Dr. Ohhh

by Ana Sparks

  “Wednesday?” Kristin asked.

  I nodded. “I can pick you up at 5.”

  Kristin smiled, and then rose from her chair.

  “What, going so soon?” I asked.

  “I’ve had a rough day,” Kristin said in a quiet voice. A shadow passed over her face, and I saw just how truthful she was being, “I’m going to go home and sleep.”

  I checked my watch. It was only 10:30 pm, but I would be getting her all night in a few days anyway.

  “All right,” I said, “Give me your cell number just in case, though.”

  Kristin nodded and gave me her number. Leaning in, she pressed a light kiss to my cheek, and then strode off. I watched her sparkling form go, enjoying the lingering looks she inspired as she passed the other bar patrons. Yes, in only a few days, I would have that in my bed. And yet, there was something about her, something different and a bit unsettling.

  I took a last swig of my wine, and then stared at the door she had exited from. Yes, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Kristin Blair now, and I didn’t much like it at all.

  Chapter Six

  Kristin

  The next few days were an exercise in hiding and killing time. I used big coats and elaborate wigs to get in and out of my apartment without having to deal with the army of paparazzi that seemed only to grow each day. I messaged my clients to tell them that unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, I wouldn’t be available for work for a short period and hoped that they would understand as I recommended other freelancers. Meanwhile, I developed a policy of answering my phone only when I knew the caller; one which wasn’t even foolproof as it was.

  On Wednesday, just as I was about to get ready for my big date, my sister called.

  “Kristin,” she said in the usual, wait-until-you-hear-my-latest-greatest-life-happening tone. I exhaled, thinking I was off the hook until she said “Mom and Dad are beside themselves with worry.”

  “Oh,” I said, “Why’s that?”

  “Why Kristin, do I really have to say it out loud?” Veronica’s reply came back, sarcastic and harsh.

  “I mean,” she continued, “We all knew you were having… troubles, but we had no idea it was this bad.”

  I said nothing because I wasn’t supposed to.

  “Darling Kristin, if you really needed money you could’ve borrowed from Mom or Dad, or me, or—”

  “I already owe them thousands for school,” I said, even though she knew that already, “And it was all a big mistake; it wasn’t supposed to blow up like it did.”

  There was a silence, and then Veronica clicked her tongue.

  “Whatever, Kristen. Since you clearly can’t take care of yourself, we think you should move home for the time being. Just until this whole crazy thing blows over and you don’t feel like you have to prostitute yourself anymore.”

  I was silent as her words sunk in, with all their humiliating implications: move back home. Me, the 28-year old virgin, moving back home like the loser she was. No thanks.

  “Thank you for your concern, Veronica,” I said, trying to steady my voice, “And you can thank Mom and Dad too, for wanting to look out for me.”

  There was another long silence, then Veronica’s demanding voice: “Well, Kristin, you don’t mean to tell me that you intend to actually go through with this, now do you?”

  I let her listen to my own silence for a moment before I said “That is exactly what I intend to do.” And, just as her politely appalled voice came back, I hung up.

  In shock, I sat down, stared at my phone for a moment, and then turned it off. I looked at my hands: they were still clenched, the veins standing out.

  Had I actually meant what I had said? Was I really going to go through with the whole thing, sleeping with some guy for a wad of cash?

  I walked over to the window, climbed through it, and sat in my usual position, with my legs hanging down, gazing out over the trees. Well, it wasn’t just any guy and it wasn’t just any wad of cash. It was Clark Denton, who was, undeniably, incredibly attractive, even if he was clearly pretty full of himself nowadays. And it was one million dollars. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

  But the longer I sat there in my usual spot, the more I breathed in the fresh outside air, the more I wondered if I would really be able to go through with it at all.

  Chapter Seven

  Clark

  I picked her up at 6. She told me to meet her a block from her building, probably to avoid the press. This time I was on time and she looked even more beautiful than she had the other night. As she swept into my red sports car, her white dress fluttered in the wind a little. In the dying sunlight, I could see her freckles.

  “What is it?” Kristin asked, bashful under my steady gaze.

  “Nothing. You look stunning.”

  She blushed, beaming.

  “Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

  I shrugged, and ran my hand down the front of the 800-dollar suit.

  “It was something I had lying around. Are you ready for tonight?”

  Kristin swallowed, gave me a valiant smile, and then nodded.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Did you decide where you want to go?” I asked and she shook her head.

  “Good,” I said, then pressed my foot on the gas.

