Bloberta Puppington was always very punctual. She never arrived late or early. She was always on the dot. While some viewed it as an annoyance, it was a personal idiosyncrasy that Millie adored. She always did like her little quirks.
It made Millie anxious, to say the least. It had been years since she’d been with Bloberta by herself, without the prying eyes of the citizens of Moralton to cast their judgments. Not like she cared for the people there, anyway.
She was done with that town, its rules, and especially her piece of shit ex-husband. The hypocrisy of good Christian living was more and more evident as she finally became a spinster. Sinville didn’t give a damn about that sort of thing, morality hinged on loving thy neighbor and not casting the first stone, and it was a breath of fresh air. Millie was free to pursue her hobbies and become her own person without someone saying she was going to hell.
In Moralton, Millie was raised to believe in the idea of God, family, and country. Everyone but them is sinners or heathens, living the wrong lives that could only be cured by conforming to the crowd and staying within the lines of their righteous society. She believed it all too well. She married a man she hardly knew to follow the trend of her female friends having families and becoming good housewives as the Lord intended.
She’d be lying to herself if she wasn’t happy at some point in the marriage. Millie thought she loved him at one point or another. Even if it wasn’t her first love. That honor was reserved for someone else.
Once Norm divorced her for Bendy, however, that all went away. She was ostracized and judged, and she saw the true colors of the town that she tried so long to repress. People refused to speak to her, they spread nasty rumors behind her back and took her ex-husband's side over hers.
Despite him cheating on her the entire time.
God, what a fucking asshole. Last she heard he melted down and Bendy left him for good. It’s what he deserves. She never blamed Bendy, from the few times she’s spoken to her, she seemed like it was something she was forced to deal with.
And if those unfair rumors about Bendy are true, then she’s more a victim than anything.
That was all in the past now. It had been nearly a year since she divorced Norm and moved to Sinville, where she finally felt some sense of individuality.
And speaking of divorces, she didn’t hesitate to call Bloberta when she heard of the news with her and Clay. It had been too long since Millie had seen her. Without the invisible leash that both were bound to, they could meet without judgment or rumors. Millie was happy that she agreed to come to Sinville to meet.
The crowd at the restaurant bustles around her as she sat modestly at the corner, a table reserved for her and her friend. She looks over at her watch, seeing that the time was getting desperately close to her meetup time.
Bloberta Puppington was punctual; she never arrived late to anything. Even at Millie’s wedding, Bloberta arrived at the firm time of 3 PM, being the first guest there and ignoring the general social rule of being fashionably late.
Maybe Millie’s just overreacting. She did get to the restaurant rather early and made sure everything was set up for the two, a little too earnestly. It seemed to be more than a platonic outing if anyone knew better or if they judged her demeanor.
The waitress gets around to checking up on her, smiling warmly. “Hello, are you still waiting for your party?”
“Yes, she should be here in a moment,” Millie replies. The waitress nods her head and brings out a pen and notebook.
“Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”
“A pitcher of water—“ No, the nerves on her were starting to creep. She needs to take a load off. “… Can you bring a bottle of wine and two glasses?”
“Certainly!” The waitress leaves and Millie checks her watch again. It was only a minute until she agreed to meet her. Millie gulps as the waitress brings the bottle and glasses, pouring one of them for her and leaving the bottle in a small ice pail. As soon as the waitress leaves she grabs the glass and takes a hefty sip.
It was now three o’clock. The exact time that Bloberta should be arriving. She watches the door with impatience, feeling herself get antsy as the seconds feel like hours.
Now, she finally sees the familiar red dress she always wore, lacking the apron she’s seen her wear with it. It was a lovely color, the same as the lipstick on her lips. Millie could lose herself in that deep red, Bloberta always favored that color. It suited her so well.
She walks up to the hostess and she can see her speak with that same dull expression she always saw in church. When the waitress gestures to her table Millie catches her gaze and she feels her chest start to hum.
Bloberta walks up to the table and greets her with the utmost politeness and casualness as if they have spoken to each other daily. Never mind the fact it’s been years.
“Millie, how are you?” She says, standing at the table as if waiting for an invitation. Millie clears her throat and stands up a little too eagerly.
