The Trojan Lasagna

"I know what you're thinking, but I have to do what's best for the kids. They miss their father, and want him home."

Finally, I was able to recover from my shock long enough to ask, "Rosalie, what about us? You were my first real girlfriend, my first love, my first time. I..." My throat choked up, I couldn't say anything else.

"Josh, you've been so wonderful to me and the kids. I wouldn't change anything about the time we spent together. I was in pieces from Robert leaving me, and you...you rebuilt my self-esteem and put my pieces back together. I will always love you for that, but I can't love you the way you love me. I'm sorry. You deserve someone better than me."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt dizzy. "But Rosalie, you don't understand, my future plans all included you and the kids!"

"I'm so sorry, Josh, but I am still married. I have Etta and Jayden to think about. Robert and I have a lot of work to do to fix our marriage, but he's promised he'll do whatever therapy it takes to earn my forgiveness and staying married to me. I have to give him a chance."

I wanted to lash out and say 'Oh, yeah, just like he promised to forsake all others in your wedding vows?', but I couldn't. Broken up or not, this was Rosalie. I couldn't be cruel to her.

As I stood there on the brink of tears, she took me in her arms and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Josh. I'll never forget you." Before I could even react, she let go of me and was gone.

Zombie-like, I turned and walked back into my parent's house. I was in such a state of shock that just putting one foot in front of the other took as much effort as I could muster. My Mom saw me as I came in, and I must have looked like hell because her eyes went wide. She immediately asked, "Josh, what's wrong?"

Bitterness now began to flood my feelings. I snapped, "Congratulations, you and Dad got your wish. Rosalie just told me her husband wants to reconcile, so she's decided to get back together with him. Things are over between us, just like you wanted. I hope you're happy."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." I was pretty sure Mom said that only because she thought it was the right thing to say, not because she meant it.

I was having none of that. "Yeah, right, now you both get to say you told me so. You guys said you were supportive, but it was all bullshit, wasn't it? Well go ahead and laugh. Once I move out, I'm never coming back. I don't need your money. I have my scholarships and my savings." I was hurt and angry, so was not really thinking through the words coming out of my mouth.

Mom was crushed by my words, I could tell. She tried to argue, "Josh, no, Dad and I won't laugh at you. We weren't keen on your relationship, but didn't think it could work out is all. We didn't want to see you hurt."

Somehow it made sense to blame them for being a part of it, as if their lukewarm endorsement of Rosalie had caused things to fail. I lashed out at her, "You could have been more supportive! You and the old man acted like Rosalie was some crack-addicted prostitute!"

My mother protested, "Oh, no, honey, it wasn't like that at all..."

"You don't need me, you already have my perfect brother who's marrying the perfect fiancée that you approve of. The minute the door slams behind me, you'll forget I was even born." I knew this wasn't exactly true, but I was hurting. I left Mom standing in the hallway, on the verge of tears looking crushed. Thinking a hot shower might somehow clear my head, I walked into the bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the water.

Standing in the shower, the depth of my heartbreak finally sunk in. I began crying, and kept on until I'd used up all the hot water. Now emotionally drained, I dried off and went to bed.

As I laid there, I turned on my AM band clock radio and tuned in station WLS, thinking that maybe some music might calm me down. Alas, this was not to be. The station was playing a new song from Skid Row, I Remember You:

"Woke up to the sound of pouring rain, washed away a dream of you

But nothing else could ever take you away, 'cause you'll always be my dream come true

Remember yesterday, walking hand in hand...I remember you..."

The next song they played, an oldie from Dobie Gray called Loving Arms, was no improvement. Instead, it felt more like a knife in the heart:

"If you could hear me now, singing somewhere through the lonely night.

Dreaming of the arms that held me tight. If you could only hear me now..."

I was hoping the next song would be better, but no such luck. A song by the J. Geils band, it was appropriately titled Love Stinks:

"And so it goes, 'til the day you die, this thing they call love's gonna make you cry

I've had the blues, the reds and the pinks, one thing for sure, love stinks..."

Groaning, I gave up and turned the radio off. I pulled the pillow over my head, hoping to smother myself to death. Needless to say, I was disappointed to find myself still alive when I woke up the next day. Damn it, I just couldn't catch a break.

I got dressed and shuffled to the kitchen, automatically poured myself a cup of coffee and made some oatmeal. Sitting at the table I realized I had no appetite, so I got into a staring contest with my breakfast. It won. I tossed it into the garbage as revenge, then went outside and got into the Galaxie. There wasn't much happening this time of year, so I figured I'd do what most other kids in little Fairburn did: get in the car and drive around mindlessly.

