by Elsa Kurt
“Darren, have you been drinking?”
It explained this sudden sensitive version of her ex-husband. Keira wanted to like it, but it made her uncomfortable and annoyed. Did she ever wish they’d worked out? She had been blindly in love with him for most of their marriage. Of course she’d wanted them to work out. She drifted through those years like a sleepwalker, lost in a dream that was all pretend. But she woke up and saw the truth, saw him without the blinders on. She came to think of him as the ever-villain. The obnoxious jerk she tolerated for her kids’ sake. Perhaps this sweet version of him— the one that reminded her of when they first met— was legitimate. But Keira saw the other side of Darren Travis too, and she would never be so gullible again. Darren was a top salesman nine-year running for a very good reason. He was a world-class bullshitter.
“Yeah, a few beers. Sorry. So, uh, can I ask you… are you dating anyone? It’s none of my business, you don’t have to tell me.”
Keira sighed, then answered, “You’re right, it isn’t any of your business, but no, not seriously at least. I’ve gone on a few dates.”
And had sex.
“How about you,” she asked after a pause.
“Eh, you know. Guys from work wanna fix me up. Remember Lisa from sales? We’ve been talking, but we’ll see.”
“Lisa? Really? Wow, I thought you two hated each other?”
Keira actually liked Lisa, she was a tough, no-nonsense girl that could dish out as much as she took from those jackasses they worked with at the dealership. Plus, she was probably the only one he hadn’t slept with yet. Darren had always considered her a bitch. Ironic, but Keira thought she’d be perfect for him.
“She’s still a bitch. Whatever. Anyhow, good for you. I’m, uh, glad for you. Is the wuss still bothering you?”
He laughed. No Name had even contacted him, of all people, for advice on how to win Keira back after she’d ended things with him— ah, well, ghosted him. It mortified and infuriated her, further sealing an already nailed coffin for that relationship. She hated that Darren had that ammunition in his arsenal, but there it was.
“No, Darren, he’s not. I mean, he’s working across the street at the Lawson’s house, so there’s that. But no contact in a couple months.” Then, needed to change the topic, “So, the girls are having a good time, sounds like?”
“Yeah, yeah. They’re great, Dad’s really enjoying spending time with them. Listen, Keir, no matter how things ended with us, we made two beautiful kids, didn’t we? We succeeded at that, at least.”
“Yes, we sure did, Darren.”
“All right, well, I’ll let you go. Sorry for talking your ear off.”
“No worries. Bye, Darren.”
She ended the call and stared down at her phone. She was still in the foyer with her keys and purse in her hand, and in what may be considered a dramatic fashion, shook her head and growled at the ceiling.
“Damn you, Darren.”
She liked hating Darren. It fueled her conviction to divorce him and fired her up to succeed, just to spite him. That hate had propelled her into the next stage of her life, even dating again— not that it had worked out well. Now she was confronted with an emotion best left avoided. Without that anger, she’d just have sadness. And sadness sucked.
“Fuck. Time for some distraction.”
After Keira had brought the dogs out, locked up the house, and taken a bath, she checked her emails. The first several were spam. She deleted them one by one, her eyes glazing over as she did. Bill notice, already paid, delete, Big sale, delete, invitation, delete, MateMatch message from BLUE4606, delete…
Oh, might want to check that one, no?
She quickly switched over to her recently deleted messages and restored the one from Mr. Interesting Eyes, acknowledging the adolescent giddiness in which she did so, but not caring. Keira clicked the ‘open’ tab and read.
Okay, ya got me interested. Two little dogs
and Elvis?. LOL. So, my name is Kyle, by
the way. Kind of new to this whole online
dating thing, which probably sounds
like B.S., but it’s true. Been divorced about 8
months, no kids. I see you have two, that’s cool.
Anyhow, look forward to hearing back from you.
Kyle
Time received, three hours ago. She could respond now without it looking desperate.
Guilty as charged, Elvis, kids, dogs = my world.
Saw your profile, but I guess
you know that already. I think this is the part where
we exchange basic details and decide if we want
to meet at some point? Oh, I’m Keira, by the way.