“Blobs, It’s been forever!” She grins, the urge to hug her isn’t lost but she’s not dumb. It’s clear Bloberta is treating this as politely as she was expected to be in Moralton. So, only friendly gestures. “Go ahead and take a seat, I have some wine for the both of us!”
Bloberta raises an eyebrow and pulls her chair out. “Drinking this early?”
The judgment in her voice screeches against Millie’s ear. It’s fine, she’s been going through a lot. “Well, it is a Friday afternoon.”
She sees a hint of a smile in Bloberta’s expertly painted lips and grabs the glass to sip it. “Pinot huh, you always did know which one I preferred.”
“If I got you what you preferred I would’ve gotten some Highballs.”
“With Johnnie Walker?”
“Goes without saying.” That response increases the smile Bloberta was forcing down. She swirls the wine in her glass before taking another modest sip.
“It’s hard to find a restaurant that serves an actual selection of drinks in Moralton,” Bloberta starts. Her eyes darted around to the patrons and staff, there was not a disdain present in her eyes, but more so a distant uncomfortableness with its members. “I guess it must be the foreign influence here.”
Millie hums her laugh. She hasn’t heard any type of intolerant talk like that in a while. She knows that it’s the Moralton attitude coming out. “Don’t say such things Blobs, it’s not polite around these parts.”
Bloberta raises an eyebrow at her but backs down and opens the menu. “I’m just saying, I have a weak tolerance for these kinds of foods.”
“Well lucky for you, it’s just Italian,” Millie smirks. Bloberta huffs in response and inspects the menu. “You could never say no to some Chicken Alfredo, right?”
Bloberta smiles while she rolls her eyes. “You know me too well.”
Seeing her smile makes Millie’s chest tighten. She puts down her menu as she leans a bit forward. “I do appreciate you coming out to see me, Bloberta. I heard what happened between you and Clay, and I know divorces are messy, especially since you have kids and all.”
Bloberta looks with disdain curling her lips into a frown, but she never looks at Millie. It makes her feel as if she said something wrong but Bloberta doesn’t want to blame her for it. To say that Millie didn’t hear why Bloberta and Clay divorced would be a blatant lie.
People in Sinville like to mock Moralton. When they heard that the mayor of the town decided to make a pathetic excuse of a confession to a male pseudo-lover, many in the community took the time to laugh at him. A snubbing of a well-known Moraltonian was a favorite pastime of many a Sinvillian. It was one of its very few flaws.
Not Millie though. She wasn’t too righteous about being tolerant now that she lived in the town, and she would never laugh at something that affected her friend.
“I wasn’t aware that the word reached down here,” Bloberta grimaces. Instead of anger, however, the muscles of her face turn into embarrassment. “I wouldn’t even know who’d spread such… rumors.”
She darts her eyes quickly around. “Who told you that I got divorced?”
Millie doesn’t like to be dishonest, especially with Bloberta. “Norm called and told me when he was drunk. He called me and said I was influencing too many people with my promiscuity, causing the mayor of Moralton to go the ugly route of separation.”
Bloberta only raised an eyebrow at her answer. She took Millie’s word to heart; she wasn’t one to lie. She wouldn’t be the one to actively seek hurtful gossip against her. She’d known her too long to second guess the person she was.
Then again, people change when you least expect it.
“I can’t believe Norm knows, I wonder how he’s going to treat Orel now,” Bloberta shakes her head, sipping more of the wine as if it was her last drink. “He’s already been down on his luck with the track team, I can’t imagine what he’d throw on his plate.”
“How is he, by the way?”
“Who, Norm?” Bloberta scoffs.
“No, Orel. I also heard what happened with him,” Millie soberly asks. “I’m sorry to hear that happened. It must’ve been scary to know your child was hurt when you weren’t around.”
Bloberta looks at her for a moment before shifting back down to her hand, swirling the glass idly as she attempts to respond. “I… I’m sorry too. He was hurt during the camping trip and I wasn’t there, especially with that bastard... then again, I’m hardly ever there.”
Millie widens her eyes curiously. “What do you mean?”
