Just Her Type

by Laudat, Reon

  “Good-bye, Kendra.”

  With stark awareness, Kendra shuddered. “Good-bye, Dominic,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter 35

  Dominic had practically handed Kendra the X-Acto blade to de-ball him. Now he felt like a damn fool.

  He’d put everything he had into nurturing a relationship with her. He’d given her his heart, and she’d hook-kicked it right back at him. He stood in his kitchen guzzling coffee the next morning. Sleep had eluded him the night before because he’d sulked and seethed about the shit he’d let her get away with. He called the agency and told Quinton to cancel his appointments. He needed the day off.

  Too bad he couldn’t do the same that evening, but that would mean letting his family down, especially his mother. Up until now, he hadn’t stressed about turning forty. Now, he felt tired, needy, and over the hill. He slammed his fist against the island. Kendra had dumped him over the fucking phone the day before his birthday. He’d focus on the anger to numb the heartache. Damn her!

  Not continuing to fight for her or try to persuade her not to break up with him had been the hardest thing Dominic had ever done. Before they ended the call, he’d assumed a stoic air. This time he would learn from past mistakes:

  When a woman made it perfectly clear she wasn’t ready to move forward with him, he needed to check his damn ego and get the hell up out of there. Resist amateur attempts at psychoanalysis. Resist forcing it.

  Had Dominic been single for so long because he was addicted to launching rescue missions? Had he made a habit of falling for complicated, emotionally unavailable women because he had his own issues with commitment? Or maybe some sick part of him got off on unrequited love.

  Hell, no. He was genuinely at a loss as their explanations pelted him: Too eager. Not eager enough. Too little, too late. Too much, too soon.

  Friend Zone. No Zone. Ozone. Freakin’ Twilight Zone. What in hell did women want from him?

  Forget the excitement of the chase. Breaking that one down. Sweeping this one off her feet. He’d grown weary of the I’m-going-to-make-you-love-me song and mating dance. Sometimes it took more than consideration, forbearance, and all the other co-dependent nonsense that came along with dogging the trail of someone bent on sabotaging her chances at happiness.

  Fact: He couldn’t save Kendra from herself.

  What else was he supposed to do? Go to her agency or apartment and drag her away by her hair? Stage some sort of intervention? He hadn’t intended to blurt out he wanted her to be his wife or that it wouldn’t be the most terrible situation if she were pregnant with his child.

  Dominic had planned to wait a while to proclaim these things, but in a frantic attempt to keep her from sacking his ass, he’d let it all out. Of course his confession had only hastened her retreat.

  What next? It was out of his hands. Nothing left to do. Kendra already knew he was deeply in love with her. Now she had to prove she was worthy of it. Prove she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  To maintain a shred of self-respect, Dominic had to watch and wait.

  Your move, Kendra Porter. Your move.

  ***

  Dominic usually enjoyed spending time with his family, but with wounds so raw after such a devastating breakup, his brothers’ wives and children would underscore what was missing in his own life.

  Man up already.

  He would put on a jolly façade at the dinner party in his honor and make a valiant effort to bask in the camaraderie. He pulled his SUV through the iron gate onto the circular driveway of his parents’ stately residence at eight p.m. He complimented his mother Isabella on her choice of a Victorian Christmas theme that year. Velvet bows and brocade ornaments in rich jewel tones festooned a grand eighteen-foot white fir, his preferred Christmas tree. Its pleasant aroma of fresh oranges filled the entry and long hallway. Marins, from his mother’s side, and Tobiases, who lived within reasonable driving distance, attended. Only brother Cooper and his wife had sent their regrets because they had to attend their children’s holiday school production and the cast after-party. They would fete Dominic’s milestone birthday with a dinner at their home later in the week.

  As steady sleet fell outside, Isabella served some of Dominic’s favorites. He had no appetite, but he forced down just enough to satisfy his hawk-eyed mother. His father Reginald disappeared and returned with a serving cart on which sat a gigantic birthday cake. After dessert, Dominic opened his presents, which included replica gag spectacles to go with the Norman Butterfield action figure on his desk at home, more socks with exploding prints, vibrant sweaters, and two mint-condition autographed copies of his favorite classic novels.