She clicked send, smiling a stupid smile. Kyle. She loved that name. The name brought her back in time to the infamous Roller Skate Palace, year— 1984 and the first boy she’d ever kissed. His name was Kyle. He was so cute and tall, with shoulder length sandy brown hair and a dimple. A stranger from another town there with his group of friends. They’d smiled and flirted with each other as they skated around the huge oval rink, strobe lights and disco balls flashing and spinning as Prince blasted through the speakers. Finally, they met up by the long benches outside the arena.
“Hey, I’m Kyle. What’s your name?”
“Keira. Hi.”
“Holy crap, dude, kiss her.”
His friends whizzed by them in a flurry, skating circles around them and chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss.” Keira’s friends were no better, whooping and cheering from their spot inside the rink. The tall, handsome boy and Keira smiled in embarrassment at one another, then he shrugged. Keira attempted a cute, flirty hair flip as a child rolled behind her, arms held wide as he shuffled past. Her elbow clocked him square in the forehead, he grabbed her shirt-tail as he fell backward. She would’ve landed on top of the startled boy if not for Kyle, who in one deft movement lifted Keira up and spun them away from the kid. Instead of setting her down, he pulled her close and kissed her, her first French kiss. It was so shocking and sudden and romantic— except for the boy crying for his mother behind them— and over just as quickly, thanks to one of his idiot friends throwing a handful of arcade game tokens over them, pretending it was confetti. They pulled him away, and within minutes she lost him in a crowd of skaters. She left before saying goodbye and never saw him again.
Such a silly thing to remember with such fondness. The chime of her email notification brought Keira back to present. It was him, new Kyle, responding already.
Hey Keira. Pretty name for a pretty lady. Ugh,
that was so lame and cliché, wasn’t it? And I see
what you did there, put it on me to give up the
411 first. Slick, very slick. All right, here goes—minus
stuff you already know from my profile. My dogs are
Whiskey and Bailey (I figured you wanted to know that
first). I was in the Marines, Desert Storm. I’m a city police
officer— detective specifically, have been for more than
twenty-five years. Thought I’d better put that out there
right away. It’s a deal breaker for some people, which
I understand.
Tag, you’re it...
Keira hadn’t realized that she had been smiling through the whole reading. Her first reaction to learning he was a police officer was a typical woman reaction to a man in uniform— that’s hot. Then she paused and gave his following words more consideration. It’s a deal breaker for some people. Yes, she could understand that. The danger, the worry, the reputation... the women who found men in uniform hot. Did she want to step into that kind of world? She clicked on his profile again, looking at his pictures with a new appreciation.
Well, war and law enforcement for twenty-five years explained everything about ‘those eyes.’ Those eyes had seen the worst in humanity, things she couldn’t even imagine, and it showed. She made up her mind even before she consciously knew it. She returned to the message and
typed her reply.
I’ll forgive the ‘lame cliché’ in hopes that it was a
genuinely meant compliment. I’ll go in order. awesome
names for your boys, mine are Silas and Murphy. No idea
why. Just took a vote on names and Voila.
Marine and a police officer? Wow. Impressed, not put off.
Though it did give me pause, to be honest. Obv. you’ve
seen the worst in people. How do you stay grounded?
Tag…
She hoped she wasn’t being to ‘heavy’ for a MateMatch exchange, but there was something so… compelling about him. She looked at the time. Past one in the morning. Despite her sleepiness, she waited another half hour for a response. When it didn’t come, she felt somewhat foolish. She’d scared him off by going deep-ish. Or he wasn’t grounded at all and was a nut job. Or perhaps he was asleep like a normal person. At last, she closed the laptop and her eyes, trying to put the events of the long, strange day out of her mind.
Really now, juggling three men? Aren’t we getting a bit carried away? Honestly.
9 PULL OUT YOUR DRAMA-METER
Chapter Eight in The Smart Woman’s Guide To Dating. Perhaps by now you’ve probably mastered the art of playing the field and have tired of it. That’s okay. But have you really experienced all there is to taste in that wide-open ocean of men? Don’t limit yourself so soon. Stay out there and swim. *Cautiously, of course.
