Albino and Redbone

Alex was one of the whitest people you would ever meet. His longish hair was the palest blond, a micro-shade shy of white, his eyes were light blue and his skin looked bleached. He was born in Iceland to an American serviceman and an Islandic woman of Norwegian descent. He moved to the U.S. before he could walk. He wasn't really an Albino; but 'Albino' was his nickname.

The moniker was tagged onto him by his boss at work. Alex worked days as a line cook at Bertha's, a busy restaurant near the shopping district. His boss George, the kitchen manager and "Chef" as he liked to call himself, was always handing out nicknames to the employees, and not usually complimentary ones. George was an overweight, bigoted, pompous ass and universally despised by the help, but his family owned the joint so they were stuck with him.

Originally Alex was 'Cotton Head' but then George got clever and started calling him 'Albino'. A girl in the kitchen cut her thumb chopping onions and was 'Bloody Mary' from that day forward. A busboy with a limp was 'Hookfoot'. The dishwasher, a teenager with an afro was called 'Bush'. A gay waiter was dubbed 'Rice-a-Roni', as in The San Francisco Treat. Old George, he had a million of them.

Nobody liked George but nobody would kill him. He wasn't worth the trouble. No matter how obnoxious or insulting he was, everyone knew he was just an asshole and couldn't help himself. So they just let him rant and blew him off.

Lorna was one of the waitresses. She spoke with a lilting, sultry southern accent which Alex adored, and had smooth chocolate skin and a shoulder-length head of frizzed black hair. When she'd pick up her orders she'd smile and say 'Thank You' in her sexy drawl, and look Alex in the eyes from the other side of the reach-through. Alex would admire her slim, tallish body and stare at her ass when she walked away with her orders. He thought she was hot and her body was fine, that he could see even with her wearing the plain dress that all of the waitresses wore. But he knew she had to be quite a bit older because he'd heard that she was divorced and had a daughter graduating high school. Alex was twenty-six.

George's nickname for Lorna was 'Redbone'. It was another subtle insult of course; Lorna was black, and not what you'd call light-skinned.

Alex often thought about Lorna. He would picture her smile in his mind, and imagine her speaking to him in her fleecy, erotic voice. He wondered if she thought about him. Her eyes and her smile and her voice penetrated him somehow. But he knew deep down that with their age difference and the fact that he was whiter than snow and she was dark as night, it was probably a long shot that she'd be interested. There wasn't that much opportunity at Bertha's for the kitchen help and the wait staff to mingle so he tried to let it go.

--

Lorna was a theater buff. So was her daughter Savannah. So on Savannah's eighteenth birthday, a warm, humid Saturday night in early June, Lorna took her to see a play at a theater downtown. They had dinner at a nice restaurant and then went to the performance.

Afterwards, as Lorna and Savannah were exiting the theater they heard the reedy sound of a woodwind filtering through the voices and footfalls and car horns and other noises of the night. They migrated toward the music and came upon a young, blond-haired white man dressed in a black tuxedo, seated on a stool, playing a clarinet. A plastic tip bucket was on the sidewalk in front of him, full of bills. They paused and stood off to the side to listen. After a minute or so Lorna realized the clarinetist was Alex, the cook from the restaurant.

Alex didn't notice them; his eyes were closed as he concentrated. He would nod when someone contributed to his tip bucket, but otherwise he was in his own musical world.

When Alex finished the piece he heard a couple of people clapping faintly off to his right. He peered over and saw Lorna; she looked exquisite in a red dress, snug against her lean, toned body, and showing off her long, black coffee legs. With her was a younger version of Lorna in a blue skirt and a white blouse. Alex's face broke into a wide smile.

"Wow, I knew you were handy in the kitchen, Alex, but I had no idea you were so talented in other ways!"

"Talent?" he said. "Oh, I'm full of it, that's for sure."

"You sound great. Alex, meet my daughter Savannah."

"Hi Savannah," Alex said. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she said. "You sound good. And nice threads."

"My tux," Alex said. "Rented it for my high school prom and never took it back!"

"Well, you look good. Can you play any blues on that thing?"

Alex immediately jumped into an up-tempo Duke Ellington tune, 'Things Ain't What They Used to Be', bringing smiles from Lorna and Savannah and a smattering of applause and a couple tips from passersby. He played the head a couple times before launching into an improvisation. After a couple minutes, still winging it, Alex saw Lorna take a bill out of her purse and hand it to her daughter. Then Savannah walked over and dropped a five into the tip bucket.