  The top was down and the wind was whipping our hair up and around. Kristin said something, but the wind overpowered her words.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Do I get to know where we’re going?” Kristin yelled and I laughed.

  With a tap of one finger on my nose, I shook my head, and then laughed again. Kristin could only maintain her pout for a few seconds before she joined my laughter.

  And it was funny, both of us in the car, the sun setting on the horizon, with a final red orange haze for the sky, the wind ruffling our hair up and out, while the two of us laughed our heads off about nothing. It was better than nice; it was something like forgetting, like riding horseback or the absolute climax of fucking, when the whole world goes blank.

  But then, after a few minutes, the sun set and it was dark, and we were pulling up to the little red-shaded building.

  “Cirino’s,” Kristin said as we stepped out of the car and walked up to the doors, “I’ve heard about this place.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said, holding open the door for her, “So you’ve probably heard that it’s the best restaurant in town.”

  Kristin smiled slightly, nodded.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “That, the…never mind.”

  Kristin frowned as the big hairy maître d’ approached us.

  “Mr. Denton?”

  I nodded and he turned to gesture further into the dining room.

  “Right this way, sir.”

  The place was as nice as I remembered: with a ceiling full of delicate lights, walls bearing expertly rendered scenes of Italy and little miniature streetlights for each table.

  Taking in our surroundings, Kristin turned to me with a smile. “Clark, you were right, this place really is great.”

  I nodded, and then took her hand. “What was it you were saying before?”

  But she only shook her head.

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  Another awkward silence. Our waiter was taking too long to arrive. This was why I always ordered drinks first, or supplied them myself. Hello inebriation, bye-bye awkward silences.

  “Welcome to Cirino’s. My name is Ennio and I will be your waiter,” a man who looked identical to our maître d’ said. “Would you like to hear the specials?”

  “That’s fine,” I told him, “We know what we want.”

  Kristin shot me a questioning look, but I continued, “We would like two Main Street ribeye steaks and a bottle of Chianti please.”

  No sooner had our waiter left then has Kristin turned to me with an incredulous look.

  “I thought this n
ight was for me.”

  “So…?”

  “So, shouldn’t I be allowed to at least choose what I eat and drink?”

  Taking her hand, I gave it a light squeeze.

  “Kristin, trust me. This is going to be delicious. I just want you to have the best evening possible, that’s all.”

  She nodded, but didn’t say anything, her limp hand in mine like a cold dead fish.

  Luckily, our waiter returned quickly with the bottle of wine, which he poured into a glass for each of us. Once he had left again, I raised my glass to Kristin’s for a toast.

  “To tonight.”

  Kristin gave a thin-lipped smile, repeating “To tonight” as our glasses clinked. After we had a glass of wine in us, we had an easier time of it. Kristin told me some more anecdotes about Romeo and Juliet—how, when she had had to take Juliet to the vet one time, Romeo had actually peed on her bed, as well as updates that her parents were retired and well, while her sister Veronica was “the same as ever.”

  “So, still a bitch?” I asked.

  A tense silence, where I was worried I had just ruined the evening. Then, throwing her head back, Kristin laughed.

  Amidst the tastefully quiet music of the restaurant, her laugh—loud and melodious and authentic—was out of place. Maybe that was what made it so attractive. Or maybe it was the way her freckled nose screwed up as her red lips spurted out giggle after giggle, her lithe fingers grasping the white table clothed table for support.

  Finally, she surveyed me with a surprised smile.

  “Clark, how did you…”

  Over the rim of my wine glass, I winked and smirked.

  “Everyone in school thought she was a first-class snob. And then how she turned me away after the prom incident…”

  Kristin’s eyes widened.

  “Wait. What?”

  “When I came to your house and asked to see you and you told Veronica to tell me to go to hell. I figured you were just still mad about missing prom, so I didn’t push it.”

  Kristin scanned my face incredulously.

  “What are you talking about?”

  And suddenly, I understood.

  “Veronica never told you I came by, did she?”

  Kristin shook her head.

  “That…bitch.”

  Catching my eye, we both burst out laughing. As I opened my mouth to say more, however, two plates topped with thick slabs of steak, along with glistening garlic potatoes and asparagus swooped down in front of us.

  “This does look amazing,” Kristin admitted with a gleam in her eye. Taking a bite of the steak, she declared, “Tastes even better than it looks.”

  With that, we dug in. Kristin’s face grew more delighted with every bite she took. For my part, I had forgotten just how delicious the food here was, the wine elevating it even further.

  I finished first, of course; I’ve always been a fast eater. Besides, Kristin was savoring everything, treating each bite as if it were a meal in itself. Her absolute delight was endearing.

