by Megan Keith
There was nobody waiting so I got served straight away. I ordered us both Cokes and while I was waiting for the bartender to pour them I shook my head with the realisation that Joel had purposely put aside a dollar coin in his pocket to pay me back. Which means that it had been playing on his mind since last night. Could this guy be any nicer? I felt giddy with excitement and quickly sculled half my Coke before I went back to our booth.
“Ah, I think they forgot to fill that one,” Joel said as I sat back down.
“I was thirsty,” I shrugged and he graced me with another heart-pounding grin.
“Would you like to try the fish?” he asked, offering me a forkful. I leaned toward it and parted my lips, noting the way Joel’s eyes focused on my mouth as I closed it around the fork. “Good?”
“Mhmm.” I nodded, chewing. I watched as he cut himself a piece and then placed the same fork in his mouth.
“Mmm that is good,” he said around his mouthful. My mother always taught me to never talk with my mouth full, but something about the way that Joel did it just then was almost sensual, and I didn’t actually see inside his mouth, so there was that. Swallowing he added, “Too good to waste. Do you mind?”
“No go ahead.”
Before I’d even finished saying the words he pushed his empty steak plate away and had the fish in front of him. I still had half a schnitzel in front of me and was already getting really full. He offered me another mouthful of fish but I declined, taking a couple more bites of my own dinner before calling it quits. I was stuffed. I sat back with a yawn, sipping the last of my Coke, watching Joel eat. Boy could he eat! Not only had he eaten a whopping steak but he managed to polish of the fish, chips and salad, too.
“What’s for dessert?” he asked, leaning back and rubbing his flat stomach. He sure had an appetite. How did he eat so much and still have a fit figure?
“I couldn’t possibly, I’m so full.”
“Me too, I was only kidding.” He looked at me thoughtfully before a playful smile touched his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want dessert though? Your zit could use a playmate.”
“Har har very funny. You’re one to talk, yours is twice the size of mine!” I laughed and he grinned back at me.
“Is not,” he argued.
I yawned again as I watched Joel finish his Coke just in time for the waitress to reappear at our table.
“The restaurant is closing now, but feel free to go to the bar.” She pointed in the direction of a door marked ‘public bar’. I looked around the room as she collected our dishes and found that Joel and I were the only patrons left. I glanced at my watch, it was just after eleven. I guess that was kind of late to be finishing dinner.
“I think that’s our cue,” Joel said standing.
I grabbed my bag and stood beside him. He placed his hand gently on the small of my back and guided me in the direction of the exit instead of the bar. I paused and shot him a questioning look.
“You’re dead on your feet,” he explained.
“Gee thanks,” I said, nudging him with my elbow, and thoroughly enjoying the small amount of contact too, before walking out the door.
“I’m working tomorrow and you’re obviously tired so…” My yawn right then proved his point.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said with a shrug. We walked side by side in silence to my car. “I had a good time tonight.”
“Me too.” Joel smiled at me timidly. “And we didn’t even need our getaway cars.”
We both laughed. When our laughter fizzled out, I took my keys out of my handbag. Joel and I looked at each other in an awkward moment of silence.
“I’m sorry our date was so short. I feel like we didn’t even get a chance to get to know one another,” I said in a moment of honesty, surprising myself that I had the confidence to say such a thing.
“Next time?”
“I’d like that,” I replied, unable to hide my smile.
“I’ll give you a call,” he said, leaning towards me and giving me a sweet peck on the cheek.
The soft warmth of his lips combined with his intoxicating cologne had me catching my breath. He moved back to allow me to unlock the door and get in my car. I started it before shutting the door and pressing the down button for the electric window. Joel stood by, watching me, with his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Bye, Joel.”
“Good night, Olivia.”
On the drive back home my night kept replaying over and over. That was probably the quickest date in history! We didn’t even really get to talk that much. I didn’t learn anything about the guy. He’d not told me what he did for a living, only that he was working tomorrow. But then, I hadn’t told him where I worked either. I didn’t even know how old he was. I guess early to mid-thirties, but I suppose age was irrelevant, just a number. I didn’t know if he had any hobbies, what his taste in music was like… I knew nothing about him. And yet I felt so comfortable with him, kind of like I knew him already… that doesn’t make any sense.
He didn’t call. He’d said that he would, but I didn’t hear from him all weekend and by Tuesday I was convinced that I would never hear from him again. Why the hell did he say he would call if he had no intention of doing so? It was the age old question, I guess. It’s not like I was the only girl that had expected a guy to call and been disappointed when he didn’t. In fact, it had happened to me before, more than once. But this was Joel. I barely knew the guy but I felt a strong connection to him. Our, too short, first date had been unlike any I had been on before. I thought we’d clicked. I thought it went well. Unfortunately though, it seemed our first date may have also been our last.
My week continued like any other. Marg was still on holidays. Jess had made it back into work on Monday, but Karen sent her home again by mid-morning. She was still fighting a terrible cold and shouldn’t have bothered coming in to spread her germs. So it was just little ole me. Again. I’d finally finished peeling off all 15,000 labels as well as relabelling the bottles through the machine. They had been despatched and I was finally allowed to move onto other jobs in the queue.