Alex nodded his thanks and looked at Lorna. She had a grin on her face and lipped 'Gotta go' as she gave him a wave. Alex rose and took a bow without missing a beat.

--

"Damn, that boy is white!" Savannah said, as they walked to the car. "How do you know him?"

"From work. He's a cook," Lorna said.

"Wow, he's so white he'd glow in the dark!"

"So what, you like white boys."

"I know, but he's really white!"

"You don't like him?"

"No, I do. But he's so extremely white it's almost like he's black."

"I think he's cute," Lorna said. "I can tell he checks me out at work."

"Kinda young, don't you think?"

"Oh, I don't know. He may be older than he looks. Old enough, anyway."

--

That night and over the next day or so Alex couldn't stop thinking about Lorna and her tight body wrapped in that red dress and her sexy chocolate legs. And her smile, God he loved that smile.

Alex looked forward to going to work Monday morning. He wanted to set his eyes on Lorna. He first spotted her in the dining room filling up the salts and peppers. The waitress dresses were pretty plain, but damn if Lorna didn't look fine in hers. It had short sleeves and buttoned all the way down the front, but it highlighted her curvy ass and long arms and legs. And her face—creamy carob skin and a pearly smile framed by her foxy, kinky hair. He was smitten but not sure what to do about it. He was afraid Lorna might be out of his league.

"Good morning, Maestro!" she said in her sweet, southern drawl.

Alex looked up from his prep work and there was Lorna smiling at him. He grinned and said 'Good morning'.

"Did you bring your clarinet this morning? You gonna serenade us during your break?" she asked.

"No," he laughed. "I left it home. Don't want George to give me another nickname."

Lorna looked over at George, who was coming out of the walk-in with a box of frozen clams.

"Interesting gig you have there, playing that thing," she said. "How did you get into that?"

"That's where I make most of my money. I sure don't make much here!"

"You get paid more than you're worth, Albino," George said, chipping in. "So stop yakking and get back to work. You too, Redbone."

Lorna smiled at Alex and rolled her eyes, then turned and walked back to the dining room.

--

Lorna and Alex continued to flirt and trade smiles and their brief conversations here and there became more comfortable and more than just snippets. A couple times when their breaks coincided and they had a little down time they had a chance to get to know each other a little better. She told him she was originally from Louisiana and was a divorced, single mom. She lived with her daughter in a small, two bedroom bungalow in an older part of town. Savannah had just graduated from high school and was working at a clothing store. She'd like to go to college but there wasn't enough money for that.

"So, how did you get into busking in a tux outside the theater?" Lorna asked.

"A couple years ago I was broke and needed money so I started playing sax on the street and found I could make some money, especially if I could play requests. So I practiced like hell and learned all the standards and show tunes I could. I'd find a busy corner and play for hours. Then I thought of the theaters. There are six large theaters downtown that present plays year-round and hundreds of people go in and out of those theaters before and after the shows. I studied the start times and running times and found that most nights I could hit two theaters when people were going in, and two when shows were letting out. And those people tip. So I dug out the old tux and switched to clarinet because it's light weight. People look at me as a serious musician instead of some bum on the street. The money's great most of the time and it's only a couple hours of playing."

"How often do you do it?"

"It depends, three or four nights a week. Thursday, Friday and Saturday are good. Sundays and early in the week they don't tip as well."

"Unh, unh, unh," Lorna said, shaking her head. "I thought you were just a cook in the kitchen and here I am finding out all kinds of things about you. A talented musician and a creative entrepreneur on top of your day job. You're an interesting fellow, Alex."

--

Alex thought about Lorna a lot. The ice had been broken but he was still unsure of how to proceed. Was she interested in him? There definitely seemed to be some chemistry between them, but the age and color barriers held him back. Should he risk asking her out? He was shy and didn't want to screw up and possibly make things awkward at work.

--

Lorna checked the theater listings, and then called each box office to find out the approximate times that the shows ended. Since all of the theaters were within easy walking distance she thought perhaps she could happen upon Alex outside one of the playhouses near the end of the night and maybe they could go out for a drink or something.

