, but that wasn�t really the reason. Her skate was just inches from my face and I imagined myself casting it aside and rubbing her soft stockinged foot against my face. My heart was pounding, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that my pants were suddenly too tight. As I struggled to wrestle her skate off, she kicked and poked me with her stockinged foot. I felt her warm toes push up under the back of my shirt, pulling it nearly over my head, but I kept working the laces in spite of her struggle. With a mighty tug, I finally pulled her skate off, but to my surprise, I accidentally pulled her sock off with it.
�On no, no Kenny no,� she said, her voice was only a whisper, but it had a pleading tone. �Kenny, please give me my skate. Her bare toes were right in my face, so slender and perfect, each one curling just above the next, and reaching slightly beyond, aligned in an impossibly perfect arc. She struggled to pull her leg free and her bare toes actually brushed against my lip. �Kenny, put my sock on pleeeeeeease. Come on Kenny, what did I ever do to you?� she said, sounding as if she would start to cry. �Come on Kenny��
If I had been facing her, I don�t know what I would have done, but I wasn�t. I rolled to one side and scrambled to my feet, backing away from her. I watched her feet as she took several unsteady steps across the icy surface before retreating to the bench again. I was so scared, scared that we would get in trouble, scared of what she might do when she finally caught us, but more than anything else, I was scared of my unexplainable reaction to seeing her stranded there barefoot. I just started skating as fast as my legs would carry me. Anxious to separate her from her skate, but equally anxious to hide from her so she would not see how excited I was.
�Kenny!� �Kenny!� �Kenny!� I heard her voice trail off behind me as I rocketed past Larry. I got off the ice and glanced over my shoulder one final time to see her sitting there looking dejected with one naked foot and one brilliant red knee sock perched on the edge of the wooden bench. I ran to the lobby with her skate still in my hand, excited, confused, thrilled, but mostly scared.
Larry came out a minute later and looked around, spotting me as I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. �We got her good that time!� was all he said.
We sat there for a long time. I didn�t know what to say to Larry, and my hands would not stop shaking. I thought about going back to bring her skates to her but I was too embarrassed. Then we saw Jimmy North walk in. He didn�t see us though.
�We gotta get out of here,� Larry said. We took off our skates and returned them to get our shoes back, along with a $10.00 deposit. Larry set Lainie�s skates on the counter and pocketed the extra ten bucks, and we stashed her shoes in a coin locker and hit the door running.
It was a mix of light rain and snow that afternoon, and the grey January sky promised that winter was here to stay for a while. I told Larry I had to get home for dinner, and we headed off walking in opposite directions. But when I was sure he was gone, I hid in the bushes and waited, crouching there in the freezing rain. After about a half hour, I saw Lainie come out the front door of the rink, still wearing only one sock, and stepping carefully on the sidewalk, trying to avoid the snow and ice, and the newly formed puddles. After a few yards, she abandoned that strategy and just scurried along as quickly as she could. Her remaining sock was dark crimson, and soaked through by the time she made it to the parking lot. She came within fifty yards of me as she walked to her car, and as I watched her pale naked foot chase her wet stockinged foot across the pavement, I pulled her other sock from my coat pocket and rubbed the soft material against my face. As I watched her cautiously pick her way past the slushy patches between the cars with her lovely naked feet, I buried my face in her sock and collapsed on my belly in the snow, rubbing my hand on the outside of my jeans and convulsing involuntarily as a new and completely expected sensation overtook me. Was I having a heart attack at fourteen? If I was, I didn�t want it to end.
After that day, I found other reasons to steal her shoes, but never anything so dramatic. She never went out with Jimmy North after that, which was all right with me. He was a jerk.
After more than twenty years, I can still feel the cold wind on my face as I skated away with her sock and skate, stranding her there at the end of the rink, and I can still hear her voice trailing off behind me. �Kenny, Come back!� �Kenny!� �Kenny!� �Kenny!�
�Kenny!�
I ripped my attention away from the memory and turned toward the voice.