Bloberta huffs a sarcastic laugh. She finishes the glass without a hint of trouble and slumps in her chair. “Nothing. There’s nothing else to say.”
The mood seems to change. Like a pocket of cold air in a warm room, their atmosphere was confined to its corner, while the rest of the restaurant seemed to bubble with neighborliness. Millie takes a sip of her wine, the waitress brings their food and places it on the table in front of them. It steams hot, so they let it sit for a second.
Bloberta digs a fork into the food, twirling and mixing the contents so it doesn’t stay too hot. Millie doesn’t like the silence. She wants to break it.
“Are you glad that you’re leaving him?” Millie dares to ask. Bloberta stops dead in her movement. Her dark eyes look into hers, unmoving.
“Were you?“
Millie shouldn’t be surprised she asked that. She wonders that sometimes when she sleeps in her apartment bedroom, the silent ticking of a clock is only present, and the soft glow of streetlights seeps through her window being the only source of light. She rethinks everything during those nights, wondering what could’ve changed. What could’ve been done?
Then she realizes that the past shouldn’t hold her back from the future.
“I am,” she states. Norm might’ve initiated it, but Millie is so fucking thankful he did. She would’ve lived in denial for her whole life like she had been.
“Did you invite me here to gloat?” Bloberta begins, her fork scoops some food into her mouth and she chews so politely that you’d think she had nothing in, even patting her lip with a napkin. “Acting like you’re better than me because you live in a better town?”
“You know that’s not why Blobs,” Millie quickly responds. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Well, you can see I’m doing just fine; a single mother with no education or job experience raising three kids with a drunken closeted pitiable excuse of an ex-husband. I’m winning the rat race.”
“Bloberta please, I didn’t invite you here to show off or anything like that. I care about you, and I wanted to know how you were,” Millie says. “My life is anything but glamorous. I wake up alone every day, and I come home to no one except a cat. You go home to a family you created, something I wished I had for years. I’d do anything to be living like that, anything.”
“I wouldn’t call that living,” Bloberta grumbles. The wine starts to look a little too weak for what is about to boil over. She motions the waitress over and orders two highballs. When she leaves she continues her story. “I had no control, no say, no nothing. I just existed there, and I felt guilty about it. Whatever love I gave to Orel and Shapey, it was only for me to feel justified about staying with Clay. I despised being with him. I despised everything about him.”
The waitress returns and places the drinks on the counter before she leaves. Bloberta grabs one and downs one of them in one go before wiping her chin with as much grace as a bull in a china shop. ”I just felt numb. There are times when I doubt that I even love my children.”
Millie gulps, unable to think of something to comfort her. She couldn’t help but think it was a mistake to invite Bloberta for her mental well-being. “I… I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Bloberta scoffs. “I’m the one who married that bastard, I’m the one who made him what he is.”
Millie shakes her head. “Don’t blame yourself. What good will that do?”
“It’s true though.” Bloberta shakes her head. Her eyes look more dejected than they ever were, shame and embarrassment as radiant as her lipstick. “I just wanted to get married and start a family, like you did. I wanted to fit in.”
“Like me?” Millie says. “I rushed into the marriage. I just wanted to show off my ring to the girls at church. I figured something must’ve been up when he refused to sleep with me for years after our wedding night.”
Bloberta wants to ask why she didn't tell anyone this, but there wasn’t a point. It was Moralton. No one ever spoke what truly was on their minds. She was just as guilty of it as everyone else. “I guess we were both just young and foolish.”
Millie playfully scoffs at the suggestion. “At least you had a few kids out of it. I prayed so often to have children, but I don’t know. It wasn’t meant to be.”
Bloberta shakes her head. “You say that until you’re awake for three months straight and up to your neck in diapers.”
“Better than just sitting at the house, just watching the clock run on,” Millie slowly eats her meal. “I didn’t have anyone to speak to aside from Norm.”
Bloberta seems to calm down from that point on, they both eat in relative silence. Bloberta did glance at the second highball fizzing just nearby, tempting her to drink. She ignores it, for now, keeping their dinner quiet and unassuming. It’s a calming atmosphere, there isn’t any worry of judgment here, Bloberta guesses. There’s laughter and conversations at the other tables but not at theirs and it’s acceptable.