“All right, Keira, where are we at in the countdown for the girls return?” asked Kate.
“Ah, thank you for asking, and for the coffee. Four more days. Four long, long days,” Keira said.
“Well, keep keeping busy, the last ones will fly by, and you can commiserate with the rest of us about how much our kids are driving us nuts.”
Molly and Kate clinking coffee cups in solidarity.
“Oh, but this little ray of sunshine doesn’t drive us nuts, though, does she?” Lilly ogled and cooed at little Iliana, who cooed right back. She was a beautiful baby and perfectly behaved and sleeping through the night.
“Oh, give it time, newbie, give it time.”
“Hush, Molly. Hangovers make you even more crotchety than usual.”
In fact, they were all (except Lilly) hung over. Kate and Tony had thrown their annual post-Fourth of July bash, and they had their yearly hangovers to prove it. The day after coffee date was a ritual. They sat bleary-eyed and queasy, surveying the wreckage from the party around Kate’s pool and yard.
“Hey, you’s girls want for some bacon an’ eggs?”
“Jesus, Christ, Tony, stop yelling. Obviously, we want bacon and eggs.”
“Yo, settle down babe, I got this. Hello ladies, hope you’s all had a good time last night.”
Tony smirked and whistled as he swiped a hairy arm across the nearest tabletop, knocking red plastic cups and blue paper plates into a black trash bag. Somehow, Tony never got a hangover, an annoying yet helpful skill that Kate grudgingly appreciated. Especially when it came time to clean up from their infamous parties. The women grumbled their thanks and sipped their coffees.
“Jesus Christ, Tony. Leave it for now and go make the food. Please.”
“Junior is already on it, relax babe—”
“All right, all right. Just… shhhh.”
“You two lovebirds remind me that romance isn’t dead,” Molly’s voice dripped in sarcasm.
“Oh, hey, speaking of romance— what’s the latest in the adventures of Molly and Keira in Dating-land?”
“Yeah,” added Kate, “give us the goods.”
“Puh-lease,” yawned Molly, “it’s been a total joke. If the guy isn’t a liar, my mother and Eric are ruining my night. Whatever, I’m over it.”
“Oh, Mol,” groaned Lilly.
“Poor Eric,” added Kate.
Before Molly swore at Kate, Keira jumped in.
“Now, Molly, it wasn’t all bad. Harley number three wants to go out again, right?”
“Doesn’t matter, those two will sabotage it again. Tell ‘em your drama, princess.”
“Oh, stop, no drama here.”
“Ha. Let me pull out my drama-meter and measure…” Molly rolled her eyes.
The three women raise their eyebrows at her.
She exclaimed, “What? Okay, fine. A little drama. Let’s see, you obviously heard about the whole creepy Troy thing— well, he’s still messaging. Not taking the hint, I guess. Don’t say it—I should tell him to fuck off. Um, oh, and Jason— Yacht Boy, I mean. So, remember I was kind of, like, phasing him out? Well, he got us tickets to see Lindsey Buckingham at the Warren Theatre, and well, now I’m torn between doing the right thing which is turning him down or going with him to see Lindsey. I mean, it’s Lindsey fricking Buckingham. Stop judging me, you heartless bitches. Let’s see what else? Oh, Darren called the other night, drunk, and apologized for everything that ever went wrong in our marriage and asked if I was dating. It was super awkward and totally weird. I think that’s it.”
No, it’s not.
“Oh, and No Name is still across the street at the Lawson’s. He tried to ambush me yesterday when I got the mail. So, I jumped in the mail truck and told— okay, yelled at— him to drive as fast as that hunk of tin would go. I guess I scared poor Harry— our mailman— so badly that he asked for a transfer. Can you believe they actually called this morning from the post office to inform me I am forbidden to jump into any U.S. Postal trucks again? As if I do it regularly. Ridiculous. Well, that’s it.”
After a pause Molly’s head came up from her folded arms, and she deadpanned, “You forgot Mr. fucking Interesting Eyes.”
