Barney Trammel couldn't believe his luck when his roommate sold him the tandem bicycle. Barney and Sheila Troxel planned to be married in a month and every penny counted.
If it had not been for the impending marriage, Barney would have preferred a new car, or at the very least a respectable used one like the 1958 silver Oldsmobile Roadster with the hydramatic transmission he saw only yesterday over at Lemmon's lot. It was $475, a good buy, but it was out of the question at the moment -- he had responsibilities now; the wedding was only a month away and the engagement ring was still unpaid for. Then there was the furniture to buy and the apartment had to be painted.
In spite of his financial problems, Barney was so deeply in love he would wake up in a cold sweat two or three times a night thinking of Sheila. At work in his father's haberdashery, he would find himself staring into space and thinking of her. His father would ask him, "Are you all right Barney?" Barney would sigh and smile vaguely into the distance, and his father would shake his head in sympathy mixed with a touch of envy. He too could remember a time, not so many years ago, when he was single -- he would often catch himself dreaming of the present Mrs. Trammel. "How quickly it passed," he would mutter quietly to himself -- quietly enough so Mrs. Trammel could not hear. Then, in a louder voice, so that all three of them could hear, he would comment, "It will be a blessing to both of us when you're married, Barney."
It would be pushing it to say with any degree of confidence that Sheila felt as strongly about Barney as he did about her. Very few women reveal their emotions as openly as men do. Like a dog, a man will lick its master's hand whether its master is kind to it or not, while a woman, like a cat, will often give short shrift to hers regardless of his kindnesses. Sheila was acutely aware of her effect on Barney, and she parceled out her charms as though they were made of gold. The technique increased Barney's desire to an alarming degree; he was frequently tongue-tied and clumsy in her presence. Ever the romantic, Barney had fallen in love unconditionally and as sloppily and clumsily as a puppy in a pet shop window. After a date or two, Sheila moved his classification from 'possible' to 'likely,' (one step below 'probable').
Sheila was an out-of-town girl, a career girl -- a shorthand stenographer on the staff of the State Senator from McCibben County. When she first arrived, she planned to move in with two other women on his staff. Then she noticed the abundance of eligible young men in town. Quite by accident, she met Barney at his father's haberdashery and checked him off as a possible -- but far from a probable, all the while keeping him at arm's length -- a practice she learned from her mother. Sharing a lease with the ladies on the Senator's staff was put on the back burner, so she chose the respectable boarding house for ladies run by the rock-ribbed Imogene Landlock. The house was highly recommended by the Senator and Parson Peavey, the minister of the Presbyterian Church.
Barney called at Mrs. Landlock's boarding house every Sunday. The parlor was available for entertaining male visitors during the weekend daylight hours. However, Mrs. Landlock would burst in unannounced at irregular intervals to see that things were not getting out of hand. The boarding house had an impeccable reputation for safeguarding the chastity and virtue of the young ladies who boarded there, and their comings and goings, (as well as doings) were under constant watch.
Mrs. Landlock issued no house keys to her lady boarders. She would sniff loudly and shake a warning finger .... "Keys can be copied you know." The girls had to be in at a decent hour, an hour decent enough that Mrs. Landlock herself would be awake to answer the door. Ten pm was the hour she deemed proper. If a young lady, for reasons of career or a late movie, found herself standing under the wrought iron portico past that hour, she would be reprimanded in no uncertain terms by Mrs. Landlock, (who would appear in a gray lace wrapper with her hair in a net). "Proper young ladies do not wander the streets in the middle of the night." The girl's parents, (who chose Mrs. Landlock's boarding house for young ladies for this reason) would be notified of their daughter's late arrival.
Sitting in the parlor with Sheila on Sunday afternoons in the company of two or three other couples was torture for Barney. There were no sofas. She would sit in one antimacassar-covered easy chair and he would sit in another. From this remote and almost clinical distance, he would stare at her lovingly and try to make conversation. If it was quiet too long, Mrs. Landlock would launch herself into the room saying, "Oh! Sorry to interrupt -- I thought you folks had left."
The bicycle built for two would give them the freedom to pedal to Cherry Hill park for the afternoon and even into the early evening if things worked out the way Barney planned. In the park, they could hold hands, walk by the lake, and even indulge in a little controlled petting on the woolen blanket he had folded neatly and crammed into the bicycle's pannier.