Then her mind starts to remind her of Millie’s comment just before. Bloberta never had anyone to speak to either. If Millie was so lonely, why didn’t she ever bother calling her? There were plenty of times she could answer the phone when she was alone.
“Then why did you never talk to me when you lived in Moralton?”
Millie pauses. Bloberta asked a valid question that she couldn’t even formulate an answer to. Housewives weren’t communicating unless their husbands were over there. That was just how it was, how it currently is. Surely, Bloberta had the same answer as well, right?
“You know how it was, Blobs, you were busy with your family and I was…” Millie had just said earlier she did nothing but watch the time run. She didn’t have an actual answer for her. In her realization, she scoffs to herself and leans back, contemplative. Whatever answer Millie was going to give, she was going to have to brace for the reaction. ”Huh. I guess there isn’t an excuse.”
Those words strike Bloberta like a cold, stinging wind, and Millie notices it on her face right away. Her eyes furrow into a familiar sight; the peaks of blue shine through the scrunched lids. “Is there ever?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Every time I needed you, there was an excuse; an excuse that was just a blatant lie.” This was the cue for Bloberta to down the other highball that had long stopped fizzing. She winces at the alcohol, the warm flat cocktail sour in taste.
“‘Needed me’? What is that supposed to mean?” Millie exasperates. She hates it when Bloberta gets emotional like this. The way she felt these sudden bursts of feelings, was sometimes so passionate. Another idiosyncratic feature of her she adored.
“To be there for me!” Bloberta is on the cusp of spilling. Her voice is trembling and her eyes are a little glassy. “You were always there when we were in school, getting me through difficult times. You never once wanted to see me ever since you got married, and I was suffering Millie.”
“That’s because we aren’t kids anymore, Bloberta!” Millie says. “It can’t be like in high school where I’m covering for you being hungover, or I’m helping you sneak back into your house! And I was suffering too, just the same as you were. We aren’t girls anymore Blobs, we can’t just cling on to the past. ”
God, what a hypocrite she is.
“You’re right, we aren’t.” Bloberta’s expression only saddens. “I wish we were. I wish we were girls again, because then I’d be foolish enough to admit that I loved you.”
Millie had always wanted to hear those words, but not like this. Not in this awkward mash of emotions. She must’ve been getting drunk off the wine and cocktails. Millie sighs, grabbing the bottle, pouring herself another glass, and sipping a hefty amount. She wipes her lips, looking Bloberta in the eyes.
“When we were in senior year there was a time you were just absolutely hammered. You called me from a payphone that you needed to be picked up from the bar,” she begins, tone reminiscing of simpler times. “I snuck out of my room and took my parents' car while they were asleep to pick you up. I was shaking the entire time because I was afraid they’d wake up and find out I snuck off for the night.”
Bloberta crunches her face with annoyance. “What does this have to do with anything? Are you trying to make me feel bad?”
“Just let me finish Bloberta,” Millie cuts her off. “I found you throwing up on the corner of the bar. I helped you into the car and drove you home. When we got there I helped you to your room and laid you down on your bed, and when I was about to leave, you grabbed my hand and urged me to stay. I told you I couldn’t and then you rubbed your cheek against it and I caved in, I stayed.”
Bloerta’s eyes sting, she tries not to let them break open. “And what happened?”
“You mumbled something into my hand. I asked you what you said and then you opened your eyes and told me this: "I want our hair to turn white together”. I didn’t understand it at first but I had to leave when I did.” Millie finishes her story, her wishful gaze locked on Bloberta’s stirring eyes. “Then, we grew up. We moved on and drifted apart. Our lives became dedicated to our families. I didn’t think there’d be a time for us to grow old together.”
Bloberta swallows the knot in her chest away. She grabs a napkin and gently tabs her eyes to keep from her makeup spilling. This was what Millie invited her for, she now realizes. And it’s happening so fast. “You want to reconnect?”
Millie reaches her hand and grabs it. “There was a point in time where if you told me to run away with you, I would have. Not anymore. I’ve been away from you for too long to know how you feel about me.”