  Aunt Aubrelia, his father’s older sister, had also slipped Dominic a separate envelope with a year-long paid membership to Cupid4You.com dating website. Because his three brothers had amply filled the order for grandchildren (twelve) and delightful daughters-in-law (three), his parents didn’t harass Dominic about his failure to add to their large, tight-knit family. However, Aunt Aubrelia had grown impatient with his bachelor status. She and the rest of his family would’ve loved Kendra. Don’t go there. Do NOT go there.

  Dominic loved all the gifts, but their words of support touched him deeply.

  Adorable five-year-old Sophie, the youngest of Gage’s five children, raced over, ringlets bouncing, and hugged Dominic’s leg. “I love you, Uncle Dung!”

  Dominic chuckled and patted her head, not anticipating the day she actually pronounced his name correctly.

  Soon, they’d gathered around the large flat screen in the family room to watch a this-is-your-life video with many clips of Dominic from infancy to manhood. It ended with a clip of teenage Dominic at a taekwondo sparring competition, executing a combination of moves culminating in a flashy spin-kick to take down his opponent. “Kung Fu Fighting” boomed on the soundtrack so the family came to their feet to dance.

  “I know, I know, wrong martial art, but I couldn’t find a catchy tune for taekwondo,” Isabella said over the music as she boogied over to Dominic.

  “I told Bella to go with ‘Eye of the Tiger,’ ” Reginald added, doing what looked like a cross between the Ickey Shuffle and a seizure.

  “You did great, Mom,” Dominic said with a smile. He would not focus on those missing segments such as a wedding or a firstborn’s birth that had been featured in similar videos she’d made for his brothers’ milestone birthdays. “I loved the video.”

  With everyone now singing and dancing to the professional karaoke setup in the family room, the spotlight was off Dominic so he slipped away for a quiet moment.

  Chapter 36

  Dominic stood in the expansive kitchen at the glass door leading to the canopied deck. The sleet had turned to rain.

  A few minutes later brother Gage entered so quietly Dominic didn’t realize he wasn’t alone until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “You seem down tonight, bro. Feeling your mortality, that ticking clock now that you’ve turned the big 4-0? Believe me, I know that feeling. It crept up on me five years ago.”

  Dominic refused to subject his family and friends to lovelorn whining. “No, everything’s great. It’s been a long day, that’s all. Thank you for the Baldwin book and Salinger collection,” Dominic said, still amazed Gage had been the one who’d remembered Dominic’s admiration for the authors’ work. And what you said out there means a lot.”

  “It wasn’t much.”

  “Oh, but it was for a man of so few words.”

  “I wanted you to know how much I admire you, the path you chose.”

  “I thought you wanted to learn the business and be first in line to take over after Dad retired.”

  “Because it had been drummed into us at such an early age. I didn’t think I had a choice. Same for Manny and Coop. I think they’re comfortable with their decisions, but I had my own dreams at one time. You know how it goes as the eldest son. There was this pressure. It was my duty to do things a certain way. I’ve alw
ays been envious of the way you always went for it. I wished for your sense of fun and freedom. You’re not always obsessing about what other people think. You go after what you want. You live your life.”

  “Envious of me? But you’re the man,” Dominic said. “You’ve always been the man. Even in grade school you had gravitas. And now you’re still the man with it all. A beautiful devoted wife and a houseful of great kids. The business is doing exceptionally well with your leadership, even better than when Dad was running things.”

  “Yes, I have a lot to be grateful for. I’m not complaining about the way things turned out. I just wanted to give you your due for a change. And because it’s your birthday, a very special birthday, I’m going to reveal a deep dark secret. Something I’ve never told a soul, I mean, no one. Not Manny, Coop, or my darling Whitney.”

  “Okay.”