�Kenny! Are you alright?�
I stared at Lainie for longer than I had intended. �A little jet lag, maybe,� I said as she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me. She was so much more beautiful than I could have remembered or imagined. �Lainie,� was all I managed to squeak out, my voice catching in my throat. �Elaine,� I tried again, �It�s so great to see you��
�Sorry I�m late,� she said, �my meeting ran a little long.�
I still felt as though I had been awakened from a dream. She was just stunning, straight shoulder length chestnut hair, piercing green eyes, and a smile that radiated through me like sunlight. She wore a charcoal grey jacket and skirt with a pale grey blouse underneath. She had on light tan stockings with slate grey pumps. If she only knew how I felt about her at this moment, I thought.
Reality slapped me hard. If she knew that, she would know exactly what I was feeling just a minute before, and what I was feeling the countless other times when I had stolen her shoes just �playing around�. And if she knew, then Larry would probably know too. Imagine if they both knew that I still had her red kneesock in my suitcase upstairs? I don�t know why, I just never threw it out, and I saw it in the bottom of my drawer as I was packing yesterday and...
�Just imagine if they knew about you,� a voice chided me from deep inside my soul.
�I have to get a picture before I forget,� I told her, and pulled my Canon S-10 from my coat pocket. �I just got this thing,� I said, as I fumbled with the button. The camera flashed and the tiny digital display showed a picture it had captured of her stocking clad legs. It was completely unintentional, but I didn�t erase it. I snapped a couple more by the giant floral display, and the bell captain took a couple of us together.
�I didn�t know where you wanted to eat,� she said, �So I made us a reservation at Houston�s.�
�Any place is O.K. with me,� I said, regaining some of my composure.
We walked from the lobby of the Drake and the doorman flagged a cab for us. I held the door for her as she sat down and slid across the seat. Her heel slid out of her shoe and nearly fell onto the wet pavement, but instead, landed on the rubber flooring of the cab. I glanced at her stocking clad toes as my heart skipped several beats. Her foot was slender, widening ever so slightly at the instep, before ending with her perfect toes, which flexed delightfully as she reached out for the shoe. Her painted toes glistened like rubies in the evening light, and as I glanced up our eyes locked briefly for a moment before she looked away, extending her toes and fishing the errant shoe from the floor, fitting it back onto her heel with her hand.
�These shoes are a little bit big,� she said, �but I knew I was going to be standing all day at that meeting.�
�Those are very nice shoes,� I said, sounding like an imbecile. We rode in the cab and I watched the Water Tower go by the window, wanting desperately for the conversation to linger on this subject, but coming up with nothing to add.
Houston�s turned out to be an old time restaurant in the first floor of the Lennox House. It was dimly lit, and we sat in a giant oversized booth near the door. It was still before 5:00 o�clock and the restaurant was nearly deserted. The warm yellow light from above made her look radiant, and we leaned forward involuntarily, speaking quietly in the hushed room.
�Tell me everything about your life,� I said, but immediately thought that it sounded hokey and pretentious.
�Well,� she said, looking down as if she were shy in talking about herself. �I think we left off where I was going away to Stanford, and you and Larry were drag racing cars.� Her eyes locked onto mine as she smiled warmly. �After college, I got a job, got married, got a different job, got divorced, and got another job. And that�s about it. I live on the North side, go to cubs games in the summertime, and I still skate in the winter.�
I quickly looked away, as my face went hot, and the waiter showed up to save me.
�May I bring you a drink?� he asked.
I was thinking about a glass of wine maybe, but I really didn�t drink much.
�Martini,� she said, �and could I have some of those little onions instead of the olives?�
�I�ll have the same,� I said, for no good reason. I�ve never had a Martini before or since.
The waiter headed off toward the bar and we had the world to ourselves again.
�What about you?� she said. �Surely, you can�t expect me to believe what Larry says about you.�
�I sincerely hope not,� I said, as we laughed. �Well, not long after you left for school, my parents moved across town. I still went to Catholic Central High, so I still got to hang around with�� I heard the clack of a shoe hitting the terrazzo floor and my mind went blank. �You know, well I still hung around, you know with um, with�.�
�Larry,� she said looking amused.