On Friday night she went to one theater and Alex wasn't there, and then she went back to the same theater where she'd seen him the week before but he wasn't there either. There was another one two blocks over so she started walking. As she neared the theater she heard the familiar lyrical sound of the clarinet. She quickened her gait.

Alex spotted her coming this time. She looked radiant in a light blue sleeveless jumpsuit, her licorice arms swaying as she strode toward him. He aborted 'Over the Rainbow' mid-verse and jumped loudly into 'Things Ain't What They Used To Be'. Lorna beamed like a klieg light and stood a few feet away to listen. Alex played two verses and blew a grandiose coda. Then he rose from his stool and Lorna walked close.

"Hi Lorna!" Alex said enthusiastically. "What a nice surprise. What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, I guess the music drew me. I must be a groupie for your one-man band," she said.

"Well, thanks for coming."

"Are you finishing up soon? Can I buy you a drink?"

"As soon as I saw you I was done. But no, you can't buy me a drink because I'm buying you one. Or two." Alex reached down and picked up his tip bucket, brimming with bills. "Hold this," he said, handing it to Lorna. Then he disassembled his horn and put it in its case and folded up his stool. Then Lorna watched as he stacked his cash and pocketed it.

They walked to a nearby pub. The place was packed inside with the after-theater crowd so they made their way out to the backyard patio and found a table. Alex put his instrument case, bucket and stool in one chair and took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over top. As soon as they were seated a server appeared and took their order: a pitcher of ice cold beer.

"I must say Alex, I am impressed. I am with the best-dressed man around town tonight," Lorna said.

"And I'm with the sharpest-dressed woman. I thought you looked hot in your waitress dress, but when I saw you strutting up in that jumpsuit my eyes about popped out of my head. I even hit a couple sour notes. You look incredible."

"Thank you," Lorna said, blushing.

"I'm so glad you came. Such a nice surprise."

"I debated whether I should or not. I wondered if it might be too forward."

"I've wanted to approach you for some time, but I wasn't sure how. I was attracted to you the first time I saw you. And then I heard your voice. It's so sexy."

"Oh, please..."

"No really, Lorna. But I guess I was just too shy and not sure how you'd take it if I asked you out. I was hesitant."

"Why were you hesitant? Was it my color?"

"Well, no, I was very attracted to you. It was more my color."

"Your color?"

"Yeah, I wasn't sure if you'd really be interested. And..."

"Was it my age?"

"No, it was more my age. I thought you'd think I was too young for you."

"How old are you, Alex?"

"Twenty-six."

"How old do you think I am?"

"I don't know. I know you have an eighteen year-old daughter, so I'd guess mid-thirties. But you look like late twenties."

"Bless you. I'm thirty-seven. Is that too old for you?"

"No, it's just right. You look fabulous. Is twenty-six too young for you?"

"No, and you look great too. Especially in that stolen tux."

They both burst out laughing. As if on cue their pitcher arrived and their waitress poured them beer in frosted mugs.

--

They spent the next hour and a half drinking beer and talking up a storm. Their conversation flowed just as well as the beer. They shared an appetizer and made eyes. Here and there they touched: his hand on hers and hers on his, occasionally on their arms.

They both opened up and learned a lot about one another in a relatively short time. Alex found out that Lorna had been divorced for nine years from Savannah's father, who was not a totally deadbeat dad but he was close: he had very little to do with Savannah and was usually a month or two behind with her child support, and that support would end with her turning eighteen and not continuing in school. She'd never gone to college and had worked at Bertha's for a few years and she got by but it was never enough.

Lorna learned about Alex too. He had a bachelor's degree in history, but once he graduated he had nowhere to go. He had no interest in teaching so he got a restaurant job and played music at night. He'd played in bands but that had been a dead end, so he started his career as a street musician. He'd stumbled onto the play-music-in-a-tux-outside-the-theaters idea and was doing okay. The day job was just to look legit for the taxman.

At the end of the second pitcher they both knew instinctively that it was time to call it a night.

Alex walked Lorna to her car which was parked in a lot seven blocks away. She opened her car door and turned to Alex.

"Thank you," Lorna said. "I had a nice time."

"Can I see you again?" Alex asked. "Would you have dinner with me?"

"I'd love to."

"How about Sunday night?"

"Yes. I just cleared my schedule," she said, and they both smiled. She gave him her address and phone number.