Thursday was my birthday, the big 3-0. By the time it had rolled around, I had resigned myself to a life of lonely misery and was considering getting a cat. Earlier in the week, I’d made a spur of the moment decision and called the hairdressers, booking myself in for an appointment. My long blonde locks were on their way out. I wore it up most of the time anyway so it seemed practical and I was in need of a change.
So I was sitting in the hairdressers, after leaving work early, on my birthday, instructing them to chop it all off, when I suddenly lost my bravado. The hairdresser sensed my change in mood immediately and putting her hand on my shoulder reassuringly, she said with a squeeze that I could trust her. She said she would make me look young and sexy. The look in her eyes as she faced my reflection, and the tone in her voice, reassured me enough to trust her judgment.
I was so glad that I did. My new style was sexy and chic and definitely made me feel younger than I had when I had entered the salon. I’d walked in with dull, straight hair, tied high on my head in a ponytail that swung as I walked. I left with golden highlights and a fringe that I hadn’t had in years. The hairdresser had cut my hair just above my shoulders, parted it on my left and cut it on an angle across the front. I looked younger and I felt incredible, the smile on my face unable to be wiped off.
I went straight from the hairdressers to my parents’ place for a birthday dinner. Mum practically screamed when she greeted me at the door, she was so shocked to see my new hairstyle.
“What have you done?” she asked, spinning me around to look at the back.
“Do you like it?” I was suddenly worried that it wasn’t as good as I thought. She spun me back to face her.
“It looks fantastic Libby!” She beamed.
“I’ve come straight from the hairdressers, it was a birthday present for myself.”
“I love it! Happy birthday darling.” She gave me
a warm birthday hug before letting me inside.
“Well who do we have here?” Dad greeted me with his trademark smile and hard-almost-to-the-point-of-pain hug. “You look beautiful sweetheart. Happy Birthday!”
“Thanks Dad!”
“AHHH! Ermahgerd Libby!” My overly excited sister greeted me seconds later. Ermahgerd was Ally’s new favourite word, always spoken in this weird hard to place accent. She stepped a little closer and ran her fingers through my hair. “Wow, wow, wow! It looks so different.”
I stood in the centre of Mum and Dad’s lounge room while both Ally and my mum played with my hair.
“I really do love it Lib,” Mum gushed.
I was kicking myself, why hadn’t I done this sooner? I was loving their reactions and it was a dramatic change that I really needed. It’s amazing what a trip to the hairdressers could do. I had no idea.
“It looks fantastic! You don’t look a day over thirty!” Ally said and I smacked her on the arm for that, hard.
“Thanks a lot Ally!”
“Ow,” she said rubbing her arm, “I was only kidding! Honestly, I think you look younger than me now. Maybe I should cut my hair short, too.”
“Don’t you dare!” I snapped and then relaxed when a smile appeared on her face, letting me know she was kidding. Ally was fully aware of my insecurities, she didn’t agree with them, but we were close enough that she knew this was something I needed for myself. We already looked enough alike and this was a change that would set us apart.
From now on there would be a vast difference between my sister and I. Now I felt almost as pretty as she was. The funny thing about it is, even though I was jealous of my sister I was also partially to blame for my appearance. I knew that. She took the time to look after herself whereas I didn’t. I had just spent two hours at the hairdressers, something that I never ever did, but my sister did on a regular basis. I’d always just looked how I looked, I didn’t bother with make-up very often, I ate what I wanted, regardless of its nutritional value, and I rarely did any exercise. In fact, I rarely left the house for that matter. I had no life and, other than a strong work ethic, I had very little going for me.
Joel may be out of the picture but my new haircut, I’d decided, was going to give me the confidence I needed to get out there. I was going to make more of an effort with my appearance. I was going to start to look after myself better, do things for me. Maybe I could even ask the next guy I met out on a date. I was thirty years old now, that biological clock was ticking and my life wasn’t going to create itself.
As I sat down to dinner with my family I was truly empowered… until it started to wear off. My hair was no longer the centre of attention and it made me realise something… it was just a haircut. It wasn’t going to alter my life. I wasn’t going to change overnight and become someone I wasn’t. I wasn’t going to become confident and social and exciting. I was still plain old Libby Moore. Had been for thirty years. Who was I kidding?
For my birthday, my parents had given me vouchers to be used in any store at the local shopping centre and my sister had given me a gift card for a clothing store. At the time I’d started imagining a whole new wardrobe, for the whole new me. By the time I got home, however, reality had set in. I’d probably just buy something practical and boring, not life altering at all.
I weakened yet again, fourth time this week, and had a cigarette in the driveway before entering my house. Then I had a shower, careful not to get my new hair wet so that the style would remain for at least another day. I brushed my hair quicker than I had ever had the pleasure of doing and again thought ‘why hadn’t I done this sooner?’ Then I plopped down on the couch in front of the TV.