She put it back down.
“Ahh, yes… him. Okay so, his name is Kyle. I love that name. Do you guys remember that super cute boy from Skate Palace? Remember, he was…” She stopped upon seeing their exasperated expressions, then re-started, back on track, “Anyhow, turns out he’s a police officer and a Marine. Wow right? But, listen, he seems really sweet and funny. We’ve been messaging back and forth. Oh, and he’ll be calling today. I’m nervous. It’s silly, I suppose.”
“Damn, breathe girl,” laughed Kate.
“You call that a little drama? Wow, Keira. A cop, huh? That’s hot. Marine, too? Damn, woman,” Lilly high-fived her and laughed.
“Uh, nobody sees any red flags? Yacht Boy— still hanging around. Creepy Troy— still hanging around. No Name. Yup. Last but not least, Darren the Dick. Never going the fuck away. Now, as far as Mr. Interesting, all I can say is, remember the wife-beater tee he had on? He might be one of those macho, big ego cops. They get a lot of ass, those guys. Just sayin’. Be careful with that one.”
“Oh, stop, Debbie Downer,” Kate made a swatting motion at Molly and continued, “Keira, I say, have fun, live it up, but be careful, that’s all. Perhaps tie up those, uh, loose ends, right? And that Mr. Interesting? If I remember right, he had a fine looking body, so live it up for me, too, will ya?”
“Whazzmatta wit’ this bod, right here? Eh?” Tony bellowed from the slider door, a platter of food in his hands.
In his defense, Tony still looked good. Sure, he had a bit of a belly, was on the short side, but he had a full head of hair, broad chest and even patronized the gym semi-regularly. All in all, Kate had it good still. As she appraised Tony, Keira compared him to Darren, who was borderline obsessed with his appearance. He worked out five days a week, ordered protein powder in bulk, and paid sixty-five dollars for a haircut every six weeks. When Keira was pregnant with both girls, he watched her weight as well, even suggesting to her obstetrician that she tell Keira to eat more carrot sticks and celery and lay off the pasta. She was mortified.
“Aww, Tony, we appreciate your Dad bod, don’t we ladies?” said Molly.
They all praised Tony’s physique, so he set down the platter and flexed and posed to their catcalls. Kate slapped him on his tracksuit covered ass and sent him back inside the house, laughing as she did.
“Yeah, yeah, he’s all r
ight. We’re both a little fluffy these days, but it’s all good. If he’d shut the hell up occasionally, he’d be almost perfect.”
They ate, laughed, and chatted listlessly for another hour before heading off in separate directions to recover. For Keira, that meant attempting some gardening… after several ibuprofen. It was three hours later before she realized she’d left her phone in the house, so she dashed inside to check the time and her messages. Her screen showed that she had one missed call, one voicemail, and one new email. She hit the button to play the message on her voicemail first and heard a masculine yet somehow gentle voice. It was Mr. Interesting Eyes slash Blue4606 slash, Kyle.
‘Hello, Keira. This is Kyle... from Matematch. Man, I feel weird saying that. Anyhow, sorry I missed you. I’m working now, so will be out of reach for a while, but I’ll try you again later. Bye.’
Damn. She’d been looking forward to talking to him finally. Her finger hovered over the ‘delete message’ icon, but she tapped ‘save message’ instead. Next, she checked her email.
Yo, you missed my call. Unacceptable.
Kidding, just kidding. Be advised,
I will be calling you again at approximately
1900 hours. Be ready.
Keira chuckled, noting the difference in his phone message tone, which was formal and almost professional sounding, from his casual, playful email. Interesting. Relatable, too. Like she told Molly when the first signed her up on MateMatch, she was quicker and wittier in print, at least with anyone not in her comfort zone. Maybe he was the same way. Oh, God, did that mean their first conversation would be pathetic? What were they going to say to each other? When the hell was 1900 hours? She did a quick internet search and learned that it meant 7pm. A solid three hours away. Three hours to fret and worry about a phone conversation with a guy she didn’t even know.
What the hell am I so nervous about? He’s just a guy I may not even like once we meet. Chill.