The Worst Romance Novel Ever Written (18 page)

Johnny smiled at Gloria. “You tell me.”

He wants a story from little ol’ me?
“Um, she’s back in the back working a crossword puzzle while dreaming of getting a deep tissue massage from a tall blond Swedish man named Sven.”

“
And what else?”

He loves to push my buttons.
“It’s just a random idea.”

“
Is that what you would be thinking?”

This man surely likes to probe me. Whoo.
“Um, no. His name would be Antonio, and he’d have really long, strong fingers.”

“
Really?”

Gloria scooted a hip into Johnny’s hip. “Work with me, Johnny. I’m trying to be creative.”

And I’m trying to figure you out,
Johnny thought. “When I was in the shower, I tried to think of the, um, most creative love scenes I could. And you know what? I couldn’t think of anything really weird. I only had Gunn catching a cramp on the bottom of his foot.”

“
Ouch.”

“
What about you?”

Huh?
“What about me?”

“
I mean, um, well … Do you have any ideas about …”

Oh my. Well. Hmm.
“I don’t feel … comfortable telling anyone that sort of thing.”

Johnny said nothing.

“
I mean,” Gloria said, “it was back before I got saved, you know?”
Nice job, Gloria. You’ve just admitted that you’ve had sex.

Gloria is a Christian, a good girl. Why does that thrill me so much?
“Um, well, I got saved when I was little.”

Johnny is a Christian, too? Now a few more things make sense. His writing is innocent because he’s spiritual. This is a nice turn of events.
“I wasn’t crazy wild or anything like that, so I’m not going to be much help.”

Johnny nodded. “Guess my love scenes will just have to suck rocks, huh?”

Gloria shrugged. “We’ll think of something.”

Their meal arrived, and as they ate, Johnny fixated on Gloria’s thighs, and Gloria focused on Johnny’s shoulders. Both of them were hard thinking of that something that didn’t suck rocks.

“
Gloria?” Johnny asked.

“
Yes?”

“
If I’m writing a satire, do I have to satirize everything?”

Gloria nodded. “That’s usually what makes a satire good.”

“
Including, um, sex?”

It’s so hard for him to even say the word. And somehow, I find that utterly charming.
“I guess.”

Johnny dabbed his lips with a napkin. “I’m …” He sighed. “Let me explain it to you this way. You know that movie,
The 40-Year-Old Virgin?
” He winced. “I’m the, um, I’m the prequel.”

Gloria did a super-saved, God-is-good, booth dance in her mind.
I didn’t know that men—scratch that. I didn’t know that
people
like Johnny existed. He’s as rare as a unicorn, as rare a pair of stockings that lasts for more than two Sundays, as rare as a preacher who doesn’t sweat, as rare as—

“
Gloria?”
Her eyes are glazing over,
Johnny thought.
What does that mean?

Gloria found her voice. “Yes?”

“
I need your help.” Johnny eyes popped. “Oh, not with the sex part. I didn’t mean that.” Johnny blushed. “With the writing about sex part.”
Whew, that was close! But why am I still blushing?

She blinked. “You want me to help you with the sex scenes.”

Johnny nodded.
Wait a minute, you idiot!
“I mean, no, um, Gloria. I couldn’t ask you to do that. How rude of me, I mean, I don’t think you’re, um …” He closed his eyes. “I’ve said entirely too much and I’m sorry.”

Hey, he’s right! Who does he think he is, asking me to write about sex when I haven’t …How long has it been? Five years? Well, I am practically a virgin, I mean, twice does not an expert make.
“It’s okay,” Gloria said, fanning herself with her napkin. “I, um, I’ve only …”
I can’t believe I’m about to say this.
“I’m barely experienced, trust me.” She started to giggle. “And here we are …” She continued to giggle. “Here we are trying to write ridiculous sex scenes.” Her giggles became laughter. “And whatever we write will be ridiculous, right? This is so funny!”

Gloria laughed so loudly the table of older women nearest their booth literally jumped in their seats.

“
Johnny,” Gloria swallowed another giggle and whispered, “don’t you ever laugh?”

“
Only in my head,” he said.

“
Well, I’m really glad you’re a Christian, Johnny.” She bit her lip. “I don’t meet that many, um, nice men who aren’t ashamed to say they’re a Christian.”

Johnny looked at her empty plate. “I used to be, um, a good Christian.”

He used to be? Who says they used to be a good Christian?
“What do you mean?”

Johnny placed his napkin on his plate. “I’m, um, sure you need to get some sleep, so …”

Gloria looked at her empty plate.
Why’d I eat so fast? Oh yeah. I was nervous. And now I’m even more nervous. I’m sitting next to the Holy Grail of men, who now says he used to be a good Christian and obviously wants to leave.
“Um, yeah. And, um, you have lots of writing to do.”

“
Yeah.”

Johnny turned to Gloria, hoping that a bit of egg or toast clung to her lips. He saw nothing but Gloria’s delicious-looking lips. “Well, um, this meal’s on me. I had a very good night.” He leaned his face close to hers. “Thanks to you.”

And now he’s leaning in for a kiss.
“You can kiss me,” Gloria whispered, “but wait till I say when.”

