There Are No Men

by Carol Maloney Scott

  “I haven’t seen him but I bet doctors don’t get to leave work as early as we do. He’ll be here. Just try to relax and think happy thoughts, and I’ll see you and your stilts soon.”

  I say goodbye and continue my crawl towards the officers and their important agenda. I shouldn’t be so nervous about Nathan. I don’t even know him.

  It’s finally my turn and I pull up to the cop, who is young but quite serious looking.

  “Good evening, Ma’am. Can I see your license, please?” He peers at me with that cop look that always scares me.

  I fumble around in my purse and find my wallet, handing him my license with a big, fake smile. “Here you go, Officer.”

  He takes it and studies it intently. I want to ask what he’s looking for, but I’m afraid to incur his wrath. He hands it back to me after what seems like an eternity and sets his gaze on Dixie’s car carrier, which I haven’t bothered to remove since I took her to the vet.

  “Do you have a baby in there, Ma’am?” He is dead serious.

  I pause before responding with any one of the smart mouth thoughts running through my head. I know police officers deal with the general population and all its loonies, but do I look like someone who would put a baby in a dog carrier?

  I stifle a grin and say, “No, Officer, of course not. That’s a dog carrier.”

  “Is there a dog in there now?” Is he kidding? He’s not smiling. What the hell difference does it make if there’s a dog in the dog carrier? Is there a wanted poodle on the loose?

  “No, she’s at home. The restaurant I’m going to doesn’t allow pets.” Be careful, Claire! “Is there something specific you are looking for today? I know it’s probably not my business to ask, but I’m a little confused.” I’m rambling and the cop is staring at me like I’m an idiot, even though he is clearly the mayor of Idiotville. However, they let him have a gun.

  He is still not saying anything, and just when I fear he is going to slap the cuffs on me for snarky remarks he replies, “No, Ma’am. Just a routine check. Good night.” And he waves me on. I have no idea what any of that was about. I wish I had a hovercraft so I could avoid driving on roads altogether, but with my luck I would crash into birds or get accosted by an air traffic controller.

  Shaking off the weirdness of that awkward waste of time, I pull into the Charter House parking lot and astonishingly it’s still light out. I am told the sunset on the lake is beautiful from the deck. If I can find a parking spot, and walk in these shoes, I’ll get there before I miss it. Suddenly my footwear confidence is waning. I see a cobblestone path that looks like it leads to the deck.

  I find a reasonably close spot, but I will still need to navigate the ancient walking path. Why does anyone think it’s quaint and charming to have roads made of any non-paved surface? In the past they didn’t have pavement because it wasn’t invented yet.

  I brace myself and pray that I won’t start out the evening on the ground. It is rough going—luckily there are some trees to grab onto. A couple is walking towards me now and I stand still and pretend to be looking at something fascinating on my phone, so they don’t witness my struggle and offer to call for assistance. Once they are out of sight I try to move as quickly as my compromised balance will allow, and hope my ankles hold up.

  I miraculously make it to the deck, still standing. I pause for a moment and take in the view. The lake is beautiful and the sun is beginning to go down over the water in a brilliant array of reds, oranges and pinks. How nice it would be to have someone special to share it with. My peaceful day dreaming is interrupted by my name coming from a loud and shrill source.

  “Claire! Look, Andy, it’s Claire from Lorenzo’s. Rebecca’s friend.” Sherry must think Andy is going deaf, senile or both.

  Andy nods his head in recognition, and they both head in my direction, as I slowly make my way to the main deck area. There are two tiers, the top one containing a large bar and numerous high top tables. The lower deck is close to the water and features dining tables. There are tons of people here and I am actually grateful that I’ve been noticed by friendly faces.

  “Hi, guys. This place is great. It’s nice to see you both again.” I am genuinely cheerful now that I have finally arrived and my exasperating trip here is over.

  They both greet me with a warm welcome, including big hugs. Apparently this group is heavily into hugging. Rebecca had forewarned me.

