There came a point when Roseanne and I could no longer deny our feelings for each other. We were grabbing a quick bite at a McDonald’s north of L.A. and I finally said, "Look, you’re gonna have to say something to Tom."

Roseanne looked at me blankly. She popped a McNugget into her mouth. "`Bout what, sweetheart?"

I shook my head. "Come on, you know what I’m talking about."

"No–what?"

"I’m talking about us."

She grabbed another McNugget. "Us?"

"Yes, us."

She chewed the McNugget quickly. Then she looked at me. "You got any more barbecue sauce?"

I slapped my hand against my leg. "Damnit, don’t change the subject."

"I’m not changing the subject."

"Yes, you are."

"Well, fine–what are we talking about?"

"We’re talking about us."

"What about us?"

I paused. "Well, look at us. Look at what we’re doing right now."

"We’re eating at McDonald’s."

"Yeah, but why are we eating at McDonald’s?"

"`Cause I’m hungry."

"And why are you hungry?"

"`Cause my body needs food."

I pretended to laugh. "Yeah–hah-hah, very funny. Aren’t we just so witty today?"

Roseanne unwrapped a McChicken sandwich. She didn’t look up. "You want some of this?"

I shook my head. I watched her unwrap the sandwich. "You’re not gonna discuss this, are you?"

She took a big bite of the sandwich. "Nope."

"Well, look–we just spent six hours in a rinky-dink motel. And why? `Cause you don’t want anyone seeing us together. You don’t want me to call. I have to wait for YOU to call ME. You’re leaving me totally out in the cold…I’m getting really tired of it."

Roseanne continued to eat her sandwich. I waited for her to say something. After a few moments, she looked up at me. "What?"

"You’re not even listening, are you?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Then what’d I say?"

She took a bite of her sandwich. "I never call you."

"Exactly."

She put down her sandwich and wiped her hands with a paper napkin. She took a sip of her soda. "Look, if you don’t want us to continue, fine."

"That’s not what I’m saying."

"Okay."

"No–I want us to be serious. Let’s stop hiding in motels. You keep saying it’s over with you and Tom."

She picked up her sandwich again and took a bite. "Maybe it’s not." She stared off into the distance. "I just don’t know…"

I shook my head. "God–I can’t take this anymore."

She looked at me for a moment. Then she put down her sandwich. She reached across the table and took my hand. "Look, you’re my big stud. There’s nobody I like better, you know that. And I’m glad we’re spending the day together. Can’t we just enjoy it for what it is? We can figure out the rest later."

"I…I dunno…"

She squeezed my hand. "Come on? You’re such a big stud. Don’t you know that?"

I smiled. "Well, I guess I kind of am."

"That’s right you are." She let go of my hand and picked up her sandwich. She finished the rest of it in one big bite. Then she wiped her hands with a napkin.

I looked at her. "You know, Oprah’s having a party later. Can we go to that?"

She shook her head. "I can’t. I mean, I’d love to. But I promised Tom I’d go with him to his therapist. It’s a whole complicated thing, you know?"

I nodded. "See this is what I mean…"

She smiled. "I know, darlin.’ Believe me, I’d love to go with you. But I can’t." She took a sip of her soda. "You should go anyway. Whoopi’s gonna be there. You guys’ll have a great time."

"She’s not you."

"I know. But you should go."

I nodded. "Yeah…maybe…"

"Do it."

"All right."

She stood up and began crumpling our sandwich wrappers and an empty box of McNuggets. I helped her toss all our garbage into a trash bin. Then we walked out of McDonald’s and climbed into our separate cars.