Darlene noticed the couple as they entered. They looked to be in their mid to late 20s, the better part of ten years younger than she herself. What a perfect couple, she thought.
They looked like a perfect match. The guy was handsome, with a powerful build and gorgeous, muscular face. Must lift weights, she figured.
The girl was stunning - fine brunette hair, exquisitely layered with a slight inward flip just at shoulder length, and attractive bangs that accentuated the beauty of her face. A perfect face and perfect body that made people think she must be some celebrity who'd come out of seclusion. Covering this body was a strapless yellow body-wrap top, matching tight yellow shorts, and black stiletto heels. Wish I was a perfect doll like that, thought Darlene.
Even though there were only three other customers in the diner, the young pair preferred a booth in the most remote section of the diner that they could find ... shadowed from the morning light that poured through the front windows. The pastel turquoise seat cushions matched the pastel turquoise laminate of the table top.
The guy sat straight, his arms folded. The girl leaned forward, onto her arms crossed on the smooth pastel table. Her head was bowed, as if in regret or shame. Uh oh, thought Darlene ... they've got a disagreement.
She came over to their booth carrying two glasses of cold water. She liked the way the guy surveyed her as she approached. His eyes had that flicker that could smolder into something. "Hi, hon" she said, leaning on their table, revealing the cleavage under her blue spaghetti-strap top. "What can I getcha?"
Vic's eyes dwelled momentarily on the waitress's rough, mature beauty. "Just coffee" he said.
Darlene smiled, turned to the girl, who was also looking her over. She likes women, Darlene figured. "What's for you, hon?" she asked the girl.
"I'll have a cup of tea" said Susan.
"Right up" said Darlene with a smile and a nod, then whisked herself back over to the counter.
Vic cast a lingering glance at Darlene's dark brunette ponytail and the derriere of her tight jeans as she retreated, then focused back on Susan. "So you're really going through with this" he muttered, trying to replace his scowl with a hurt, caring expression.
"Vic ... you know I love you" pleaded Susan. "You know I love Becky. But you'll both be all right." She raised her moist, clear brown eyes to meet his. "You know I'll come back."
"Why do I know that?" It was more a statement than a question.
"Because you know me. You know my heart." Susan paused to wipe a tear from her eye. "You know I'll be back with you..."
"Yeah ... you'll be back, probably bringing us all a little brown present from Maurice ..."
"Don't be mean. You know I wouldn't do anything like that without ... without talking with you ..."
"What's mean? I'm just being realistic. You keep saying how you'd love to have a ... a baby that's half African ..."
Darlene brought their coffee and tea and put them on the table. "Cream?" she asked.
"No, thanks" said Vic.
"Anything else?"
"Not for now."
Darlene smiled and left them alone. She could sense trouble.
Vic put his face in his hands, leaning into his elbows on the table. Then he crossed his arms and looked up, into his girl's eyes. "Susan ... Becky needs you, here. She needs her mom ... here. How can you ..."
