Every Saturday morning, Nigel and Madge walked the five minutes from their house to The Cup
& Saucer for breakfast. Nigel always took his eggs poached with rye toast,
baked beans, and a small glass of tomato juice, onto which he sprinkled black
pepper and stirred with his fork. He took his coffee black with one sugar.
Madge drank tea and moved around the menu. Waffles one week. An omelet the
next. A fruit plate here, a pancake there. She teased Nigel, calling him a
"breakfast snob." She thought he should be more adventurous and try
new things. All he would ever say to that was, "I like the way they poach
the eggs here."
Nigel and Madge
had been married for 22 years. They'd started dating in high school when Nigel
had romanced Madge with Twix candy bars, games of gin rummy, and Brut 33
cologne.
Neither of them
had much money, so most afternoons Nigel and Madge could be found at Nigel's
house, playing gin rummy and eating Twix candy bars. Nigel's mother bought them
by the box. Madge would bite off a piece, separate the cookie from the layer of
caramel and chocolate with her teeth and tongue, slide the biscuit to one side of her mouth,
chew and swallow it, then suck the caramel and chocolate for up to several
minutes. She could make a single Twix cookie last an hour.
One Friday night
in November, Nigel invited Madge to dinner, along with his friend, Eddie and
Eddie's girlfriend, Marina. Nigel's mother and younger brother, Michael, had
eaten earlier. Michael had then gone to a sleep over and Nigel's mother was
meeting some friends and wouldn't be back till late.
On his mother's
advice, Nigel had served a simple menu: salad, pasta and bread from the bakery
where he worked. Ice cream for dessert. Nigel crumbled up pieces of Twix into
it. The only thing was, Madge arrived but Eddie and Marina never showed.
Madge was never
sure whether Nigel had actually invited Eddie and Marina at all, or if the ploy
had been the necessary prelude to his "big move." He and Madge had
been dating now for several months and although they'd gone at it pretty hot
and heavy at times, they still hadn't gone the whole
enchilada. They hadn't had much opportunity. At Nigel's house, his brother was
always around, or there was always the chance that his mother would switch
shifts with someone at work and suddenly arrive home at 4, instead of her usual
6. Madge had three younger siblings and a father who yelled almost constantly;
the situation was far worse at her house.
They ate by
candlelight in the dining room. She usually slurped up spaghetti at home,
sucking in individual strands and sending tomato sauce spray everywhere, but
that night, she carefully twisted the noodles onto her spoon. Nigel had bought
two bottles of wine, cheap reds, which they downed like grape juice. They were
both drunk by the time dinner was over.
They cleared the
table together, then Nigel lit a fire and they sat together in the family room
in the dark, watching the flames. Before long they were making out, first on
the couch, then on the floor. Nigel was wearing cologne that night, Brut 33,
Madge learned later, when she lay back in the sheets of Nigel's bed and spotted
the green bottle on his dresser. She snuggled
into his armpit, poked her cold nose, like a dog, into his neck and breathed
deeply. The smell of him mixed with the cologne stayed on her hands for hours.
This Saturday
morning, Nigel and Madge, as they always did, walked the five-minute walk to
The Cup & Saucer. On the way, Madge talked about what she felt like eating.
"I can't
decide whether I'm in a waffle mood or a French toast mood."
"Have
both."
"There's no
option for that on the menu."
Nigel thought,
That's never stopped you before.
At The Cup &
Saucer Connie took Madge's order.
"Sure, hon,
no problem. You want whipped cream and fruit with ‘em?"
"On the
side, please."
Nigel's right
eyebrow flickered ever so slightly.
Connie turned to
Nigel. "Poached with rye and beans."
She didn't wait
for him to reply and was turning away from the table when Nigel said,
"Actually..."
A stunned Connie
left the table to get their coffee and tea and Nigel turned to face an even
more stunned Madge.
"Sunny side
up? With bacon?"
Madge thought,
Who is she?
An image of Norah
flashed into Nigel's mind's. He made a mental note to pick up a bottle of Brut
33.
"Honey,"
he sighed, opening up the newspaper, "You're the one who's always telling
me to be more adventurous."
