Just a Sunday Lunch

     Kyle watched as his girlfriend of four years gorged herself on a half-pound cheeseburger and french fries.
     This is the girl I love, he thought.  Then he looked to the table of four younger, thinner women across the restaurant.  He wondered if, at twenty-eight, he was too old to talk to them.
     Not that he would do it, with Rebecca present.
     Not that he would do it, at all.
     The women wore college-labeled clothing, which led Kyle to presume they were, at most, nine years younger than he.  All were local.  One was branded with the mark of Cabrini, another with that of Eastern.  Two bore the marks of Villanova.  They were happy and care-free, chatting and laughing between bites of Flippin’ Jack’s famous burgers.
     That was all that Kyle wanted, to be happy and care-free.  What more could one ask for?
     Kyle would have liked to chat and laugh with Rebecca, but after four years there seemed little or nothing left to talk about.  They had hit a plateau (and not only in the area of conversation). 
     “How’s your burger?” Kyle asked.  He already knew the answer.
     “Good,” said Rebecca.
     Good, Kyle thought.  It was just as he thought, and he nodded his head.
     Twenty-eight years of age and Kyle felt on the verge of fifty.  The rundown feeling, the boredom, the lack of sexual appetite.  It must have been how the "older" men felt, say, after they'd stopped having sex because they couldn’t perform- but were still too ashamed to accept their impotence and take Viagra.  The thought disappointed Kyle so greatly he lost grip of his “colossal” burger. The meat patty slipped out of the the bun, crashed onto his plate, and catapulted french fries onto the table.
     Rebecca was there to clean them up.
     “Whoaaaa,” she said. “What’s the matter butterfingers? That burger too much for you to handle?” She laughed and, in doing so, generated her signature snort.
     Kyle used to think it was cute, the sound.  Now he just related it to what his mind would have on the first date, when he first heard it- what his mind would have related it to if he hadn’t found Rebecca attractive and been trying to sleep with her.  He would have related the sound to an animal that eats heftily and rolls in mud.  Albeit, some of those animals were cute; he supposed Rebecca fell into that category.
     It wasn’t that Rebecca had gotten fat, or anything like that, over the past four years. 
     She hadn’t.
     It was actually he who had.
     Kyle had put on nearly twenty-five pounds in the four years he’d been seeing Rebecca.  It wasn't her fault, wasn't anyone's fault, really, but his own.  Still, if he had to blame someone or something, Kyle had to blame his desk job.  That was for Rebecca- well for “them.”  The desk job was at Rebecca's father's company, a brokerage firm in Philadelphia, and while it paid better than his last position at Speaker City, where he sold stereo systems, it was more sedentary and boring.
     It afforded Kyle a bigger apartment, which Rebecca kind-of slowly moved-in to.  And now she was there- always there.  Kyle felt trapped. 
     He recalled an image of a caged lion he had seen the night before on the National Geographic channel. (Rebecca had fallen asleep next to him on the couch, so he was able to put on the National Geographic channel). On the television researchers had captured the lion, which appeared to have been suffering from a leg injury.  The lion could barely walk.  It just laid, unmoving, in the cage.  They gave the beast a sedative, and when the lion appeared asleep, one researcher entered for closer examination of the lion’s right rear paw.
     The researcher found there was a rusted nail in the paw. 
     Think “Androcles and the Lion.”
     Think “The Lion and the Mouse.”
     Except this time, when the man (or the mouse) pulled out the nail and rescued the dangerous creature, he, the researcher, got four deep gashes across the stomach and needed to be transported via helicopter to a hospital.
     Not even a sedative-induced sleep could mask the lion's pain.
     Nature is full of surprises.

     By the time Kyle had rebuilt his cheeseburger, Rebecca was finished hers and had picked up the dessert menu.
     “Do they have good milkshakes here?” she asked him.
     “Ummm...” Kyle hesitated. Really, he knew the milkshakes to be the best in town. He had been to Flippin’ Jack’s many times before when he, like the girls across the way, was an undergrad.  (He would have had "Villanova" stitched across his chest as well.)  Kyle looked to the girls, then back to Rebecca.  Back to the girls, then to Rebecca.  He felt ashamed this was his idea of a spontaneous, fun afternoon with his girlfriend.  Revisiting a burger joint.  Revisiting his past.  He wondered what the college girls did for fun... 
     “I can’t remember,” he said. 
     “Well the menu says ‘Best Milkshakes in Town.'”
     “Then they must be,” Kyle gruffed.
     “Jeez what’s the matter with you? Can’t I get a milkshake?”  Her voice rose. 
     “Of course, it’s just...."  Kyle gave in.  "Can I finish my burger first? I want one too.”
     He lied. He didn’t want a milkshake at all.  What he wanted was more along the lines of a colonic.  He wanted two colonics, one to cleanse out the colossal burger he just ate, another to cleanse out the colossal mess he had gotten himself into with Rebecca.
     “Awww, okay," Rebecca replied.  "Little Kyle wants his dessert too!” She smiled and continued to look over the flavors, said “Mmmmm.”
     The fact that she was even looking at the dessert menu annoyed Kyle. “Little Kyle?” What the hell was that?
     “Actually, I can’t fit any more,” he said. He put what was left of the burger, about one-third of it, back on the plate. “I’m just gonna run to the bathroom quick.”
     “What are you bullimic now?” With that, Rebecca snorted again.
     If he was bulimic it would have been because of her, Kyle thought, but he faked a smile, laughingly said “no.”
     He said, "I'll be right back.”