My dad's truck was gone, so I assumed he'd headed for work. This was fine, as I'd said everything I needed to say and had no desire to rehash it with him. I noticed my car's gas tank was low, so I headed for the service station. There was only one station in town, a Sunoco station, and it was located deep on the West side, since heaven forbid any West-siders should be inconvenienced by having to drive their fancy cars to get gas on the 'poor side of town'. As I stood there holding the nozzle and trying not to think about Rosalie, my mind was wandering. Then, I heard a familiar voice.

"Hey there, handsome. What's a good-looking man like you doing over here?" I looked up, and saw Donna Landecker at the pump across from mine. Then I looked around, thinking she may have been speaking to someone else. "I'm talking to YOU, Josh Lujack! Are you deliberately ignoring me now?"

Shit! I might have just insulted Donna, which I would never ever do! As she walked up to me I explained, "Donna, no, I'm glad to see you, really! When you said 'handsome', I thought you were talking to somebody else." She was standing right in from of me now, and took my chin in her hand.

"I meant what I said, Mr. Lujack, and hell yes I was talking to you." She was wearing a blue denim skirt, with a yellow silk blouse and matching blue denim jacket, carrying a clutch purse. My nose caught a light whiff of her perfume. She looked -- and smelled -- amazing. "So what are you doing with yourself these days?" She let go of my chin.

"Oh, you know, working part-time at Goldman's Florists, and packing up to go to Chicago University in the fall."

"So you decided to go away for college and not attend one nearby?" Ouch, she'd just touched a fresh wound.

I tried to answer completely, but "No, I was only going to do that if Rosalie and I..." was about as far as I got before being overcome by sadness, and lowered my gaze to the concrete at my feet.

Donna's voice was nothing but sympathetic. "Ah! Yes, Rosalie called this morning and told me Shithead came back to beg her forgiveness and work things out. I figured she'd given you the heave-ho. That's a damned shame. She made a terrible choice if you ask me. I'm honestly disappointed; I thought she had way more sense than that. You'd have been twice the husband that Shithead is, and smarter than him on top of it."

Suddenly, the rational part of my brain slapped the emotional part upside the head; it needed to stop being sad and pay attention. Something was happening, something important! Rosalie may have given me the bum's rush out of her life, but Donna -- tall, elegant, and wonderful-smelling -- Donna the amazing woman who'd always treated me like a real man -- was standing right in front of me, telling me in no uncertain terms I was handsome, smart, and good husband material. Helloooooo? Anybody home in Josh Lujack's head?

I realized I couldn't let this moment slip away, so I raised my head, took her hand in mine and blurted out, "Donna-can-I-please-take-you-out-to dinner-sometime?" Since I'd been on a losing streak over the last few days, I held my breath and braced myself for a refusal. Like the rest of my life lately, though, the results were unexpected.

Donna gave me a smile about as bright as a nighttime spotlight on a police helicopter and replied, "Why Josh, I'd love to have dinner with you. In fact, I'd be hard-pressed to think of anyone else I'd rather go have dinner with."

Taking a pen out of her clutch purse, she wrote her cell number on the back of my hand. Good thing, because if she'd written on my palm, it would have washed away from the sudden palm sweat I was experiencing. "Call me when you decide on the date, and I'll let you pick the place. It doesn't have to be fancy, just whatever you'd enjoy. I'm not as interested in the food as I am in your companionship." Then she kissed my cheek, and added, "Don't wait too long to call. You're a real gentleman, and a gentleman never keeps a girl waiting."

As I drove home, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted form my shoulders. I realized by not letting go, I'd been prolonging my own misery. The conversation with Donna had opened my eyes and made me accept the fact Rosalie was now forever in my past. I turned on my car radio, and WLS started playing Vixen's Edge of A Broken Heart. As I sang along with it, I felt closure:

"I've been doing things your way too long, but baby that's over;

It won't be easy but I gotta be strong, and if I wanna cry I don't need your shoulder..."

I recalled the time my brother Terry went through a bad breakup. I overheard one of his friends consoling him, saying "The best way to get over somebody is to be under somebody else." He took the advice and started dating again, which is when he met Janine.

Now here I was, about to have dinner with Donna. She was probably my mother's age, but so what? This woman was kind, funny, drop-dead gorgeous and sexy as hell. Plus, there was no avoiding how she made me feel like a real man. For the first time in weeks, I was feeling optimistic. This just might be fun.

~To Be Continued in The Trojan Lasagna: Second Helping~