  “Don’t you look so pretty, and so tall again! Rebecca is over at the bar talking to some new guy.” My eyes quickly dart in that direction to see if she’s talking to my new guy. I immediately see that the shorter blond man she’s with looks absolutely nothing like my man. I silently chastise myself for laying claim to someone I haven’t met, and thinking, even for a nano-second, that Rebecca would make a move on a guy I’m dying to meet.

  I turn back to Sherry, who is waiting for me to speak. “Thanks Sherry, you look nice, too. Have you guys been here before?”

  “The group comes here a couple of Fridays a month in warm weather. We’re so glad you’re here. Sherry and I were just having a laugh about Lorenzo’s. When you fell I just about died. I didn’t know what the hell to do. It wasn’t funny at the time, but now it’s hilarious, don’t you think? I mean you crashed into the most popular cover band in Richmond!” Andy is bent over in peals of laughter now.

  Sherry is giggling nervously because she appears smart enough to know I may not find it funny that I was not only humiliated, but suffered a concussion. Well, practically. “Hey Andy, why don’t you be a gentleman and grab me and Claire a couple of drinks. Is white wine okay, Claire? I find it so refreshing in the warmer weather.”

  Sherry is clearly from Iceland because it is not that warm out, and I am starting to regret my summery attire. She must hail from a frozen land of tiny fairies, as her forehead is moist with perspiration. I look down at her and reply, “That would be lovely.”

  “Put it on my tab, Andy,” she says to him as he disappears into the crowd, looking a little sheepish since his joke didn’t go over well.

  Sherry turns back to me with a concerned look and touches my arm. “I am so sorry for that knucklehead. Men—I swear. Are you okay now? That was a bad fall.”

  “I’m fine, really. He didn’t mean any harm and someday I’ll find it funny, too.” I smile and we stand in silence for a moment as I begin to scour the area for Nathan.

  “Are you looking for someone special?” I am not going to tell Sherry anything. These groups are gossip mills, which is another Rebecca tip.

  “No, I’m just taking it all in.” I smile as Andy returns with our wine and apologizes.

  “Think nothing of it. I will do all I can to avoid another tumble tonight. Thanks for the drink!” We clink glasses and eventually meander away from each other. Everyone is here to meet someone and mingling is key.

  I try to locate Rebecca but I’m intercepted by a woman with short, mousy brown hair wearing khaki pants and a button down shirt. I imagine she came straight from a conservative office because she looks like she’s wearing men’s clothes. She isn’t entirely unattractive, and I have an overwhelming desire to take her to the Urban Decay section at Ulta and spruce up that plain face.

  “Hi, are you new? I’m new.” She extends her hand and I can see she’s nervous.

  I take her hand and introduce myself. “Yes, this is only my second event. I’m Claire.”

  She smiles and shakes my hand a second longer than is comfortable, as if she forgot what she’s supposed to do next. “Silly me, I’m Chris. Nice to meet you. This is my first event.”

  “There are lots of people here and no loud music, so it should be easy to circulate. My first event was dancing to a loud band,” I say as I jokingly cover my ears.

  Since Chris doesn’t know me, she misses my humor. Or maybe she misses humor in general. “I would hate that. It’s loud enough here.”

  I just now notice that there’s a band on the far side of the upper deck. Thank God they aren’t pl
aying jazz, but it’s some kind of reggae? Like island music. I hope no one asks me to dance. How do people dance to reggae? It’s not a salsa…I remember Chris is standing there and reply, “I did like it but my night ended abruptly.”

  “How so?”

  Chris is boring holes through me with her unadorned brown eyes. This poor woman needs to work on her social skills, but I give her credit for coming out.

  I remember the rumor mill and decide to change the subject. “So are you divorced, Chris?” I’m still scanning the deck for Rebecca, Nathan or anyone else I know. As my eyes move back towards the dining area, I do spot someone. My ex-husband. Ron and the Russian blow-up doll are enjoying a cozy waterfront meal. Great. Hopefully, I can avoid them. I slowly steer Chris to the bar out of their line of sight, pointing to my empty glass as she begins her long speech about her divorce. I did ask for it.

  I nod and add a stray word here or there, but she seems to need to talk and I can be a good listener. I have all but given up hope of finding anyone I want to see when Rebecca comes up from behind Chris, and makes a face as if to ask who I’m talking to. I can’t respond in sign language, or any other language, while the woman is right in front of me yapping away.

