by Elsa Kurt
good, really.
In under a minute, Jason responded.
Phew, I was getting worried there
for a minute. Thought I
scared you off or something. I know
I come on strong, but I really,
really like you, Keira. How about
dinner tonight?
Keira typed her response, reading it aloud as she did.
Aww, that’s sweet, Jason. I like you —
“NO.” shouted both Molly and Kate.
“If you say you like him too, he’ll think he’s still got a chance. Just say —
I had a good time. Work’s
super busy right now. I’ll get
back to you.
“I think you should see him one more time, break it off in person,” suggested Kate.
“Oh, please. Send him a text, tell him you’ve met someone else. What’s up with that Troy guy?”
Keira was meeting up with him tomorrow, same place as before. He was a creature of habit, it seemed. It was the last time she’d be seeing him, though, and told Kate and Molly her conclusion with the whole MateMatch thing.
“So, yeah. I’m over it. It’s been... interesting, but it’s just a distraction. Although... Eh, never mind.”
Molly and Kate exchanged raised eyebrows. In unison they said,
“Although what?”
Keira sighed and hesitated, then bounced forward in her seat, looking from one woman to the other and said,
“Okay. So, there’s this one guy on there. He’s—there’s something about him. I mean, he’s like... I keep going back to his profile and like, staring at his eyes. It’s crazy, right? I don’t understand why he’s affecting me like this.”
After another arched brow exchange, Kate said to Keira,
“Go get your laptop. We need to see for ourselves.”
Keira had hoped they’d say that. She had no delusions about her poor judgment when it came to men. Her track record spoke volumes. It would be good to get a different perspective before she jumped in for once.
“Okay. Ready? Give me your honest opinion. If you say he’s a no go, I’ll put him out of my head, move on, and be done with this whole nonsense. I mean—”
“Holy shit, open the damn profile and shut up,” exclaimed Molly.
“Fine. Fine, here. This is him. BLUE4606. Look at his eyes. Right?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m looking, I’m looking. Hmm. Cute, definitely. Kate?”
“Yup, he’s a hottie. No need to think about Clooney when you’re under that one.”
“Wait,” cautioned Molly, causing Keira to deflate a little, “is he wearing a wife-beater? That’s a hard no. Oh, but in this one, he’s got dogs. That gets him a maybe. He’s on a boat in this one. His, you think?”
“Could be. So, okay— now look at—”
“His eyes. We know.”
“I'm weird, yes. But I can’t help it. Do you think I should—”
“Done.”
“Done? What do you mean, ‘done’? What did you do, Molly?”
“I sent him a wave. Well, you sent him a wave. Now he’ll either wave back or send you a message. Can we move on now to where we’re going to eat? I’m starving.”
“Yes, yes.” Glancing down at her phone, she shrugged and said, “I’ll deal with Jason later. Let’s go eat.”
The women enjoyed the rest their night out. The conversations ranged from discussing their kids, divorce, recipes, and the next school year. They pushed all talk of men and dating to the back burner. At the end of the night, with the dogs and the quiet house, Keira admitted to herself that it was nice to have a break from parental responsibility (as long as it was only for a short while) and practice being Keira, the independent, single adult woman. She vowed to herself that she would live in the moment and worry less about the past and the future.
As good as that sounded, though, she’d still have to deal with both Troy and Jason. It filled her with dread as she hated confrontations and hurting people’s feelings. Although she justified, it’s only been a handful of dates, so neither could be terribly wounded. First up would be Troy.
Oh, this should go swimmingly. Let’s skip right to it, yes?
“So, Troy, I’ve been thinking, and—”
“I have, too, Keira. There’s something I want to say if you don’t mind my going first?”
“Oh, I— well, maybe…”
Keira was not naïve. Gullible at times, but not naïve. Her intuition was telling her that Troy was not on the same page as she was. The pale peach rose he’d brought her, the puppy dog eyes, and the nervousness was all dead giveaways he wanted to ask her to —
“Be my girlfriend. I realize we’re only on our second date, but we have a connection, Keira. You can feel it, can’t you? I’ve already closed my MateMatch profile so you can see, I’m serious.”