�Yeah, we hung around until senior year, and then I went to Northwestern and he went off to Michigan, and, well we still stayed close and everything, but�� This wasn�t going very well. I sell people stuff everyday, making a living talking to people, but for some reason, I felt as if I didn�t even speak English around her. �So any way, after college, I got a job, and then some other jobs, and now I sell fiber-optic cable to high tech manufacturers.�
�No kids, never married?� she said, already knowing the answer.
�Never met anybody,� I said. Never met anybody like you was the correct answer, but I left off that part, and drained my Martini. I was completely on edge by that time, and when my pager started vibrating on my belt, I thought I was being electrocuted or something. Startled, I pulled it from my side, fumbled it, and dropped it on the seat where it bounced once and disappeared underneath the table. I pulled up the edge of the tablecloth and looked underneath but it was too dark, I couldn�t see a thing. Lainie got this strange look on her face, and I�m sure I must have looked like an idiot.
I leaned over as far as I could until my chin was nearly on the table, and felt around the floor for the pager. Finally, I found it, right next to my shoe, actually, between my shoe and her shoe. And when I accidentally discovered her shoe, it was empty, just lying there on the floor. I picked it up, I don�t know why, I just did. As I checked the number on the pager, I mentally measured the tabletop. It was easily 40-inches wide, and at 5� 7�� tops, there was no way Lainie had slipped her foot out of it and left it there, it must have gotten away from her and slipped beyond her reach.
�Do you have to make a phone call?� she asked, pulling a cell phone from her purse. It made a beeping sound as she flipped it open. �There may not be much battery left,� she said.
�Is there a payphone?� I asked, �My boss is kind a of a gasbag, I call him collect, that way he remembers that he is paying the bill.�
Lainie looked over her shoulder at the large oak and glass phone booth in the corner.
I started to slide out of the booth but stopped. Her empty grey pump was still sitting on the seat next to me, and I couldn�t just leave it there while I went to the phone booth. I didn�t think she could see it from there, but what if the waiter came back? I grabbed the shoe and eased it under the table until it was about a foot off the floor. Now what? I couldn�t just drop it on the floor, or it would make a loud clack like the one I had heard a few minutes ago, and she would know I had taken it. Finally, I grabbed my coat and buried the shoe in the folds of it. A quick phone call would give me a chance to think of something.
�I�ll try to get rid of him quick,� I said, �but it may take a minute. Do you want to order?�
�Take your time,� she said, �I�m in no big hurry to go anywhere.�
LAINIE
If she knew I had her shoe in my hand as I walked away from her, she would have known she wasn�t going anywhere soon, I thought to myself.
I sat down in the phone booth and closed the sliding door. It was made of heavy oak and curved glass, and it looked really old. There was a small desk made of the same wood with a tiny lamp that illuminated the work surface. I dialed Mr. Gallier and settled in.
I could see Lainie from where I sat and I marveled again at how beautiful she was. Gallier was uncharacteristically brief and in less than a minute, our phone call ended. I watched her silently with the phone still held to my ear, and I was just about to stand up when I saw Lainie slouching down in her seat and extending her stockinged foot under the table, searching for her shoe. I knew it was risky, but I pulled out my camera, made sure the flash was turned off, and pressed the button about ten times. Her tan leg was so long and slender, her exquisite foot flexed and pointed as her satin toes searched for her missing shoe. But as her stockinged foot worked under the table, her hands were neatly folded in front of her and she looked straight ahead, a picture of serenity. I tucked the camera into my coat pocket and just sat in the darkened booth holding her empty shoe in my hand, and brought it up to my face, feeling the smooth leather against my cheek, letting the faint aroma of leather and perfume and her skin intoxicate me. It was like living a fantasy, but I resolved myself to savor this moment only briefly, and then get back to the table and find a way out of this mess I had made. I tucked the shoe back into my coat and began to stand again, but just as I did, Lainie stood up as well.
