Pearls for Jimmy Read Free Page A

process of throwing back a shot of Ouzo when I made my stunning admission and the damn Ouzo went up her nose and left her gasping for air.
    “Goddamnit!” she snorted in pain, “You never want alcohol and licorice up your nose!” which is most certainly a statement no sane person could argue with and it made Gail cry out hysterically “Oh my God! I’m gonna’ pee…” as she bolted to the Ladies Room.
    Doreen was insisting it was possible to laugh hard enough to crack a rib, which she insisted she had just done, when an ear shattering, thunderous noise ripped through the restaurant and reverberated off the walls and floor.
    We looked at each other and the other diners and everyone asked “What the hell was that? ”
    The restaurant was immediately rocked by another massive “Kaboom!” and the lights dimmed and our wine and water glasses shook ominously.
    More booms followed in rapid succession; each one seemed closer and more terrifying. We actually ruled out the possibility of thunder because no one had ever heard thunder sound that horribly loud. Perhaps they were gas explosions?
    “My God,” Sue asked to no one in particular, “what the hell is happening?”
    Several diners ran to the front of the restaurant and we watched Gail leave the Ladies Room and join them. We waited rather anxiously for her to return and tell us what the hell was happening.
    She was back at our table in a few minutes.
    “Guys, I just watched the news in the bar and we’re in the middle of one hellacious, deadly thunderstorm. It’s massive. All of northern Illinois is under a tornado watch and tornadoes have been sighted in Cook, DuPage, Lake, and Will counties. Also, a lot of Chicago’s streets and neighborhoods are flooding. It’s a very serious storm.”
    We looked at each other and understood: The party was over.
    Doreen slapped the bill on her credit card and said “let’s get out of here.” The rest of us tossed down piles of cash for our incredible waiters and we scrambled to the front of the restaurant where the remaining diners were waiting for the valet service to bring them their cars. We waited for our cars in silence and watched the rain flood the street in front of the restaurant. The wind screamed in such fury that the building groaned and we all wisely stood at a good distance from the windows.
    I said it looked like a hurricane was slamming into Chicago. Everyone agreed. Lightning bounced around us; police and ambulance sirens wailed and the thunder continued to explode overhead. Someone muttered “Damn, it sounds like a war zone out there” and everyone agreed with that too.
    Then the lights went out and restaurant employees scrambled to light candles.
    I had a 60 mile drive home and Doreen wanted me to stay at her place, which was nearby. Sue, Gail and Therese offered their homes too; their drives were all considerably less than mine. I’m a fairly intrepid traveler and I’ve driven in all kinds of terrible Midwest weather so I decided to risk it.
    “Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine” I was saying quite stupidly, “I really think I’ll be fine…” when all of a sudden Jimmy was next to me.
    Without any shyness, hesitation or apology, he slipped a strong arm around my waist and announced “No, you will not be fine. You cannot drive in such a storm. It is impossible.”
    He pulled me closer and looked down at me. “Pleeze,” he said, “I do not wish you to go into such a storm. Do you understand?”
    My friends stared in utter astonishment – all the more so when I patted him on the chest and said, as if I’d known him all my life, “Thanks honey, but I can drive home just fine. Really, I can.”
    He replied in a firm but kind voice, “No, it is not possible. You do not understand: I will not allow it. I will not allow it.”
    It’s true: he actually said “I will not allow it.”
    None of my friends had a clue what to say, not even Doreen. All eyes were on me.
    Jimmy’s arm never