“Wow. I, uh, I’m not sure what to say, Troy. This is so, so—”
Insane. Awful. Bizarre. Creepy.
“—sweet. So sweet of you, really. Can I have a little time to, um, think about it?”
More like time to run the fucking hell away.
Keira excused herself to the ladies’ room, from which she called Molly immediately.
“What the fuck, princess, you can really pick ‘em, can’t you?”
“Yeah, right? So, what do I do?”
“Hang tight, me and the ladies will be there in ten. Stall him till we get there.”
“You’re the best. Hurry.”
Childish? Yes. Unkind? She supposed so. Funny? Why yes. Yes, it all really was kind of funny. Looking in the mirror, Keira scowled at herself.
Well, kid, you wanted adventure, right? Maybe next time, try bungee jumping or zip-lining, okay?
When she arrived back at the table, Troy stood and took her hand in an overly chivalrous gesture and guided her to her seat. The moment she sat, he continued pleading his case.
“We’re perfectly matched. I compared our profiles, everything lines up exactly. It’s fate, Keira. Don’t you agree?”
The waiter’s arrival spared her from responding. Keira asked what all the specials were, then for him to repeat the first two.
“And is the bass farm-raised or wild?”
“Wild, ma’am.”
“How is that prepared?”
“Grilled or broiled, ma’am.”
“Ah, very nice. And the chicken is it—”
“Free range. Rotisserie style.”
“Excellent. Excellent.”
At last, she ran out of questions. The waiter and Troy stared at her.
“I think I’ll— go with... the… salmon.”
“The salmon? Very well, ma’am.”
The waiter, if she was not mistaken, looked quite relieved to be finished with her order. Once he’d walked away, Troy began again. Or at least tried to.
“So, Keira. Have you thought about—”
“Damn. Sorry, there’s something in my eye. Ladies’ room.”
Again, she stood and hurried through the restaurant to the women’s restroom, ignoring the curious glance from the bartender as she swore under her breath. She fixed her makeup, paced a few moments, attempted to pee again, washed her hands and waved them under the dryer until they were completely and utterly dry. When she could stall no more, she walked out, and directly into the bartender, who had apparently been lurking outside the ladies’ room door.
“Sorry, ma’am. I— excuse me. Are you here with Mr. Peirson?”
The effeminately handsome young man cut his eyes towards the patio of the restaurant where they both saw Troy drum his fingers on the tabletop.
“Um, yes? Yes, I mean, I am. Why do you ask?”
“Do you know him well?” Again, he glanced outside, making Keira decidedly wary of her dinner companion.
“No, this is our second date. Why?”
“It’s just— listen, honey, you look like a nice lady. That guy is a real creep, okay? Everyone here can’t stand
him.” With flamboyant hands, he ticked off a checklist of failings. “He’s rude, condescending, and I’m sorry, but he’s a real—,” another surreptitious glance before he leaned in close and hissed, “asshole. Shit. You’re not gonna get me fired, are you?”
“For trying to save me from an… asshole?” Keira chuckled a little. “No, of course not. Thank you. No worries, this will be the last time I’ll be seeing him. Thank you for your concern.”
“Honey, I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t speak up. Oh, and you might want to leave that behind.”
Toilet paper stuck to her heel.
The moment she sat back down across from eager-creeper Troy, a blessedly familiar voice rang out across the patio.
“Keira. Keira Travis, is that you? I thought it was.”
Molly, laying it on thick, bee-lined for their table, Kate, and Lilly in tow.
“What? What a surprise. I didn’t realize you girls would be here. Oh, Troy, these are my dear friends, Molly, Kate, and Lilly. Ladies this is Troy.”
“Nice to, uh, meet… all of you.”
“Great to meet you, too, Troy. Oh, that looks like a great wine.”
“It’s a— oh, would you like to try it?”
Troy offered his just poured glass to Molly, probably expecting her to decline, but he didn’t know Molly.