At first, she was balanced on one leg, holding her stockinged foot well above the surface of the floor, her nyloned arch rubbing up and down her shin as she glanced around the restaurant nervously. Then, she set her stocking clad toes on the floor cautiously, and took a half hopping step, all while gripping the edge of the table for balance. To compensate for the height of her remaining high heel, she held her stockinged heel aloft with her foot pointed straight down from her ankle, continuing the regal line of her elegant leg to the point where her toes pressed lightly on the terrazzo and swept forward along the line of the floor. I sat down again, mesmerized, and reminded myself to breath. It was like living my fantasy scenario all over again. Maybe it was the way she stepped so tentatively and cautiously on the terrazzo floor with her elegant stockinged foot, barely touching the glossy surface with the tips of her toes. Or maybe it was just the thrill of seeing her naked stockinged foot in a restaurant, and knowing she was stranded in public situation without her shoe. In my mind, the scene unfolded before me as a slow motion instant replay of Lainie stepping carefully through the snowy parking lot outside the ice rink all those years ago. There was something in the way she moved, it was the same, but not the same. I held her shoe against my cheek again and breathed in deeply, intoxicated to possess this simple item that had been so intimately connected to her all day long, and somehow the thrill was intensified by secretly watching her search for it now. I watched her bend over slightly and look under the table for her shoe, to no avail, then look around the nearby tables and aisles, again with her stockinged toes pressed against the cool shimmering terrazzo floor, always holding the edge of the table with her hand. And if her actions were the mirror image of that day at the ice rink, mine were as well. Without any consideration for where I was or what I was doing, I completely lost control.
In the way that a sonic boom occurs when a jet exceeds the sound barrier, I could feel the waves of pent up energy release in me as thoughts and events merged and accelerated to exceed the natural boundary that delineates fantasy from reality. As I pressed her empty shoe hard against my face, the last waves washed over me while I watched her standing there, one naked stockinged foot reluctantly exposed to all the world. Suddenly flustered, her sleek stocking clad toes lightly brushed over the shiny floor as she struggled to regain balance on her remaining high heel, and explain to the puzzled waiter that her shoe had been there moments ago, but had somehow disappeared from beneath the table. As I watched her standing next to him, I began to lose altitude and reality began to assert itself once again. I realized that I couldn�t just sit here in the phone booth all night stroking her shoe.
The men�s room was behind me, and down the hall, and I figured I could probably slip out of the booth while she was preoccupied with the waiter, who had now been joined by the maitre�D, both of the staring at her stockinged foot as she gestured toward the area underneath the table. The more pressing problem was what to do with her shoe. Apparently, it had not occurred to Lainie that I had taken it in spite of my many misdeeds as a youth. I looked at the tiny desk in front of me. There was a gap in the corner that was just large enough, maybe I should just get rid of the evidence now. Throw it behind the desk to remain there for years or decades. Or maybe I should just get to the men�s room and then decide. Or maybe I should go back to the table, and drop it in a nearby booth or something, where it could easily be found. I eyed the exit at the end of the hall.
Like so many times before, I felt confused, and somewhat ashamed. I had the sudden urge to flee, and in my imagination, I would just walk out the door with the shoe, then hang around at a safe distance, watching as she emerges onto the sidewalk, making her way through chilly evening with one shoe, her stockinged foot traveling the streets of the city exposed. I thought of the shoe in my hand, sitting next to her old red knee sock in my dresser drawer. My head was spinning out of control.
But really, why not just slip away? I hadn�t seen her in all these years, and I probably wouldn�t see her again for years to come, if at all. But I wanted to, God I really, really wanted to spend more time with her, even if it was just a few more hours over dinner. I slipped down the hall to the men�s room as the waiter and maitre�D left and Lainie slid back into the booth, her gorgeous stockinged foot waving in the air impatiently.
LAINIE AND LARRY
�Larry, it�s Lainie, I have to talk fast, because I�m running out of battery on my cell. It�s going horribly wrong! I wore these shoes that I bought on sale and they�re a half size too big and I lost one getting into the cab and it almost fell out the door and under the cab, and now I�m at the restaurant and�.�
�Lainie, calm down, take a breath�� Larry started.
�Larry, listen to me!� she interrupted. �So I�m at the restaurant and my shoe falls off under the table and I feel around for it, but I can�t find it! So then Kenny went to make a phone call, and I looked under the table and my shoe was gone! I could just die Larry! And then the waiter and the maitre�D came over and they looked for it, and I�m standing there in the middle of the restaurant with one shoe, and that�s it! My shoe is gone! He�ll be back any minute, and I only have one shoe. What am I going to do Larry?�
Larry listened to his sister ramble on. �Kenny, what did you do now buddy?� he thought, but did not say it aloud. �So what do you think happened to your shoe then?� he asked, dreading the answer. For as long as he could remember, Kenny had been a really good guy, but whenever he was around Lainie, he turned into an idiot.
