by Gabi Moore
“Serial killer? Now just wait a second. Didn’t you say he has a kid, too?”
“Yup, he’s a widower. I think his little girl is four or five.”
“And didn’t you say he was well off?”
“Yeah. A hotel owner or something.”
“And he wants to build a stable family life with you?”
“Yeah.”
Kara whistled low under her breath and took a sip of her own wine.
“Sounds like you won the jackpot to me.”
I sighed. She had a point. At this stage of my life, an employed, stable adult type who knew what he wanted and had the maturity to ask for it seemed like …a miracle. A suspicious miracle.
“I guess it’s just kind of depressing. There’s no romance in it, you know? He seems good on paper, it’s just that…”
“What?”
“I don’t know. He’s a bit older than me, too. Early forties? Maybe forty-two? I’m not saying he’s unattractive or anything but…”
“But what?” Annie insisted. “God, I say just go for it. Honestly. Dating is overrated anyway.”
I leaned back in my chair.
Dating wasn’t overrated. It was downright terrifying. I didn’t consider myself old, not by a long shot, and I wasn’t that out of the loop, but already just a casual dabble in the world of online dating had left a nasty taste in my mouth and I was already feeling like I’d scream at the next man who told me he ‘wasn’t looking for a relationship right now’.
My ex, Jeff, had been everything to me. I had been one of those smug marrieds. I had cheerfully ticked off ‘pair bonding’ from life’s great to do list and assumed that I would never again have to brave the indignity of going out into the dating market.
And now I had no idea what I was doing.
Men seemed so different from when I was single in my early twenties. Or maybe it was me who was different. At any rate, the idea of having something fall in my lap and being spared the rigors of dating did have a certain appeal.
“My therapist says that often women run away from precisely the men that would treat them the best,” Kara said. “You know, we’re all attracted to the assholes, the cheaters. And then when a guy who actually wants to have a relationship, who actually wants to build a life comes along, you don’t even know what to do with him.”
“Well, she’s right about the being attracted to assholes part,” I said, a little too bitterly.
“I don’t know, I think it’s refreshing that he’s so upfront about his intentions. It’s honest.”
The word ‘honest’ stung me. The wound my ex had left was still fresh. I had had it all. The prettiest picture perfect life you could imagine. And there was a tiny thread in it, and like an idiot I had pulled on that thread, and the whole thing had come undone. Just tugging on one of his lies unraveled all the others, one after the other, until I was sure even I would be unpicked at the seams.
One morning I woke up, Kat Lilith, a successful woman with a coveted job, a beautiful four-year-old and a devoted husband of more than a decade. And the next morning, I woke feeling like a punchline. Like the cheesiest, most predictable soap opera.
“Well,” I said, “he did say I could have some time to think it all through.”
“How kind of him” Lily scoffed, and I laughed.
“I know, I know, it’s crazy. Speed dating. Speed marrying…”
“So, what are you going to tell him?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Come on,” Lily said, “what do you really think? Just answer now, from the heart. Just be honest.”
I winced.
That word again. Honest? I didn’t know anymore what it meant to be honest.
He wanted a wife; I wanted a man who wouldn’t lie to me anymore. He had a child, I had a child, and we both had bills. He had laid it all out for me over that overcooked steak dinner while the couple behind us tried to get their kids to stop fighting. He had said it’s the smart choice. He had said we share values, we’re both principled, and a partnership between us would be of mutual benefit. He admired my work, and he needed the companionship.
Sure, he had said nothing about my eyes or how they took his breath away. This wasn’t about sex. About love. But it was practical. It made sense.
Wasn’t that the honest truth anyway? I was 35 years old, I had responsibilities, a daughter to think of and a mortgage to pay. I had already had my whirlwind romance and it had ended badly. What I wanted now was something I could rely on. Did it really matter that he smelled vaguely of something burnt or that it bugged me how slightly crooked his teeth were?
“I don’t know what my heart says,” I said, “but my head says it’s a pretty logical next step. He’s a nice guy.”
That part wasn’t lying either. He was nice. He had worn a fancy shirt and didn’t swear. He had paid for my meal and held the door for me. But still…
“He says he’ll give me a month to mull it over” I said finally. This made Lily laugh cynically. I shot her a dry look.
“Anyway, I intend to give his proposal all the consideration it deserves. There’s nothing wrong with just considering it, right?”
“Exactly. Don’t listen to her, she’s just jealous” said Kara and squeezed my arm.
I stroked my fingers up and down the wine glass stem again, gathering cold drops on my fingertips.
“I’m seeing him on Thursday again. We’re going to play mini golf.”
“Mini golf?” said Lily, the naughty smile still on her lips.
“Well what do you expect? It’s a school night. Why go to a noisy bar or whatever? I’m not a kid. I never do that kind of thing anyway,” I said, feeling a little defensive.
Lily shrugged.
“Fine,” she said, “I just don’t understand what the rush is though.”
To be ‘honest’, I didn’t understand either. But it was the smart thing to do. And that’s what life is about. Making smart decisions. Cheap infatuation is just for kids anyway – what I needed now was something serious. My work was doing better than ever. Nicky needed a father figure in her life and I needed to move on from the burning wreckage that I used to call my marriage.