Sheila would have preferred a movie and an early dinner at Finnegan's Cafe. There, she could have worn her new gray tweed suit and even smoked a cigarette in the ebony and gold cigarette holder that took her fancy at the novelty shop near her place of employment. A bicycle meant slacks and a sweater, and for nourishment, a frankfurter with a coke at the hot dog stand. In addition, she would have to keep Barney under control all afternoon while sitting on a musty blanket spread out over the pigeon droppings in Cherry Hill Park.
Barney was well aware that Sheila would not be enthusiastic about sharing Sunday afternoon on a tandem bicycle. It is not a ladylike means of locomotion, therefore he was thoughtful enough to find a lambs' wool seat cover to protect that part of her anatomy that had been giving him so many sleepless nights of late. He would ride the rear seat, and do the lion's share of pedaling. This would give Sheila the choice of the route through the park and give her a chance to enjoy the scenery.
He showed up at Mrs. Landlock's boarding house early, looking very respectable in his rather full Bermuda shorts showing his legs only from his knobby knees down and his bright green sport shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the bulge of his biceps. He also wore a rather smart safari hat with colorful fishing flies embedded in the crown. Mrs. Landlock answered the door and looked him over critically -- she could find nothing disgraceful in his appearance, ludicrous perhaps, which, on the face of it, might be something she should write to Sheila's parents about. Furthermore, the tandem bicycle had beaver tails on the handlebars. She made a mental note to include that bit of information in the letter as well.
"Bicycle riding on a Sunday! Really Mr. Trammel, you can't expect a lady of breeding to pedal around town on a bicycle .... particularly on a Sunday afternoon!"
"But it's healthful, Mrs. Landlock. There are hundreds of folks pedaling through the park. Wholesome families out for the afternoon -- far better than sitting in a stuffy parlor .... no offense ma'am."
"Well!" she retorted, "you'd never catch me on one of those things, and I dare say when Miss Troxel's parents hear of it, they will not be pleased!"
Sheila appeared in the doorway behind her dressed in white linen slacks and a pink sweater. She wore a broad brimmed straw hat tied securely under her chin.
"We shan't be long, Mrs. Landlock. I think perhaps the fresh air will be good for me." She looked sternly at Barney. "I'll be back long before dinner, I promise." She smiled grimly, "I'll probably be famished."
"It will be mutton, my dear."
"I certainly wouldn't want to miss that, Mrs. Landlock."
Mrs. Landlock stood with her meaty arms folded across her chest as the two mounted up and pushed off. They gathered enough speed to lift their feet and grope awkwardly for the pedals -- then, after a quick fleeting wave of her hand, Sheila grasped the handlebars in a grip of iron.
"Comfortable?" Barney asked.
"Not entirely."
Barney was not at the helm; his only assignment was to pump steadily and offer advice. His attention was riveted on Sheila's backside. Her sweater had ridden up an inch or two, leaving a band of creamy yet well-toned flesh almost at the end of his nose. The curve of her lumbar vertebrae oscillated gently before him, and there was a delectable quarter inch of blue silk underpants visible just above the belt line of her slacks. He was extremely uncomfortable.
"I'm not sure this was a good idea, Sheila."
"It was your idea. You wanted an afternoon in the park, I didn't -- I wanted to see the new Paul Newman movie. What's the matter with you anyway?"
"Would you mind if I rode up front, Sheila? I'll put the cushion on the back seat." They stopped on the bicycle path just inside the park entrance and Barney made the exchange, Sheila all the while shaking her head and tapping her foot impatiently as he moved the cushion from the front seat to the back.
It wasn't until they mounted up again and got underway that Sheila realized what bothered Barney. It hadn't occurred to her before, but she realized she gained another powerful weapon in her arsenal. The simplicity of men! She watched with calm appraisal the inch or two of his muscular back as he pumped the pedals in front of her -- it was hairy, like the back of an animal. Yes -- Barney was far from perfect, but she was sure she could make a decent husband out of him. Her mother had told her long ago -- no man is a natural born husband, dear, they've got to be made.
They spent the afternoon wisely. Sheila kept Barney's attention riveted on the wedding and her plans for a modest reception. His frequent suggestions that they investigate the nature trails in the woods were countered with prudence and promises. "You'll be so glad we waited, Barney. I will be all the woman you can handle -- but it will be so much sweeter ...." etcetera....etcetera.