“I’d love too. Thanks. Mind if we join you kids? We’re cramped in that corner back there, and looks like you’ve got plenty of room here, right?”
Kate and Lilly and Molly blinked and smiled at a noticeably flustered Troy. He tried to mask it with a smile, but his hand fisted on the table and twitching eye told a different story. It fueled her to reply for him,
“Of course, we’d love the company.”
“Right. Yes, of course. Ladies, please…”
As Troy spoke, he signaled to the waiter, who promptly brought extra chairs for the women. It was if they’d rehearsed and perfected the ‘crash a date’ routine. They talked and laughed in an almost non-stop stream, offering little to no opportunity for Troy to interject.
“Well, ladies, this has been lovely, but I think—”
“Oh, Keira. You’re still coming over to help me with… that thing I needed you to help me with, right?” Molly gave Keira a theatric, not-so-subtle, T.V. sitcom style pointed look, then turned to Troy and waved her hand as she said, “Girl stuff, I’m sure you understand, right, buddy?”
“Oh. I, yes. Of course. You, uh, you mean now? Keira, I thought we could go—”
“I’m sorry Troy, I really have to go help Molly with that— her thing. So, we should call it a night,”
The four friends stood, Keira pulling half of the linen tablecloth with her as she did.
“Damn. Sorry. White, it’ll come out with—”
“Keira,” exclaimed Molly.
“But I’ll call you. Tomorrow. Bye. Oh, and thank you, and sorry again,” Keira called behind her as her friends dragged her out.
The women bustled Keira through the full patio wedged between them as if Troy might hold her hostage at their table. They’d made more than a small scene, and several of the patrons were watching them with varying degrees of interest and annoyance. It mortified Keira, but more than anything, she was relieved to be out of there and away from the now moniker'd Creepy Troy.
“Ladies, you are my heroes.”
“Oh, that was fun,” exclaimed Kate, “let’s not be done with the evening. Where shall we go now?”
“Oh, Kate. I’m exhausted after that fiasco,” Keira yawned for emphasis.
“Bullshit, princess,” said Molly. “Your girls are in Florida. Eric has the girls, Tony is home with Kate’s bunch, and Lilly has news for us. We’re staying out. But only for two more hours. I have to study for a test,” Molly led the way, pulling Keira by the arm.
“Okay, okay. You win. Lilly, good news, I hope?”
Lilly smiled and nodded, then said, “Let’s wait till we’re all sitting down.”
They left the very chic strip of restaurants and boutiques in favor of the more casual area one block over, far enough away from being spotted by Creepy Troy, yet close enough to leave their cars behind and walk. They decided on an Irish pub that smelled of beer, French fries, and corned beef. The women grabbed a booth in the back at Keira’s request. As they sat down, Keira explained that she had the paranoid fear that Troy was looking for her. It was silly, she supposed.
“But I’m really going to listen to my intuition from now on.”
“Good. Not that we mind crashing your dates and drinking expensive wine.”
“Agh, Molly, girls— thank you again. Okay, enough about my drama. Lilly, what is your news?”
“Okay, so remember how I said Billy, and I were going to a couple’s retreat? Well, that wasn’t where we went.”
Lilly paused, held her breath, and looked at each friend. The three women waited and watched her expectantly, puzzled smiles on their lips.
“Billy and I were meeting… our new daughter.”
“What.” All three exclaimed.
“I know, I know, it seems so sudden, but we wanted to keep it quiet in case things fell through. After all our— well, after all the difficulties we’ve had… I couldn’t bear any more sympathy and pity. You understand, right?”
“Oh, Lilly, of course, we understand,” said Keira. “More details.”
“Well, she’s two weeks old, and we named her—” Lilly made use of the dramatic pause again, “Iliana.”
“No way. Not Milly? I bet poor Billy is devastated,” laughed Molly.
“Oh, please. He is over the moon, we both are. She’s perfect and beautiful, and we are so in love with her already.”
They all took turns hugging Lilly as they wiped happy tears from their eyes.