I downed my glass and let the clear, light bubbles send a little flurry of dizziness through me.
My four-year-old Nicky could play at being a fairy princess –I on the other hand was far too old and too tired to wait for a prince charming anymore. Prince gainfully employed and emotionally stable would suit me just fine.
Chapter 3 - Kat
On the morning, he cancelled the mini-golf and suggested a quick work lunch date instead.
The only other people at the restaurant were small groups of businessmen. I took a seat, checked my watch and pretended to be interested in the menu.
Jeff and I never used to go out anywhere. We’d do a little dance every year my birthday rolled around: he’d say, “this year I’m taking you to a fancy restaurant!” Then when the day rolled around he’d claim to be too tired, but he’d make a big deal out of cooking for me at home instead. But then he’d mess that up, too, and invite me into the kitchen to ‘help’ him. Then something would grab his attention, he’d run off to check his phone or whatever, and soon enough I’d be serving him, on the couch, just like every other night. But then he’d say, “don’t worry, I’ll do the dishes, promise!”
Every year.
Every damn year.
I tried to unknot my eyebrows. That was the past. This was now. And possibly, this man, this cool and calm Anthony Burgess, would be a sweet, sweet balm to smooth over all of that.
If he was going to be so straightforward and practical about the possibility of a relationship, well, why couldn’t I do the same? Maybe I too should be upfront about all my dealbreakers. For instance, I wasn’t going to nag anyone to clean up after themselves, I wasn’t going to spell out all the reasons why we needed to communicate with one another …and I wasn’t going to settle for oral sex less than once a week, from now
until forever. I mean, a girl could ask.
I snapped the menu closed. Just as I was starting to wonder whether I should worry, he appeared at the entrance, in beige chinos and a golf shirt, looking a little flustered.
“Kat! My apologies, I’m late. I’ve had a hellish morning …a supplier of mine has really dropped the ball on a delivery that was due earlier today and …oh, I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about all the gory details,” he said quickly, took my hand in his, kissed it, then placed it back in my lap before sitting down at his side of the table.
Without making eye contact, he picked up the menu, flipped through it, tossed it back down on the table and then had the waiter at his side in a heartbeat.
We ordered some coffee.
When I noticed him briefly check his watch, my eyebrows crinkled up again. I had purposefully shifted three of my own appointments this morning to make way for this ‘date’.
We chatted briefly about this and that, almost leaping over conversation topics like they were obstacles on a showjumping arena.
While my lips easily slipped over words about Nicky or the weather or how hellish the office was this time of year, there was a secret, more interesting conversation going on inside my head.
I looked at the muscles and tendons in his neck and tried to imagine him naked. I tried to decide whether I found his little tics and gestures cute or distracting. I noticed the lines on his hands. The modest cotton of his shirt.
“Well, let’s get straight to it,” he said, and for the first time raised his pale blue eyes to mine.
I was taken aback.
It’s not that I found him attractive exactly …but something about the raw frankness he had in his expression caught me completely off-guard. I tore my gaze from his and laughed, distracting myself with the corner of the napkin.
“Straight to it, huh? I guess this is the third date…” I said teasingly, and looked at him again.
But his eyes were stony. The smile fell from my face.
“I’d prefer we didn’t delve into anything vulgar,” he said sharply.
Vulgar?
I felt a little flash of embarrassment.
“Besides, you’re too refined for that kind of thing, Kat. That’s what I appreciate in you. But I understand, you’re nervous. You’re deflecting. It’s a lot that I’ve thrown at you.”
My head spun. Was this guy for real?
“Well, yes, I am nervous, actually. I’m just trying to keep things light…” I said. “It’s not every day that I get proposed to by an almost stranger, right?” I said playfully. But this, too, fell flat. He seemed absorbed by the patterns on the tablecloth.
“Look, Kat, I won’t pretend that it’s not nerve-wracking for me to have been so open with you, so honest…” he said and looked pleadingly at me “…but it’s taken me a long time to realize what I actually want out of life, what’s important to me. It might seem impulsive to you, but please understand that I don’t take any of this lightly, I know what I want, and I know it when I see it. I don’t want to waste either of our time. It’s from respect that I’m forthcoming. Do you understand?”
“Sure,” I said absentmindedly.
I wasn’t even married to the guy yet and I already felt chained to him. But he had a point. How much time had I wasted in life? How many wasted years with Jeff could have been avoided if both of us had just been, well …honest?
“And I …oh gosh, I’ve made this awkward again haven’t I?” he said and all at once, like he’d suddenly just understood a hilarious joke, he burst into a warm smile.
I laughed as well.
“Awkward? Oh, you’re awkward as hell…” I said, and soon we were both smiling and all at once, without me knowing how, his hand was on mine. I looked at it resting there, on the starched white tablecloth, then to him, then back at our hands.
“Kat, I’m a giant doofus when it comes to this dating stuff, I’ve been out of the game for so long that I--”
“Please, you don’t have to apologize.”