�I don�t know,� she said. �There�s a space between the booths and the waiter thinks it might have gone behind there. I can�t even believe this, it�s just so embarrassing. I just wanted everything to go so perfectly tonight, and now I have to explain that I lost my shoe and I�m stranded here in the middle of a fancy restaurant barefoot.�
�Lainie, relax.� Larry said, wondering how his sister could miss something so obvious. �Kenny has seen you loose your shoes a million times,� usually because he stole them from you he didn�t add. �Remember that time at the ice rink, or you and Shannon at the movie theater?�
Actually, she had almost forgotten that one. Shannon Fitzpatrick was the most popular girl Lainie�s class, and a cheerleader too. Lainie had wanted so much to be her friend and would do anything to impress Shannon. One afternoon, Lainie and Shannon were going to the movies, and as often happened, Lainie�s mother made her take her little brother too. It seemed O.K. at first, because Lainie and Shannon bought tickets to see �Tess� and got tickets for Larry and Kenny to see some Rambo flick. Once they got in the theater, Lainie and Shannon found they were the only ones there. Shannon was still wearing her cheerleader outfit from school, and as they waited for the movie to start, she kicked off her Keds and stretched her legs out over the seat in front of her. Lainie wished that she were a cheerleader and admired the little white footies Shannon wore, that had little pom poms on the back in the team colors. Lainie kicked off her own shoes and stretched her legs as well, although her navy blue school kneesocks were not as cool as Shannon�s. Not long after the house lights went down, Lainie thought she felt someone nudge the back of her seat, but when she looked over her shoulder, there was no one there. She pulled her legs down from the seat in front and went to slip into her shoes, but when her foot reached the floor, she kicked something soft under her chair. The �something� turned out to be Kenny or Larry, she couldn�t tell which, crawling around on the floor. After some commotion, they took off, and predictably, the girl�s shoes had left with them.
They watched the rest of the movie, hoping that the boys would return, but of course, they didn�t. Shannon was furious, and to make matters worse, as they made their way back to the lobby in their socks, Shannon kicked over a half empty soda, soaking her bright white footie sock with red pop. Shannon peeled her sock off in disgust and walked across the sticky floor with one bare foot, calling Larry a �little cock sucker� which was not too far from what Lainie was thinking at the time. but Lainie wasn�t about to let someone say that about her little brother, and they had a big screaming fight, that ended with Shannon running around with her one white footie and one bare foot, crying. Lainie remembered Shannon in her cheerleader outfit, stomping off barefoot across the mall to call her mom for a ride, and Lainie being stranded herself in her socks all afternoon, chasing Larry and Kenny around the mall. Lainie sometimes wondered how her little brother and Kenny could have been so horrible, and then grown up to be such fine men.
�Larry, this is different,� she said. �We were just kids back then,� she added, sounding a little less upset.
�Maybe so,� said Larry, �but what about the time at High School Graduation? Or the fountain at the mall? We were seventeen by then,� he said.
The fountain? She remembered back to High School. Lainie and Kenny had been waiting for Larry, standing against the railing on the upper level of Fairview Mall, when Kenny kicked the back of her clog and sent it flying into the main court, where it landed in the fountain with a giant splash. He had seemed really embarrassed, and said it was an accident, but she had always wondered. Larry had walked up just then, and they just left, because she had been too embarrassed to go get it out of the water. It did seem like Kenny had stared at her feet a lot as they walked through the mall to the exit.
�I don�t know Larry, I mean, I just feel so awkward. I mean really, I�m barefoot in a restaurant,� she said, but she sounded less agitated.
�Lainie, just relax, have yourselves a nice evening, and believe me, he will not be disappointed to learn that you�ve lost your shoe again,� Larry said, �In fact, I bet his reaction is quite the opposite.�
�I-I, well I don�t quite understand,� Lainie said.