It was late afternoon when Barney put the bags down and fished in his pocket for the key. The honeymoon was over.
He was still seething about the taxi driver. He turned to Sheila and grumbled, "They said it would be $28.50 when I made the reservation. That's what they said, right?"
"Oh, Barney -- don't fuss. It was a lovely honeymoon, wasn't it?"
"I suppose so, first one for me." He unlocked the door and pushed it open. The living room blinds had been pulled down to the windowsills, and it was dark, musty smelling and almost forbidding. "I'll get the lights, Sheila -- don't come in. We don't know where anything is -- we'll fall over something."
He found the wall switch, and Sheila gasped. "Mother! She's got the sofa on the wrong wall -- and look at that oak chair. That belongs in the bedroom. Before we do anything else Barney, we've got to put this room straight."
Barney collapsed on the sofa. "Let it go 'til tomorrow Sheila -- tomorrow. I'm bushed -- I got up at four this morning.
Sheila stared critically at the sofa. "It looks a lot different here than it did in the store, a different blue."
"It was the lights," Barney said sleepily, "the showroom had fluorescent lights." He yawned and pulled off his shoes. "Fluorescent lights make everything look green."
"I suppose I'll get used to it. It was nice of mother, wasn't it? She spent a week here in the empty apartment waiting for the furniture."
"What else does she have to do?"
"Really, Barney! Give her credit for that at least." Sheila threw her arms wide as if to embrace the entire living room. "It's ours, Barney, all ours. Our first apartment. We're really and truly married. Aren't you glad we waited?"
"For what?"
"I think you know 'what.' If you had your way we'd .... anyway, I'm glad we waited. It was all the sweeter, Barney. It was a beautiful honeymoon. Whoever heard of a honeymoon in Nova Scotia in April? It rained every day."
"The sun came out one afternoon, I remember -- I looked out the window one afternoon and the sun was out." Barney got wearily to his bare feet and pattered his way out to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and swore softly.
"What's the matter, Barney?"
"Two little things of yogurt, a jar of mustard and a loaf of damn gluten bread. You think she might of left something to eat!" He walked to the wall phone and dialed 'operator.' "I need a number for Domino's, sweetheart -- nearest one to area code 11514."
Sheila, still enraptured appeared at the kitchen door. "I'm so glad we waited, Barney. As the years go by we'll think back to this day, our first day in our own home as man and wife, and ...."
"Thank you, operator. Can you get that number for me?" He sat down carefully on one of the two new kitchen chairs and put his feet up on the new kitchen table. A reproving glance from Sheila made him sit up straight again and put his feet on the floor. "Hi! Name's Trammel, 37 Lilac Way apartment 3-C .... I want a large pie with double cheese, anchovies and mushrooms. .... 20 minutes? -- $16.50? -- you gotta deal -- Oh, wait a minute; half liter of coke and a bottle of Bud, okay?"
"You're so masterful, Barney." Sheila sat on Barney's outstretched legs, put her arms around his neck and locked her fingers. "Aren't you glad we waited?"
He looked at her as a man might look at a woman who was not his wife. "Yes and no, Sheila. Yes and no. On balance I'd say mostly no." He held her so she couldn't get up. "Before you blow up, let me say something, okay?"
"What?"
"We could have been just as happy six months ago. We would have had a six month head start on happiness. Think of it, Sheila -- when we're wheeled in and out of the old folks home sixty years from now and somebody says --'here's six more months of wedded bliss,' how would that sound to you?"
Sheila was smart enough to know when to drop it -- she'd get him to admit it some day. She slid out of his grip and opened the refrigerator. "I can't believe Mother would leave us an empty refrigerator -- she must have known we'd come back hungry." She saw a bottle of champagne in a slot in the door. "Look, there's champagne. You didn't see that, did you?"
"I saw it -- I was looking for something to eat."
"Let's have some now, before the pizza comes. To celebrate our first night."
"No glasses."
"We have glasses. We bought glasses, they must be up here somewhere." She opened a closet above the sink. "Here," she said. "Here's two glasses."
"You can't drink champagne out of water tumblers, Sheila. It just isn't done." He smiled evilly .... "You'll be glad you waited."
"Never mind that. Work the cork open -- I want some champagne now."
"First comes the pizza, Sheila -- then you can have the champagne."