“Let me finish. I just …I have trouble opening up to others. But there’s something special about you, something…” and here, he stopped short, as though something had choked him off mid-sentence. Then I understood. The guy was petrified. He wasn’t strange or pushy or standoffish. He was just scared.
I squeezed his hand and smiled at him, feeling a little bubble of regret at having told Lily in detail earlier that morning that I think I maybe hated his chinos.
Maybe she was right. Maybe women are complete idiots and I actually had Mr. Jackpot sitting right in front of me right now, getting choked up telling me how special I was. I noticed how easy it was to feel flattered.
“It’s not that I’m not interested, Anthony. Like I’ve said already, it’s just that …it’s so fast. We don’t really know each other. I need time.”
“Of course. Time. I understand that. Of course.”
Suddenly he was cool and calm again, and we weren’t smiling anymore.
“I suppose when Jackie died it was so suddenly, and I got such a strong sense of …well, you never really know how much time you have left, you know? We take it for granted. I took her for granted. So, these days if something feels right, I go with it. Life’s too short.”
I wondered if I was just imagining a faint crackle at the end of his voice as he finished his sentence. It was the most impassioned I had seen him. What if he wasn’t some stodgy middle aged guy with no personality? What if he was actually incredibly deep and romantic? Who knows, maybe this is what a wild fling looks like in your mid-thirties.
I sighed loudly.
“I get that. I really do. But I guess you could say my ex made me feel the opposite… that something feeling right sometimes just isn’t good enough, you know?”
Just when I was sincerely beginning to wish we’d switch to a less serious topic, his phone rung loudly and interrupted me. He looked massively apologetic and held up a cautious hand to me as he answered, frowning into the phone and exchanging some curt words with the person on the other end. He hung up and smiled warmly at me again.
“Remember I mentioned about my supplier? The one that left me hanging this morning and made me late?”
“I remember.”
“Well, he’s suddenly crawled out of the woodwork, as it were, and now he’s at the showroom wondering why nobody’s there to take delivery.”
“Oh no …do you have to go?” I said. Surprising myself, I realized that I actually didn’t want him to. It had taken us almost 30 minutes but I felt like he was just starting to warm up, like there was something definitely interesting just a little way off on the horizon, if we just sat a bit longer and exchanged near glances and nervous looks.
“I’m afraid so. I’m sorry, I really wanted to spend more time with you this afternoon. Unless…”
“Unless?”
“Well, my showroom is just down the road from your office, you’re in that business park on Montgomery, right?”
“Yeah, same place as the Canadian embassy.”
“I know it. How about you come with me, I can show you around, we can chat on the drive there? Then I’ll drop you off afterwards?”
“I’d love to,” I said quickly. “I’d better, just in case you bump into some cute girl on the way there and try to marry her instead!”
He smiled warmly and I realized that yes, plain as day, I was blushing like a schoolgirl. I didn’t know when my life had turned into a quaint Victorian romance novel but the sun was shining so warmly and he was smiling so sweetly at me it didn’t much seem to matter.
We settled the bill and walked out to his car.
It felt a little strange, getting inside. It was spotless, but I could spy the pink ear of a stuffed bunny rabbit behind his seat. I buckled up and took the opportunity to ogle him a little more as we pulled out and he merged with the traffic.
Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad way of doing things. Start off every relationship with the big question,
right out of the gate. And perhaps I could get used to this guy, his quiet manners, gently ironed shirts and secret emotions that flittered under the surface like little fish.
We drove in comfortable silence.
The phone rang again.
“Mark, I’m on my way now, just sit tight, OK? Five minutes.” His milky blue eyes scanned the road calmly as he listened, then hung up.
“The nerve of the man. Makes me wait and now wants me to come running after him.”
“Story of my life,” I said.
“It’s so inconsiderate. Seriously, is it really so difficult to manage your time? I honestly don’t know how some people stay in business.”
“Tell me about it.”
“The guy does brilliant work, I can’t fault him that. He’s been making furniture for our resorts for more than five years. But the man has zero work ethic.”
We were approaching the office again. I glanced over at him.
“Anthony, can I ask you a personal question?” I blurted.
Without skipping a beat he replied, “you can always ask me whatever you like, no matter what.”
“Well …do you actually find me attractive? This is not just, you know, this isn’t just an arrangement for you? Are you--”
To my amazement the car almost instantly came skidding to a halt on the side of the road. He turned off the ignition and looked me square in the eye.
“Oh god, is that what you think? That I’m just looking for some …arrangement?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled loudly, looking out at the traffic whizzing past the now stationary car.
“Well, yeah, kind of. It’s just that--”
“Kat, I’m enormously attracted to you. You’re a beautiful woman. Anyone can see that. I’m an idiot. You …you do know you’re more than that to me, right?”
My hand was in his again, and my heart was in my throat. I swallowed and tried to avoid eye contact, feeling the blush coming on again. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how I felt about all this. But I think I liked it.
I looked out over the road and saw a faint wobbling shimmer moving just above the surface of the tarmac. Why not marry him? I didn’t believe in a god, not anymore, but if there was one out there, well, he could send me a sign. He could let me know if I should let this serious, blue-eyed stranger into my life or not.