Lorna rose slightly up on her toes and kissed him. Not smack on the lips, but not flat on the cheek either. It was right on the edge of his mouth.

Alex lugged his gear nine blocks back to his car and drove home, savoring her kiss all the way.

--

On Saturday night Alex cleared just over three hundred dollars playing on the theater sidewalks, not a bad night. On Sunday he called and made reservations at a swanky restaurant outside of town overlooking the reservoir. He'd never been there but it was always getting rave reviews. Since it was a Sunday he was able to get a reservation on short notice, although it was for a later time than he preferred.

He called Lorna and told her the plan. He'd pick her up around six and they'd have a drink at the bar until their table was ready. He could tell Lorna was impressed; she said she'd never been there either and had always wanted to go. He couldn't wait to see her.

Her home was in an older neighborhood which had seen better days. It was a blue-collar area full of small homes, some neat and well-maintained and others not so much. He parked his car in front and walked toward the door. Just as he approached the porch the front door sprung open and Lorna emerged.

"Alex is here, goodbye Honey," she called behind her, and pulled the door shut.

Once again Alex was amazed at how wonderful she looked. She wore a black, pin-striped pantsuit. The jacket was short, barely reaching her waist and hugging her breasts, with a low-cut white top beneath it. Her slacks were tight, stretched across her crotch, and her open-toed shoes showed off bright red toenails. A short gold chain surrounded her neck, contrasting her dark flesh, and gold earrings dangled in her black curly locks. Damn, Alex thought, she looks good, and felt a tingle in his trousers.

"Hi Alex," Lorna said, and planted a quick kiss on his lips. They turned and walked to his car. Alex opened the passenger door for her and then walked around and got in behind the wheel.

Lorna grabbed his hand, squeezed it and said, "Savannah's giving me a hard time. She's probably peeking out the window at us."

"Why?"

"She's teasing me."

"Teasing you? Why?"

"Because I'm going out with you. I haven't done this for a while."

"I've been looking forward to this for two days!" Alex said.

"So have I," she said.

"You know Lorna, you look more amazing every time I see you."

"Thank you. I like what I see too!" She squeezed his hand again, tighter this time. "Let's go...before Savannah wets her panties."

They laughed and Alex shifted into gear and drove off. He thought that was funny.

--

"So, do you think Savannah doesn't approve of you seeing me? Or is she just messing with you?"

"She's just having some fun. She likes you, she already told me that. She's just being protective of her old mom. Like I said, it's been a while."

After a drive of about twenty minutes, the last part through park land, they pulled into the lot of the restaurant. They walked in and checked with the maître d' to let him know they were there. Then they went to the outside bar overlooking the vast lake. They sat at a small table and ordered drinks, white wine for Lorna and an imported beer for Alex.

They were quiet for a moment as they took in the view. The far side of the reservoir was thickly wooded and there were a handful of small boats puttering around.

"This is beautiful!" Lorna said. "A lot different from Bertha's!"

They laughed and Alex said, "That's for sure. How long do you think George would last in a place like this?"

"Just long enough to get his ass kicked," Lorna said. "I'm surprised somebody hasn't done it already. How do you put up with him, working beside him in the kitchen?"

"I just ignore him. I know he's a jerk, and he will always be a jerk. His problem, not mine."

"That's a good attitude," she said. "If I worked back there I don't know if I could keep quiet. I might have to hit him upside the head with a frying pan or something."

Their drinks arrived and Alex suggested a toast.

"I guess we're not going to toast George, huh?" he said.

Lorna laughed. "Don't think so, unh unh."

"I could toast to being here with the foxiest lady in the joint," he said.

"Or I could toast being here with the most handsome man."

"I don't know about that," Alex said shyly, glancing around.

"Here's to Albino and Redbone," Lorna said, raising her glass. "The cutest couple in the place."

They tapped their glasses and drank, and Alex leaned over and kissed Lorna on her lips.

--

They had just ordered their second drink when they were informed that their table was ready. They were seated at a table overlooking the water. Their dinner was sensational as they expected it would be. It was steak and lobster for both, and their conversation was a like a steady current of electricity, never lulling, and they shared a number of laughs as they went from one topic to the next. They talked about books, movies, and their jobs. They talked about Savannah, they talked some about their pasts and even touched on the future.