“Well, shit. We need to throw you a party,” shouted Molly.
“Yes. When do we get to meet Iliana?”
For the next hour, the women bombarded Lilly with questions and ideas, all of which she clearly
enjoyed and appreciated as she filled in all the blanks for her amazed friends. They ordered drinks and talked nonstop until Lilly sighed with a contented smile.
“Oh, ladies, this has been wonderful, but I must get home to Billy and Iliana—”
“Wait a minute,” exclaimed Molly “Iliana? So, her nickname would be... Illy. Oh, my God. Billy, Lilly, and Illy White.”
Molly clapped her hands in delight, and they all laughed.
“Took you long enough, Molly. Yes, we call her Illy. Are you happy?”
“Thrilled, absolutely thrilled. God, I love that husband of yours.”
The ladies walked Keira back to her car, deciding that they should see her off just in case Creepy Troy was lurking around. She thanked them again and headed straight home, relieved for herself and so happy for her dear friend. At that moment, driving along the familiar streets of her hometown, Keira was grateful. Her life was getting on track. She loved her job. Her kids were adjusting. Darren was mostly behaving. Everything was good.
Oh, dear. You’re about to sad-spiral, aren’t you? Don’t do it, Keira, don’t—
Except for the fact that the kids were a million miles (okay, 1,500 miles) away from her and she couldn’t get to them immediately if they needed her. She was always in fear of losing her job. And for the first time in her entire life, she was on her own. Not to mention that her stalker-ish ex-boyfriend was working across the street until God knew when.
She was spinning towards an anxiety attack, and willed herself to breathe, just breathe. You’re okay, Keira. You’re okay. One day at a time. Happy clichés, happy clichés. Time alone with your thoughts is a blessing and a curse. She supposed it was why she liked to be busy all the time. Outwork and outrun the fears and doubts. Chug along and hope for the best. The calm, logical side of her brain reminded the panicky side that everyone was dealing with their own version of the same fears, it was normal. Adulting was hard and scary, but millions and millions of people get throug
h it every day, so buck up and shut up, buttercup.
There’s my girl. Stiff upper lip is how it’s done.
Back home, Keira considered calling Violet and Lola one more time but realized if she did, then Violet would worry. She’d always behaved like a miniature adult from the time she could talk. The divorce had only intensified the trait, causing her to be ultra-sensitive to both Darren and Keira’s feelings, real or perceived. The therapist they’d taken the girls to— albeit briefly— claimed it was a typical response for an older sibling. Hearing that hadn’t made it any less concerning.
The upside of Violet’s sensitivity was that it forced Darren to chill out with his underhanded stunts and nastiness. As for Keira, it forced her to keep her big girl pants on and learn how to ‘fake it till you make it.’ Only, at that moment, she was alone— except for Murphy and Silas, who greeted her happily at the door and were oblivious to her pity party sniffles. As she was about to give in to self-pity and have a good cry, her phone rang. Her heart stopped when she saw Darren’s name on the screen.
“What’s wrong? The girls okay?”
“Whoa, easy there Keir. They’re fine. Dad took them for a ride on the golf cart. I’m checking in on you, actually.”
“On me? Really? I mean, why?”
“I was— listen. Can I just say... I’m sorry. For like, everything. I was an asshole. If it weren’t for me, we’d still be a family. So, yeah. I’m sorry.”
Keira was silent for a moment, unsure what to say, how to react. Sincere Darren was not a familiar persona. Part of her wanted to yell ‘no shit, Darren’ and blast him with every single shitty rotten thing he’d ever said and done. There was plenty to choose from. The other part said, ‘remember his good qualities.’ That part wanted a peaceful life and said to accept the apology and move on. It was, after all the first time in the nearly two years post-divorce he’d ever apologized for anything.
“Wow. I, uh, wasn’t expecting this. I appreciate you saying that.”
It wasn’t exactly an acceptance More an acknowledgment. It was the best she could do.
“Keir, do you ever think about… do you wish we’d worked out?”