Weekend Fiction: “White Tornadoes”

“Do you think it’s possible that you can not mention your wife or refer to her in any way whatsoever for five minutes? A lousy five minutes? I just want five minutes without hearing about her.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“So you think of her even when you’re not thinking of her?”
“I said I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t answer me. You think of her when you’re not thinking of her?”
“I’m not thinking of her, Julia. I’m thinking how incredibly disastrous, horrible, impossible it would be if we are found out.”
“How would that happen, Joseph?”
“The night has a thousand eyes, Julia. Have you heard that one?”
“You’re good at those old sayings.”
“That’s my experience for you. One of the things that attracted you in the first place, as I recall.”

“That was just a way to get you here. I wanted you because you’re smart. I’m turned on by smart. I didn’t realize there would be this obsession with getting caught.”
“Julia. I’m a judge. They’d tear me apart.”
“Judges aren’t allowed to have affairs?”
“Married judges, no. They are not. It’s called political suicide.”

“Oh, excuse me. I’m married, too. It’s not suicide for me?”
“No, sweetheart, because you have nothing to lose except a loser of a husband. Nobody will notice your affair except maybe your mother and a few friends, and none of them will care a whit or be surprised in the least.”

“Maybe the risk is too much for you? Maybe we ought to break it off? Are you trying to break it off, Joseph?”
“Unfortunately, you have these, what, attributes. I’m afraid I’ve got you, to steal a famous lyric, ‘under my skin.’”

“This goddamn snowstorm might just keep you here anyway, Baby. Look at that wind! Why don’t we go out in my jeep and get warm, Honey, like in the old days. I think I have a pair of those net stockings in the car. I swear I don’t know why men like those things but they work like magic!”

“Don’t do this, Julia. I have to get on that plane.”

“I don’t control the snowstorms.”
“It’s beautiful in a way. The wind rushing up to the terminal building, right where it says ‘Logan International,’ creates incredible white tornadoes.”
“The cold makes my eyes water.”
“Those green eyes are beautiful when they’re wet.”
“Excuse me, but they’re hazel, buddy boy. A lot of men have gotten lost in those eyes.”

“Trying to make me jealous?”
“That’s a laugh. You’re the one going home to another woman.”

“We have to keep it this way, at least for now.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. Sometime down the road, Julia, sometime in the future we’ll be together. You just got to be patient, honey. In the meantime, just keep humping and keep those juices flowing in the right places.”

“You know, Julia, I have this funny feeling that if I did divorce my wife, if I did throw away everything just to be with you, you’d keep those net stockings on hand for the next guy you meet at the airport.”

“I just follow my heart, Joseph. Follow it to the letter.”

“I see myself sitting home watching a Patriots game and my beautiful wife Julia, who talks dirty to me when its my turn, has to run to the store and she’s gone for a few hours and when she gets back, the net stockings are hanging over the back seat.”

“Now you’re talking, Lover. Let’s go out to my Jeep and I’ll talk to you the way you like it, how cheap and dirty I feel and how nobody does it the way you do, how I see you across the room and can think of nothing but how I’m going to get you before I explode right then and there.”

“This is what I mean. How can I not come back?”
“Yes. I’ve got you now. I can’t wait to get you right there in the courtroom, while you’re wearing that terrific black robe, but nothing under it.”

“Jesus, Julia, just stop because I’ve got to go and you’re killing me with this.”

“They’re lining up now. Time to go if you’re going to, honey. I hate it, but you know, I’ll wait for you, maybe. I’ll put off all the others, I promise.”

“I get it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay, honey. I don’t want you to be late home. The little missy is probably all wet waiting for you.”
“Stop it, Julia. Just stop it.”
“I’m just no good at good byes. Just get back here soon.”

“I will. I don’t have a choice.”

Joe Registrato is editor of AliveTampaBay.

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