  “You remember how I always razzed you about singing eighties tunes? Well, back in high school, I, um, er, wanted to be a performer, a star.” Gage averted his eyes. “And when no one was around, when I had the house all to myself,” he looked around the kitchen to make sure they were still alone, “I dragged out a coatrack and used it for a mic stand to let her rip before a full-length mirror in the master bathroom. The acoustics were better in there. And though we looked nothing alike, I’m talking night and day, in my mind I was …”

  “Who?”

  Gage leaned in and whispered something.

  “What?”

  More of the unintelligible as Gage’s voice dropped even lower.

  “Man, either you’re going to tell me or you’re not.”

  Gage looked around again and whispered the name of the flamboyant superstar.

  “He’s one of my favorites.” Dominic said, laughing. “No Way!”

  “Way. With the high pompadour, black eyeliner, the flashy, purple outfits, the splits, the platform shoes.”

  That was the last entertainer Dominic expected buttoned-down Gage to reveal in that carefully modulated broadcaster’s voice of his. “So does this mean you’ll join me in a karaoke duet of one of his songs when we go back out there?”

  Long thoughtful pause.

  “Come on, time to work on that sense of freedom and fun.”

  “You’re right and because it’s your birthday, you choose which song.”

  “You’re on!”

  They lifted their hands and shot each other with double “pistols” as the Tobias brothers had often done as boys when in complete agreement.

  “We’d better get back out there,” Gage said. “C’mon.”

  “I’ll join you guys in a minute.” Dominic clapped him on the back.

  When Gage left, Dominic moved back to the door leading to the covered deck and stared out into the wet night. The music segued from an old disco hit to the kids’ karaoke favorite, “What Does the Fox Say?” by Ylvis. The youngest Tobiases and Marins made increasingly inane animal noises as they sang, romped, and stomped to the electronic pop dance beat, shaking the house while the adults laughed.

  Dominic headed back to the family room when the somber instrumental intro for the oft-covered “Love T.K.O.” replaced the up-tempo number. This musical arrangement had background vocals similar to the version recorded by the late R&B star Teddy Pendergrass, Reginald’s favorite.

  Like quicksand, an acute sense of loss slowed Dominic’s stride. He stopped outside the door to the family room.

  In a husky baritone, Reginald crooned the refrain about a man whose spirits and faith in love were down for the count after yet another failed affair. Dominic squeezed his eyes shut and locked his jaw as the despair he’d tried to deny all evening cut through his chest like a scythe. He gave himself over to his own truth in those lyrics and an all-consuming physical ache as the adults in the next room hooted and whistled, urging Reginald on.

  “Oh, yeah!”

  “Well, all right!”

  “Sing it!”

  “‘Love T.K.O!’” they bellowed between choruses as if at an old tent revival.

  When the song ended, Dominic blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, sickened by this pathetic display of weakness, and the way he’d let a maudlin melody bushwhack him. He’d been holding on fairly well since his arrival. Now he wanted nothing more than to tramp outside into the cold, numbing darkness. Escape from all this revelry and party perfection. But he’d isolated himself long enough. The people who loved him most had gathered to celebrate him. Get it together, man.

  Dominic rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck as if preparing to climb back into a ring. Before pushing through the swinging door, he locked a wide smile into place and thunder clapped over his head.

  “The headliner returns!” Dominic boomed to raucous applause and cheers.

  “Woot! Woot! Woot!” The men chanted, pumping their fists.

  Dominic joined in.

  “Where have you been, son?” Reginald asked Dominic. “You missed my performance. I do a damn good Teddy P. if I do say so myself.”

  “Dominic and I are up next!” Gage announced to everyone.

  “What? Gage Tobias? Actually doing karaoke?” Manny asked as several family members murmured in kind. “This I got to see. No, wait, I want in, too!” He leapt from his seat next to his wife.

  Dominic and Gage agreed on a tune.

  “Cue the music,” said Dominic, as his two brothers took the floor before their enthusiastic audience. Gage tossed him a mic.

  Chapter 37

  Arms loaded with gifts to place under the Christmas tree, Kendra stepped inside Aunt Jackie’s home, redolent with the scents of warm gingerbread hot from the oven and fresh Douglas fir tree. In a corner the TV played a recorded episode of her aunt’s favorite daytime talk show.