Ally had gone to her friend Rachel’s house after I’d insisted that I just wanted to go home to veg and I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday anymore. I hid my feelings well and she had left our parents’ house thinking I was just tired, and not depressed in the slightest.
I was just dozing off on the couch when my mobile rang. I looked at the screen that said nine-thirty and realised that, yep, my life wasn’t going to change any time soon, falling asleep on the couch was my usual routine. I looked at the name on the screen and jolted awake. Joel? I stared at it, bleary-eyed, wondering if I was seeing things, but no, it definitely said Joel. And it was still ringing. I cleared my throat before answering.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Olivia, it’s Joel.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Wow, is he nervous? He’d said that already.
“How are you?” I asked cautiously.
“I’m good. How are you?” he responded.
“Really well,” I exaggerated.
“Good. What have you been up to?”
“Not much.” I turned thirty. It’s my birthday today. I cut off all my hair. I may be having a mid-life crisis of some sort.
“Busy at work?”
“Yeah, pretty busy.” Crazy busy. So glad there is only one day left to the week.
“Yeah, me too,” he said after a moment.
Well this conversation is going nowhere. Think of something. Speak.
“Oh? What is it that you do?” Yes! Finally - I can talk!
“I’m an apprentice tiler.”
“Apprentice?” That shocked me. Isn’t he a little bit old to be an apprentice?
“Yeah, I kinda got a late start in life. Change of career.”
“Right. What did you do before that?”
“This and that… went from one job to another, you know how it is.”
“No I don’t. I’ve been working at the same company since I was seventeen.” I was embarrassed by that, though I’m not sure why.
“Really? Wow. What do you do?”
“Wait for it, it’s very exciting… I work in a factory!” I said with fake enthusiasm.
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“I know. It’s a job. It pays the mortgage,” I said flopping against the back of the couch with a sigh.
“So you own your own place then?”
“Half of it, still trying to get that other half from the bank, you know how it is.” We both chuckled.
“Good for you. I’m still renting a shit-box, but I’m saving the deposit to buy.”
“That’s the hardest part.”
“I’ll get there.” Another lull in the conversation.
“Oh, by the way, you were right about that pasta sauce,” I said, remembering the delicious dinner I had cooked for Ally and me the previous night.
“Oh yeah?”
“I had it last night. You’ve converted me.”
“Glad to be of assistance,” he said with an obvious smile in his voice.
While I was thinking of something else to say I heard some sort of heavy breathing down the phone and a funny sighing sound.
“What was that?” I asked.
“That would be Ruby.” He sighed.
“Ruby?”
“She’s my dog.”
“Oh, for a second there I thought you were going to say wife or significant other or something.” Yeah, I gave myself a face-palm for that comment, too.
“Nope. I’m not hiding a significant anything, I can assure you.” Joel chuckled. “No kids either.”
“Good to know.”
“Although, I’m sure Ruby thinks she’s my baby. She’s under the impression that she’s human. She’s trying to get on the phone right now… I think she wants to talk.” I heard a sniffing sound then, sure enough she wanted to talk alright. “Go on… get down Ruby… no… hang on a sec Liv.”
Liv? Why did him calling me that give me such a thrill? At that moment it struck me that I didn’t think I would even hear from this guy again and now… now he’s shortening my name like we’re old friends? My heart picked up momentum as that last word echoed in my mind. I heard some rustling sounds coming from Joel’s end of the line and what sounded like a door closing.
“Sorry about that. Ruby’s outside. Now she can annoy the
neighbours.” She barked loudly then.
“I don’t think she’s very happy about that!” I laughed.
“Apparently not!” He laughed back. “So what were you doing when I called?”
“Actually, I was just dozing on the couch.”
“Oh shit. Did I wake you? You should have said something-”
“No, no, it’s fine.” More than fine. I’m so glad you called.
“Are you sure? I can call back another time.”
“I’m sure. I wasn’t quite asleep, there just wasn’t much worth watching on TV.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve been watching DVDs all week.”
“Anything good?”
“Um…” he stalled, “I think so… but you may not agree.”
“Oh now I’m intrigued. Spill.” I giggled.
“I’m not sure I want to now.” He laughed.
“Well now I’m really intrigued… Oh. Wait. Is it porn?”
“Ha ha ha! No!” I waited while he continued to laugh. God he had a great, deep-sounding, sexy laugh. “I’ve been watching episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” he said that last bit so softly I wasn’t quite sure if I’d heard him correctly.
“Buffy?”
“Hey it’s a good show. Don’t pick on me!” I could tell he was smiling. “Everyone picks on me about it. I’ve got the boxed set.”
“Me too.”
“Really? You’re a fan?” I could hear the surprise in his voice.
“Absolutely. From day one. I’ve recently been re-watching the whole series from the first episode. Currently up to series four,” I stated proudly as I yawned in his ear. “Sorry.”
“I’ve been doing the same, but you’re ahead of me. Hey, you could tell me the name of the episode you’re up to so when I catch up to it we can watch some together.”
“Really?” I asked sceptically. Was he for real?
“Well… I mean, if you want.” I could tell his confidence was wavering.
“Sure.” Hell yes!