�I don�t understand it either,� said Larry, �but that doesn�t mean it isn�t so.�
LAINIE AND ME
I got myself put back together and looked fairly presentable again. Plus, I got my head straight. I was just going to tell her what I did, and then apologize and then leave. Larry would probably never speak to me again when he found out, but that was a separate problem. But why? What if she asked why I did it? I just have a thing for stealing your shoes? I couldn�t really imagine saying that to her, or having her tell that to Larry. I could just tell her I did it to relive my childhood. People spouted that kind of new age bullshit all the time these days.
I looked at Lainie�s satin foot under the table as I approached and slid into the booth. I dropped the shoe on the seat next to me, hiding it under my coat. Lainie looked nervous and the space between us felt awkward and uncomfortable. But she was still so very beautiful, and I hated myself for ruining whatever we had just fifteen minutes ago.
�Lainie, I have to say something,� I said, hearing my voice falter. I drained the Martini the waiter had delivered while I was gone.
�May I tell you about the specials,� the waiter said, appearing suddenly. Saved by the bell. I heard nothing he said, using the time to gather myself again. He left us, promising to return momentarily.
�Lainie,� I started again, but was unable to complete the simple sentence.
�Kenny, I already know,� she said, looking down at her folded hands and sounding very serious.
My heart stopped. I felt so ashamed, and I didn�t really know what to say or do next. I looked straight at my placemat and wondered how I would get through the next few minutes.
�Larry told me,� she said.
Larry? How the hell would Larry know? I had never told anyone about me and the �foot thing� as I had come to think of it.
�The thing is, I feel the same way,� she said, suddenly sounding reassuring.
What the hell was she talking about? What did Larry tell her about me?
�I always thought you were really cute,� she said, astounding me further, �I mean I was always attracted to you, but you were my little brothers friend.� She looked straight at me now. �But Kenny, were not kids anymore we�re adults.�
Adults don�t usually steal each other�s shoes in restaurants, I thought, feeling truly miserable. I had made the biggest mistake of my life tonight, and I wished that I could die right then and there. Get it over with you jerk, I told myself, just tell her, and then get the hell out of here before you start to cry or something and make it even worse.
�Lainie,� I started again, and reached under my coat for the shoe on the seat next to me. �Lainie, I just�� and then the shoe slipped out of my hand, bounced once on the seat cushion, and disappeared underneath the table. I tried to grab it but I missed, and it hit my shoe, landing relatively silently.
�Kenny, you don�t have to say anything,� she said. �All I�m trying to say is that I really like you, I�ve always liked you, and the fact that you and Larry are friends shouldn�t preclude us from having our own relationship, on whatever basis. I talked to Larry and told him exactly that, and he agreed. In fact, he said that you might even feel the same way.�
She squeezed my hand and smiled, obliterating any of the discomfort I had felt a moment ago. We ordered dinner and had the greatest time. We talked about old times and who we had heard from, and all the hometown gossip. It was an incredible evening, and I had almost forgotten about the shoe problem, until we were finished with dessert, and she stood up and came around to sit on my side of the booth. I tried, I really, really tried not to look down, but I just couldn�t help it. It was only for a split second but I had to look. Her elegant stockinged foot rested next to her gleaming grey pump, her lovely toes lightly touching the floor as she gripped the edge of the table. She slid in next to me and leaned against my shoulder.
It�s just so great to see you after all these years,� she said. �I just feel comfortable talking to you, it�s like we�re old friends, I guess because we are.�
We sat there together silently for a long time, and I don�t think I had ever had a moment of happiness that approached that one. We finished some after dinner drinks, and I was glad that we had taken a cab instead of driving.
She turned her face toward me, and I thought we might kiss. I was so nervous, like that schoolboy I had been when I first noticed her beauty. I was wrong about the kiss though.
She whispered in my ear. �I have a secret.�
I turned to look at her, but she looked away, inclining her head toward the far side of the table where she had been sitting. I followed her gaze, and then froze. Her stockinged toes were sticking up just past the edge of the table, and she wiggled them playfully. Her toes were pristine, flawlessly pedicured, and finished in a crimson red that reflected every glint of light that passed through the ultra sheer fabric of her stocking. I was awestruck, and I leaned forward for a closer look. The maitre�D passed by and gave us a sour glance, and she quickly pulled her leg back under the table.