     In the restroom, Kyle examined his physique in the mirror before he unzipped and let loose at the urinal. He held in his belly, tried to picture himself as an undergrad again.
     At least I can still see my penis, he thought.
     He tried to figure where he went wrong in his life, couldn't pinpoint a specific moment, so just washed his hands and returned to Rebecca at the table.  He found her in a daze, staring at a family that had just been seated a few tables down. The family consisted of a man, a woman, and a baby.
     They blocked Kyle’s view of the college girls.
     “I’m back,” he said, but Rebecca didn’t hear.  She uttered a low, drawn-out “awwwwww.” Her eyes were fixed. Kyle took a closer look and noticed the man and the woman- the parents of the baby- did not appear much older than he and Rebecca. In fact, they could have easily been his and Rebecca’s age- a scary thought!
     Rebecca worked at a daycare and always said, especially after the long days, that she “hated children,” and “never wanted to have any in her life,” but of course she was only joking. She wouldn’t have worked at the daycare otherwise. Still, for Kyle the words were comforting to hear, for he truly wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to have children in his lifetime. He didn’t think he’d make a good father, considering how poor of a role model his father was.
     Imagine empty bottles of scotch.
     Imagine of a boy playing catch by himself in the backyard.
     “Isn’t he adorable?” Rebecca asked.
     Kyle watched as the infant in the blue onesie, cradled in his mother's arms, released a goblet of spit onto his mother’s shoulder. The baby boy had a white cap on his head, was probably no more than a few months old.  While he appeared adorable and well-rested, the parents appeared exhausted. The dad had bags under his eyes, just stared, wide-eyed, at the menu as if there was something else to see past it.
     He looked like a shock victim.
     The mother appeared to have just rolled out of bed, but more if she had done so after a night of heavy drinking. The physical signs of a hangover were there, but Kyle knew the reason to be the bundle of joy she held in her arms.
     The "bundle of joy" who had turned his mother and father into zombies.
     Rebecca, still mesmerized, worried Kyle. The look she gave- the doe eyes, the gaping mouth- told Kyle everything he needed to know:  she wanted to escalate.
     She wanted marriage, kids.
     She wanted to settle down, become a zombie too.
     Rebecca was infected!
     But then her look changed.  Kyle watched as a wave of sadness washed over her.  For some reason he thought that was the time to tell her- before it was too late- how he really felt.  He didn't want her to think she could have something like a family with him.  Not with the doubts he was having about their relationship.
     “Honey... I...”  He couldn’t find the words. He didn’t know where to begin.
     Before he could even think, Rebecca interrupted.
     “There’s something I have to tell you Kyle.” 
     I’m not happy? I’m not ready? Kyle’s heart pounded in his chest. What? What? Everything Rebecca said was a mumble over the thudding in his temples. He needed release. He needed to get out what he had to say, no matter what she had to say.
     Could this be it?  Could it be over?
     He took a deep breath, cleared his throat.  He closed his eyes. Four years washed before him like a movie reel being re-wound, the memories projected onto the backs of his eyelids. Somewhere in the flashback, in the background, he heard the college girls laughter.
     The laughter startled him.  They weren’t part of the soundtrack.
     He woke from the reminiscent daydream to hear the last two words Rebecca had to say, “I’m pregnant.”
     “What?”
     “I’m pregnant.”
     Kyle's heart stopped in his chest.  He was sure it was a heart attack, a combination by-product of the colossal burger and shock.  Dead at twenty-eight.  
     But how could it be possible?  He and Rebecca used protection every time, as seldom as that was.
     She was on birth control.
     Aw hell!  
     The worrisome thoughts and the panic quickly left Kyle, were replaced with a sense of urgency similar to that of which he felt before.  His life was inadequate.  That had not changed, but the things he needed to do now, to become adequate, suddenly involved Rebecca again.  He felt okay.
     He felt the responsibility to care for that child.
     He felt the responsibility to give it the best life he possibly could- better than the life he had had, than the one his father had given him.
     He-
     Another laugh startled Kyle; this one followed by a snort.
     “Oh god, you should have seen the look on your face!” Rebecca said. She laughed and snorted some more.
     Kyle's face flushed. His heartbeat returned steady to his chest. He hadn’t seen Rebecca laugh that hard in a long time, almost forgot how pretty her smile was.
     He also thought the snorting was kind-of cute.