Johnny held his position. “Waiting, mainly for an explanation.”

“
I want you to kiss me as soon as that old lady—now.” Gloria turned her head to catch Johnny’s lips with her own. “Don’t stop,” she said from the right side of her mouth.

Johnny wasn’t about to stop, even putting his hands around Gloria’s waist and sneaking in a little tongue.

Gloria pulled away.
Wow wow wow wow …
“Um, she’s not having the heart attack I expected her to have.”
Surprise kisses are so nice!

Johnny looked across the dining room for the old lady. “I don’t see her.”

Gloria kissed his cheek. “There was no old lady, Johnny.”

“
Oh.”
Sneaky!

“
I didn’t want our first kiss to be a peck on the cheek.”
I just didn’t expect it to be so intense!

“
And it wasn’t.”

She squeezed his hand. “And if you keep asking me out for breakfast, I’ll get fat.”

He squeezed back. “I doubt that. I wonder if there are any little old ladies out in the parking lot.”

Gloria again checked the time on her cell phone. “There might be. I have to catch the bus.”

“
I can drive you home.”

Scary to say, but the city bus is safer.
“I know, it’s just … I’m a creature of habit, I guess.”

Johnny nodded. “Develop it slowly, no rushing.”

“
Right.”

“
In good time.” He kissed her cheek. “See you later tonight?”

“
You better.”
I have to find out how you used to be a good Christian! After I kiss you more.

Johnny tipped their waitress with some of his tip money, paid the bill, and walked Gloria to the bus stop, which was merely a sign beside busy Colonial Avenue.

“
You don’t have to wait with me,” Gloria said.

“
I want to,” Johnny said.

“
I mean, it’s not as if there are any old ladies I want to shock to death out here.”

“
I know.” He pulled her to him and gave her a simple hug. “I’ll see you tonight, and I’ve always liked the cherry ones the best.”

“
I’ll remember that.” Gloria opened her purse and pulled out the fifteenth napkin, slipping it into his jacket pocket. “Don’t read it until you get home.”

“
Okay.”

“
Promise?”

“
Promise.”

When the bus arrived and the door opened, Johnny didn’t want to let go of Gloria. A little old lady drove the bus, however, and Gloria laid a long juicy kiss on him. The bus sped away leaving Johnny’s lips drying in the exhaust smoke, leaves and McDonalds wrappers drifting around his feet.

This,
Johnny thought,
is real romance.

16

Johnny replayed the events of the last six hours and declared them surreal.

Gloria had replaced the sting of her criticism with the warmth of two sneaky kisses. He had gotten a hug. He had heard Gloria’s juicy, real laugh. He had looked at her face, her entire face. He had also looked at her entire body on their breakfast date and declared it soft, sensuous, and serene.

And now, she was helping him to write a ridiculous book.

He lay on his bed and smiled, the “Get counseling, you freak!” sign no longer affecting him as much.
She didn’t react like other women when I told them I was a virgin. Other women asked me, “Why?” And I still don’t have a decent answer. I just am that’s all. I’m not trying to make any statement. I’m not in the abstinence movement. I’m just … waiting for the right person to come into my life, that’s all.

Ah, who am I kidding? I’m still not ready.

Gloria, though. I have to hand it to her. She didn’t question me at all. She did laugh, though. But it wasn’t a derisive, “Oh, I can see why” kind of laugh. I wish I had said root beer Dum-Dums were my favorite since they’re kind of her color, she’s bubbly and sweet, and she’s even kind of frothy when she laughs.

Johnny felt content and even happy for the first time in a long time, even though it was obvious that slow and sure would lead to a stronger relationship with Gloria. There would be time for all that and more in the future. The Moment, with a capital M, would present itself, they would agree that the Moment had arrived, and they would enjoy the Moment to its fullest. Then they would rest in each other’s arms, and—

Johnny remembered the napkin in his pocket. He found it, and as he read it, he realized that Gloria had already described the Moment:

“
Two completely clothed, sober, well-rested people alone in a small space … some small talk, maybe a backrub … a kiss … a laugh … a longer kiss … roving hands … ‘It’s getting hot in here’ … removing one item of clothing at a time, starting with the wedding dress … explorations … skin on skin … to the couch or to the floor or wherever the spirit moved them … steamy …

‘
Are you ready?’ … ‘Oh yes’ … bliss.”

Gloria’s simple description wired him, thrilled him, and kept him from even thinking about sleep. He sat at his laptop with his notes, the manuscript, and the last napkin and began to type: “Meanwhile at the Quick-E Mart, Gloria hastily set aside cherry Dum-Dums—”

He deleted the phrase.
Gloria doesn’t do anything hastily.
He tried again: “Across town at Señor Pizza, Hector dreamed of Guatemala while Gloria set one cherry Dum-Dum aside on the Quick-E Mart counter for Johnny, the worst romance novelist ever born.”

Better,
Johnny thought.
And most likely true.

“
But Johnny couldn’t sleep,” he typed, “couldn’t even drowse, because he couldn’t stop daydreaming of interesting, slow hands, Gloria’s soft body, and the bliss yet to come.”

That’s not half-bad,
Johnny thought.
Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

17