Moose and Goose

Chapter Seventy-six

"I didn't fight her for you, so don't get all hot over it." Judith folds her arms, and he walks closer. She lifts her right hand, and he stops behind her box television. "What do you want, David?"

"I wanna take you out." She raises an eyebrow as best as she can, though her forehead is stiff. "Like, Red Lobster or – that soul food joint near the movies."

"Are you stupid?" His smile immediately drops, and while scanning him with contempt, she scoffs. "I'm not going anywhere with you. We kiss once, and you think everything's okay."

"I said I'm sorry," David raises his voice, and she straightens her face then glances at the darkness upstairs. "What more do you want from me? Should I get on my knees and beg? God-damn!"

"Quit yelling before you wake my Mom up," she orders him in a softer voice, and Stevie stands at the railing, looking down at them.

"Judy, I don't give a fuck if Sharon wakes up." Judith huffs from her nose with her lips sealed tightly.

"You need to leave." They turn their heads to her younger brother, and David kisses his teeth while rolling his eyes. He throws his hand at Stevie, dismissing him. "Leave before I kill you!"

"Whoa!" Judy veers her body to him when David gives her a look of disbelief, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. "Stevie, get to your room – now!"

He pushes off the railing, and as he storms toward his bedroom, she takes heavy breaths. David folds his arms, lowers his head, and licks his lips.

"Now about that date. Get ready now, and we can pretend that didn't happen." She meets his stern face, and she swallows over the lump at the back of her throat.

***

String lights drape against the walls like Christmas lights, but instead of winter colors, they're dim red and orange.

"You look beautiful," David tells Judith, admiring the black blouse hugging her petite frame and the white and black striped skirt accentuating her hips. Instead of responding, she draws her arms across her chest for comfort and averts her eyes to their reflection in the window. "Thank you for agreeing to be with me tonight."

"Whatever. It's not like I had a choice." When he smirks, his eyes bounce onto the raven-haired white woman tending the bar.

"Well, that may be true," he begins as he returns to her. She glares at him out of her peripheral, and he says, "but I still appreciate it. Seeing you prettied up reminds me how things were, and I miss that. I miss you."

"You miss controlling me." David rolls his eyes, and she doesn't notice the malice creeping onto his face. "Mary's too white for you. I already knew, and so did you, but like her and all the women before her – before me – they're like pawns on your board. You played with her, wiggled her in my face to make me jealous, then tossed her aside when you thought there was an opening, but the sick part is that a sane man would've left because she's batshit."

"She may have a few screws loose, but at least she's compliant. All you do is bitch and moan like you're doing right now," he whisper yells while leaning against the table, his voice rising and falling as he struggles to remain calm.

"I know what you're doing, and it won't work. I'm on cloud nine." Judith cracks a smile, and he narrows his eyes as if her calm demeanor took him by surprise. "You can sleep with her as much as your heart desires. Marry her if you want to, but I'm doing fine, and I have my eyes on someone good."

"You mean that walrus you're always around?" She scrunches her face, and he sucks his teeth as he reclines in his seat. "Please, he wouldn't even date you if I held a gun to his head. I'm crazy, and you're crazy. That's why we're perfect for each other."

"Here are your drinks." A burly man – with wispy golden waves that stop at his shoulders – sits two Coca-Cola glasses on the table between them. "You ready to order?"

He wipes his hands on his apron and whips out a notepad and pen from the pouch, darting his dark brown eyes between them.

"I'll have a rare steak, mashed potatoes, and gravy in separate bowls," David says without looking away from Judy. The waiter quickly writes his choice, and he says, "and for her, she'll have a small salad."

"Just the salad?" He glares at the server when he asks as if his voice suddenly annoyed him, and they lock eyes for a moment.

Judith shakes her head and says, "I don't want a salad, David."

"You'll eat what I say!" He slams his hand against the table, and she jumps in her seat, her stomach gurgling. The blond parts his lips to speak, but nothing comes out. He blinks three times, then stares at his notepad.

"I'll be back with your food." David watches him walk away, and he sits his elbows on either side of his cup, planting his face in his palms and exhaling from shame.

Judith stares upward at the crescent moon hiding behind clouds, and as he pulls away, he groans.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Judy." He drags his hand down his face to wipe away the rest of his embarrassment, but it's etched in place. "All you had to do was sit there and be quiet. I'm the one with the money paying for this shit, and you're complaining."

"I didn't want a salad," she mumbles, and he scrunches his face.

"I don't care what you didn't want. You're getting fat." Her stomach drops at his statement, and she focuses on him. He watches her eyes grow wide from worry, and her mouth drops slightly. "Yeah, I noticed. You used to be a fox, and now – I can't even look at you without feeling disgusted. Imagine what my folks and buddies would think if they saw you wearing a size four dress; That's embarrassing."

"I'm sorry." His harsh comments leave her feeling heavier in her seat, like a weight dropped onto her shoulders.

Though they're almost the same height, he made her feel smaller, and all she wants is for the seat or the Earth to swallow her whole. Or to wake up from this nightmare.

"Don't be." He shakes his head again, pursing his lips. Judith reaches her hand under her skirt, and a stabbing pain rushes through her thighs when she pinches herself. "I'm only doing what's best for you because whether you realize this or not, that fat fuck would only date you to make himself feel better. If he got you to a size six, it'll take away from the fact that he'll otherwise die alone."

"You don't know that." Her eyes and upper chest burn like she's near an open flame. He tilts his head as if his assumption is obvious and trails her body with his eyes before bringing them back to hers.

"Judith, I'm a man, okay? I know how us men think, and I've yet to meet one with sense who'll go any higher than a size two." David watches her drop her head, and he sighs. "Listen, we can easily get you back in shape while you're – somewhat pretty – but you have to do as I say. We can start early tomorrow morning."

I can't. I have to see Juniper.

"Here are your meals." They watch another server lower their plates in front of them, and her body tenses when she recognizes him. His hair is short like bore bristles, and his piercing eyes lock on hers, making her heart pound against her chest like it wants to escape.

The skin above her nose bridge contracts as she takes labored breaths, and phantom sweat pricks the back of her neck and underarms.

"Could we get some straws and cutlery," David asks, unaware of her emotional state. Judith scoots closer to her window with her glossy eyes trained on the tall man who held her at gunpoint, and he nods.

"Sure thing," he drones, fixated on her. Tears rush down her cheeks, and when they reach her chin, he walks toward the bar, yet her shoulders remain tightened.

He returns with forks and knives in plastic sleeves in his left hand and straws in his right. He sits them next to their drinks, and when he walks away for good, she exhales her breath.

David licks his inner lips as he preps his steaming plate and sweet tea, and she's distracted by the sound of her heart thumping.

He glances up at her while leaning his mouth closer to his straw, looking again when he notices her face turning red from hyperventilating.

With knitted eyebrows, he asks, "What's wrong with you?"