  “Hey, Claire. Excuse me—hi, I’m Rebecca, Claire’s friend.” She moves in between us and shakes Chris’ hand.

  Chris looks flustered. “Rebecca, this is Chris. She’s new to the group.”

  “Hi, Rebecca. It’s a little overwhelming here, but Claire has been very friendly.”

  “Awesome! I see you don’t have a nametag on. Diane, the organizer, is over there giving them out. She is really good at introducing new people around, too. She knows everyone!”

  Rebecca is a master at this, and I stand back and marvel at her charm. Chris has no idea she is being dismissed, but Rebecca is right. She needs to be sociable for God’s sake, and I need to find my Dr. Charming.

  “I’ll do that. Thank you both.” Chris rushes over to the table where Diane is holding court. As she walks away I make a mental note to schedule a lunch date with Chris. She needs help. Is she even wearing any makeup?

  “Now where the hell have you been?” Rebecca glances down at my shoes and widens her eyes.

  “I don’t even want to hear it. This is only my second drink and these shoes are positively unwavering. Now where is Nathan? Some other woman has probably snatched him up,” I say in a worried tone.

  “I checked with Diane and he hasn’t claimed his nametag, but neither have you, and I threw mine in the first trash can I saw. Have you eaten?” She gives me a suspicious look.

  “Are you my mother? No, I haven’t eaten. It took me forever to get here and then there was that whole bullshit with the cops, and I haven’t been able to escape people who want to talk. However it is a social event, not a free buffet.” I look triumphant after my little speech.

  She sighs and says, “I just don’t want to have to nurse you back to health tonight and drive your crazy little ass home. What if I hook up with a hot guy? Let’s get you some food.”

  I reluctantly let Rebecca lead me to the bar and amazingly we find two empty stools. Rebecca puts my drink down on the bar and asks for menus. “I’m sorry, but you need to be watched.”

  “I really didn’t want to sit on this side of the bar. Ron and his girlfriend are over there eating dinner. But I guess my back is to them and it’s so crowded here. They’ll never see me.”

  “Hey, Claire.” Oh come on!

  Exasperated, I turn around. “Hi, Ron. How are you?” I give him a hug that makes my pathetic hug with Brandon at Jane’s resemble a lover’s embrace. This time I’m only touching his air space.

  The blow-up doll clears her throat and I extend my hand. “Hi, I’m Claire and you must be…”

  “Natasha.” She gives me a weak handshake and a shy look.

  Rebecca is now introducing herself—friendly as always.

  Natasha. She’s Russian and her name is Natasha? What a cliché! I recall what Roberta said, and suppress a laugh. If she was a Russian blow-up doll that’s what he’d name her—I guarantee that’s the only Russian name he knows.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I regret this question instantly because I will now be forced to reply to the same inquiry.

  “Just having dinner. Beautiful sunset here. You girls just having one of those girls’ nights out Claire likes so much?”

  I feel the sarcasm in his comment. Yes, I do like to go out without the man in my life once in a while. Is that a crime? Clearly this woman must be more submissive and clingy.

  Luckily, even though his question is obnoxious, he gives me an out so I don’t feel compelled to admit I have joined a single’s group. “Yep, it’s a GNO tonight.”

  We are all nodding and smiling, and no one is coming up with any topics of conversation. Natasha breaks the silence.

  “It is good to meet you, Claire. I have heard much about you.” She has a strong accent. I fight the urge to ask her where she’s from or what brought her here. I would rather not prolong this exchange.

  “I bet you have, and it’s a pleasure meeting you, too.” I shoot Ron my biggest smile and I hope he is too dumb or intoxicated to notice that I wish the ground would open up and swallow him. What a mess it would be if Nathan appeared right now!

  Natasha appears to sense my discomfort, as well as the general weirdness in the air, and says, “We have to get home. Nice to meet you too, Rebecca. Have a good evening.”

  I avoid Ron’s purposeful eye contact as he turns away, even though I feel the heat of his stare trying to connect with me.

  “That was odd,” Rebecca comments quietly.