  Though Kendra greeted her with the expected holiday ebullience, Aunt Jackie noted that something was amiss.

  “So what’s wrong?” Jackie asked without preamble, worriedly searching Kendra’s face.

  “Nothing! It’s freezing out there is all! Brrrrrr!” Kendra placed the presents on the dining room table, removed her gloves, and rubbed her hands together. “What ornaments have you whipped up this year?” Aunt Jackie knitted most of her ornaments. Before Uncle Alex died, each year she’d had a special theme such as knitted miniature booties, sweaters, and snowmen. The last two Christmases Kendra had decorated the tree using old ornaments without her aunt’s input. This year marked a return to tradition.

  “Tah-dah!” Aunt Jackie lifted a large box of the most beautiful knitted snowflakes Kendra had ever seen.

  “Wow!”

  “I started a little late this year, but I’m sure we have enough for the tree.” Aunt Jackie placed the box on a wing chair.

  Kendra removed her coat and hung it in the noticeably uncluttered foyer closet. “What happened to all the coats that were in here?”

  “I’ve started packing up a lot of things. Those coats weren’t keeping anyone warm in that closet. Alex would’ve wanted me to put them to good use by giving them to people who can use them in this cold.”

  “Yes, he would,” Kendra said. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “I’m going to need your help going through his other things.”

  “Of course. Just let me know when.”

  Aunt Jackie scanned Kendra’s dark jeans and matching turtleneck. “You’ve lost some weight, girl.”

  “Just a little, I think. You know I don’t do scales.”

  “You’ve been in such a hurry, either all bundled up in coats or wearing baggy clothes, to scurry through the shop on your way to the office. I haven’t gotten a good look at you in a while. What’s going on?”

  “I’m more fit, that’s all. I’ve been running. A lot of running.” In truth, the only running Kendra had done was to the bathroom after scarfing down a large tin of Christmas cookies and then chasing them with a bad pilsner she’d picked up at a questionable bodega. Death by snickerdoodles and skunky beer. The most pitiful way to go.

  As Kendra flopped on the s
ofa, she watched two of the three co-hosts on the talk show gather at a set kitchen. Their guest was a twenty-something actress, who starred on one of those interchangeable CW channel soaps starring a cast of millennials mail ordered from an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog.

  Everyone with Internet access, WordPress, camera, and a Sephora/Pottery Barn/Nordstrom/Costco credit card was a beauty/decorating/fashion/foodie guru these days. If you had all four you could brand yourself as a type of Martha Stewart for the social media age. This actress, a client of Piper Hodges if Kendra recalled correctly, had a new book, website, and a line of kitchen accessories to pimp. Diversification was a smart move, but Kendra wished the young woman’s publicist had advised her not to fuss with her hair and nose so much while demonstrating how to prepare a “snappy, low-fat” recipe from her book. Blech.

  “You haven’t seemed like yourself,” Aunt Jackie said. “I didn’t want to push at first, but whatever it is obviously hasn’t passed. Is this about Vanessa and her new husband?”

  “Maybe fourth time is the charm.” Kendra removed her boots and wriggled her toes inside toasty socks as she watched one co-host cut peeled sweet potatoes into shoestring strips to help the actress.

  “That’s what she said, ‘fourth time is the charm.’ Ashton seems to care for her deeply. And he’s patient.” Aunt Jackie got up and went into the kitchen.

  Meanwhile, the actress continued squicking Kendra out. The young woman raked her long tresses a few more times and plucked at her nostrils while kneading a pile of ground turkey and shaping it into patties with her bare hands. As the meat sizzled in a large skillet with other ingredients, Aunt Jackie returned with two cups of hot chocolate and a platter of Santa hat macaroons, toffee bars, and gingerbread cookies baked for the carolers expected later. “Now eat!”

  “I can’t.” Kendra winced, clutching her middle as she watched more hair-and-nose flicks on the small screen.

  “C’mon now. Grab a handful. Two handfuls. These are your favorites.” She put the tray on the coffee table and sat next to Kendra.