Bloberta hasn’t felt like this in years. Her body feels hot and her hands melt like butter in her soft, delicate grip. “I don’t know if I love you or not.”
“I don’t either.” Millie lets go of her hand. She motions the waitress over to get the check. She leaves a single hundred dollar bill on the book and she looks up to Bloberta with gentle eyes. “Maybe we can try to see how it feels, at least for now.”
Bloberta takes a deep, contemplative sigh. She analyzes Millie’s features with a calm, almost empty gaze. Even though Millie can see a spark of light in their icy blue depths, a spark of hope. She always took a deep sigh before making a complicated decision. It was another little quirk of hers that she never could forget.
“I suppose we can see where we stand now,” Bloberta says, relaxing only a little bit. Her posh demeanor was all but gone, a tired but steady smile on her ruby lips. “I wouldn’t mind some more lunch dates.”
Their lunch goes on without a hitch. When it’s all said and done Millie offers to walk Bloberta to the bus stop, to which Bloberta agrees. Millie wasn’t sure what was going on this week, but the streets were full of people and music. Sinville always had some sort of celebration going on. Bloberta clung close by to Millie, avoiding any passersby. She would rather feel more comfortable being close with someone she knows. She was close enough that she would occasionally breathe on Millie’s shoulder, and feel the heat radiating from her.
Millie doesn’t mind it at all.
As they get to the bus stop, Bloberta takes a chance to complain as the noise diminishes. “Gosh, do people in Sinville always have to be so loud?”
“You get used to it. I think it’s Mardi Gras this week too, it’s a Catholic thing to have fun and party before lent.” Millie says, seeing Blobberta shiver at the word.
“Ugh, Catholics. There must be a lot of them around here,” She grimaces. Millie rolls her eyes.
“They’re not what you think they are, Blobs, they’re people too,” she chuckles. “I can assure you they’re not here to turn us into Satan worshippers or something.”
Bloberta blushes a little at Millie’s casual approach to them. Millie’s not surprised, there are hardly any in Moralton. Having some sort of kickback to that kind of talk could be embarrassing for someone like Bloberta. “Well, the music wasn’t all bad. It just could’ve been a little quieter.”
Millie smiles more at Bloberta, and she swears that her face got as red as her dress and lipstick. The bus for Moralton arrives, only a few passengers including Bloberta begin to board the bus. Before she steps on, she turns and faces Millie. “I… I enjoyed talking to you again, Millie. I’m sorry about my emotionality, but… y’know...”
“You don’t have to explain anything,” Millie says. Bloberta swallows.
“We need to do it again sometime.”
Slowly, Bloberta walks up hesitantly and wraps her arms around Millie’s shoulders. It makes both their nerves jump, but Millie gladly returns and lets her hands rest on her back. She could feel Bloberta’s heart, pounding like thunder in her chest. It nearly matches hers. Bloberta pulls away and lingers her hands on her shoulders but slowly slides them off her skin. Millie instantly misses the touch in.
Bloberta is red in the face. Millie wouldn’t be surprised if she was too. Wordlessly, she climbs the bus steps.
“I’ll call you. We can try another restaurant this time around.” Millie suggests, Bloberta stops and turns to nod agreeingly. “Maybe you can even bring the kids along.”
“I would like that very much,” she continues. She walks up the steps of the bus and turns around again. “Bye, Millie.”
“Goodbye Blobs.” The doors close and she watches the bus begin to drive away from their city, Millie holding her arms as she misses her warmth. She begins the solitary walk back home, her cheeks fuzzy and smiling giddily the entire time back.
When she arrives at her apartment, she heads to the shower and cleans herself as she gets ready for bed. Even though there’s no other soul in the whole apartment, she feels not alone. She has something to look forward to.
Millie will make the call tomorrow. She takes a look at her calendar for the next available time she could invite Bloberta out again. She circles the date with a marker and writes a solid and bold 3:00 PM on it.
She won’t have to worry about Bloberta arriving late. Bloberta Puppington was many things, and she wasn’t always the best decision maker. If there is one thing she can always count on, it is that Bloberta is always punctual.