  “I ran into an old mutual friend of ours when I was at Dr. Mason’s, and she said she thinks Natasha is a mail order bride.”

  “What?” Rebecca practically spits her drink. “That is ridiculous.”

  I agree, and we proceed to order some appetizers. I’m forced to be content with sipping warm wine because Rebecca won’t let me order any more alcohol until my belly is appropriately lined with food.

  A few more Meetup members have joined us, and we form a little social circle around the bar. Rebecca gets up to go to the ladies’ room and I know she won’t come back for a while. She ordered all of that food just for me, and now has her eye on another guy.

  Rebecca is gone, I want another damn drink and there is still no sign of Nathan. This is looking like another disappointing night, but I intend to make the best of it with the good company right here.

  “Claire, you look sad.” Chris has returned to this side of the bar.

  “There was this guy I was hoping to meet here tonight, but he hasn’t shown up.” I pick up one of my stuffed mushrooms and take a small bite, and make a face—the food is already cold.

  “That’s a bad sign. I mean him not showing up. But you’re so pretty—you’ll definitely meet someone.” Chris is as innocent as a little lamb who hasn’t been to the slaughter yet.

  I smile and go back to my food. There is the usual clamor of conversation and laughter around me. Brandon’s party tomorrow is going to be yet another disappointment. I should have called him to smooth things over.

  Suddenly, in the din of voices I hear a hearty, super loud laugh. This guy is forcing it big time. No one here is that funny. Can’t people just be themselves? My curiosity gets the better of me, and I abandon my cold food to see who this buffoon is on the other end of that annoying voice. Then I stop and stare. It’s him. Nathan has a booming voice and jolly laugh. Dr. Nathan. He’s here after all.

  “Hey, Nathan,” I hear some guy say, “She’s over here. That girl Claire—the blond one— she’s back.” He points to me like he’s found buried treasure, and I shrink a little as all eyes in the group turn my way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  He makes his way through the crowd of wide eyed gawkers with surprising ease. “Claire? I’ve been searching all over for you! I’m so glad I found you.”

  Nathan takes my hand a
nd helps me off the bar stool, looking at me as if appraising a diamond. I navigate the short drop from the stool to the ground without twisting my ankle, and immediately notice that he’s still taller than me. His dark hair is sleeked back and he’s wearing black slacks and a striped button down shirt, with the cuffs slightly rolled up. He does resemble a younger Alec Baldwin, only slimmer and more expensive looking.

  “Yes, I’m Claire. I was looking for you, too. I think half the people in Richmond are here tonight,” I nervously reply.

  “I know, it’s crazier than the downtown ER on a Friday night, except no one is bleeding.” He laughs at his medical joke. “Let’s see if we can find a quiet corner somewhere to get better acquainted, shall we?” He takes care of ordering a fresh drink for me, as well as paying my bar tab. I protest but he ignores me. For once maybe I should just let a man take care of me and enjoy myself.

  Miraculously, we find a corner table towards the back edge of the patio. It doesn’t have a great view of the water and that’s probably why it’s empty. However, I don’t think either one of us is interested in the lake any longer. As we set our drinks down, Nathan pulls out the chair and I work on climbing up on the seat gracefully.

  “So this was a great coincidence that we both joined this group around the same time. I was hesitant to call you. Melanie means well, but as a doctor I do need to be careful of my professional reputation when dating.”

  I stop staring into his deep brown eyes long enough to say, “It was weird for me too when she told me about you. I was getting dressed at the time, after all.” I laugh and blush a little. I can hear Rebecca’s voice in my head telling me to loosen up. “I had honestly forgotten all about that exchange and assumed you weren’t going to call, or maybe she had decided against giving you my number after all.”

  “Thank goodness she did, and I saw your name and made the connection. So tell me a little about yourself. I’m dying to get to know the real Claire.”

  He has a dazzling smile.

  I shift in my seat and begin to tell him the usual information—occupation, family background, I’m from New York, etc. I am starting to bore myself with my story and I’m leaving out all the personal parts, such as my divorce and hysterectomy. I suddenly panic—maybe Dr. Mason or Melanie told him, but that would be super unprofessional and decide against it.