�When we first got here, I slipped my shoe off under the table,� she began, �and it must have fallen between the booths or something, because it�s gone!� With that statement, she began to giggle uncontrollably. �And now, I have to make it all the way back to your hotel without my shoe.�
Her stated final destination was not lost on me.
�How about if I have a look and see if I can find it?� I offered, knowing it was not really lost anymore. �Then I�ll place it on your lovely little foot and take you anywhere you wish to go.�
I stood up and then knelt by the table as she stood along side of me, peering underneath. She sat down in the booth again, her stockinged foot coming to rest right in front of my face. The curve of her heel rounded softly downward before soaring into a high graceful arch that ended just before her magnificent toes. It was going to be a shame to cover such a thing of beauty. I searched briefly for the shoe before coming to a realization. The shoe wasn�t there! I wanted it to be there, I honestly did, I wanted to rescue the damsel in distress I guess, but her shoe just wasn�t there. I looked over at her gorgeous outstretched leg and her perfect stockinged foot, and after lingering there for as long as I thought I possibly could, I stood up.
�I can�t find it,� I said apologetically.
�Well, lucky for me I have an escort this evening, or this could have been a very difficult situation,� she said, standing up again and resting her stockinged toes on top of her remaining shoe.
We made our way through the restaurant and the bar in front. Several curious onlookers glanced at us along the way, but she seemed not to notice them. At the front door, I suggested she wait inside while flagged a taxi.
�Don�t be silly,� she said, gripping my arm firmly and leaning on me. �I�m not worried about the cold, I�m just trying to avoid snagging my stocking on the rough cement.�
She stepped on top of my shoe with her bare foot and kissed me on the cheek. We headed out into the chilly night air and stood on the sidewalk. No taxi came by for quite awhile, but we really didn�t mind the wait.
At the Drake Hotel, the doorman opened the door of the taxi and I climbed out first. She slid across the seat and extended her silken foot like a princess expecting a glass slipper. She grasped my hand and stood up while the doorman opened the lobby door. As we walked through the elegant lobby, she strolled along as though she owned the place, stopping several times to admire the giant floral display in the center of the great room. As she stood next to the giant arrangement, the flowers seemed to be washed out by her radiance. I glanced down at her silken toes on the soft carpet next to her remaining shoe, and it seemed as though the vivid red carpet had gone pale next to her fiery red pedicure. Almost imperceptibly, the tips of her toes brushed the carpet absent mindedly, softly, in the manner that her hand might stroke the head of a kitten.
I watched the golden reflection of her exquisite legs in the polished metal of the elevator doors, as we headed to the sixth floor. I could never describe the night we had after that, except to say that I woke up early and cancelled my return flight. I thought I might like to see a little more of Chicago, maybe even check out some real estate. Lainie and I had breakfast brought up to the room, and after a leisurely morning, I walked her down to the lobby, still in her grey suit and one remaining pump. After promising to meet me for dinner that night, she kissed me goodbye at the top of the stairs and headed out the door.
I took the elevator back to the sixth floor and ran to my room, hoping to catch one more glimpse of her to last me the rest of the day. When I looked out the window, she was standing at the corner of Michigan and Oak Street, her nyloned toes perched on the curb as she retrieved her cell phone out of her large purse.
�Larry, it�s Lainie.�
�It went great Larry! After I talked to you at the restaurant, I just blurted it out. I told him that we were adults, and that we were free to have whatever kind of relationship we both wanted.�
�The shoe? Well that was the weirdest thing. Before I even had a chance to tell him that I had lost it, I was just shifting in my seat and I kicked it under the table. I got it back without him knowing I had lost it, but then I remembered what you said, so I just snagged with my toes and put it in my purse.�
�I know, but you said he wouldn�t be disappointed. I really think he was kind of, you know, into it in a way, leading me around the town like some Cinderella or something.�
�I don�t understand it either Larry but I bet I�ll find out.�
�O.K. I�ll call you later little brother, bye�
�Taxi!� she called, pulling her shoe out of her purse in one motion and waving it above her head. �1555 North Astor,� she told the driver, as she closed the door and slipped her shoe onto her foot.
Snowman