  “What are you going to do with the money?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

  Kristin’s face fell, and I immediately saw that mentioning our arrangement had been the wrong thing to do. If only Kristin had understood; I had just wanted to see that smile brighten further, those eyes light up more as she described all the wonderful things she could do with the extra cash. I hadn’t meant to break the mood but enhance it.

  “Sorry, you can go back to eating; you don’t have to answer now, or at all.”

  But the smile was lost and Kristin was shaking her head, saying absently “Other than pay off my debts, I hadn’t thought of it much but…” That smile rose up again. “Maybe I’ll go to Cancun. My friend who went there showed me some pictures and it looked gorgeous; the Mayan ruins, the little lakes—cenotes, I think they’re called—the beaches… I’d get someone to take Romeo and Juliet off my hands, maybe even find that lovesick couple a new home and get a cat who actually gave a damn about me…”

  As if finally remembering that I was there, Kristin’s voice trailed off, shaking her head, her cheeks going red again. She lifted her wine glass to her lips, and then paused.

  “I don’t know, I…I never would have thought my life was going to end up like this.” Her gaze flicked to me.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, and she set down the wine glass.

  “Why, Clark?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why didn’t you come to prom? Why did you stand me up? Why did you embarrass me in front of the entire school?”

  I took a drink of my own wine and ran my finger around the rim. I didn’t want to look at that face as I spoke.

  “It was the meeting for my first app, Reviewly. I was pushing to get it out as soon as possible, my family was having money troubles and I wanted to help. I was sure I was going to make it on time, I almost did. I didn’t stand you up, Kristin, I went to prom.”

  Now, Kristin’s face was curved with anger. Shaking her head furiously, she declared “No you didn’t. I was there, Clark, I was there. I was standing there in the hall when they called out our names and you were nowhere to be seen, all right? And you never came.”

  I nodded, still avoiding her eye. “I know, but it I did come—seconds too late. When I got to the door, the teachers at the door told me that you had just left. I tried calling but you didn’t pick up. I was so furious with myself that I just went home without going inside at all.”

  I chanced a look at Kristin to see that her eyes were full of tears.

  “You did come,” she said softly and, taking her hand, I nodded.

  “But I still failed you that night. And for that, I’m sorry.”

  Kristin sat there in silence. When I opened my mouth to speak, she only shook her head, stood up and disappeared in the direction of the bathroom.

  Several minutes passed. Kristin hadn’t finished her meal, but I didn’t let the waiter take her half-filled plate away. No, I sat there and waited, and wondered when she’d be back. And what I’d do if she never returned.

  Finally, when I was about to get up and go check the bathroom myself, she returned, with strange, distant eyes and a slight smile. When she sat down, I took her hand and she spoke.

  “All this time, I was holding a grudge against you for what happened at prom, for ruining my life. I thought you just couldn’t be bothered to come; I blamed you for everything, the humiliation I endured, the pain I’d experienced since. That night…that was supposed to be the best night of my life and it turned out to be the worst. The night…” She looked up, our eyes meeting. “That was the night I was going to lose my virginity to you.”

  I nodded, looking away once again; unable to bear the suffering I saw there, the suffering I had caused.

  “And all this time,” her soft voice continued, “I’ve blamed you for everything that followed. My grudge held me back in all my relationships afterwards.”

  Her pale trembling hand took mine, but her teary eyes were staring over my shoulder, not at something in the restaurant, but at something else entirely.

  “But now… I don’t know. Maybe it’s the wine or me being silly but I think, Clark, I think all along this grudge, this perceived hang-up was something that resided in me this whole time. I carried this bitterness, this fear within me since that night. Men failed me because I expected them to, boyfriends couldn’t take the responsibility of being my first and let me down time and time again because that was what I expected for them.”

  Our fingers were laced together; I couldn’t tell you what strange feeling my heart had right now.

  “And so, Clark, thank you for tonight, for telling me the truth. For everything.” Her eyes were still full of tears, but now, her lips were smiling.

  “What does this mean?” I asked. “Do you not want to go through with tonight?”

  She squeezed my hand.

  “Only if you want to. As far as I’m concerned, with these past two nights we’ve spent toget
her and the insight you’ve given me, you’ve more than made up for what you did that night.”

  I squeezed her hand.

  “I want to if you do.”

  Smiling slightly again, Kristin took another drink of her wine.

  “How about we see how the night progresses?”

  I nodded and took a drink from my own wine glass, to obscure the smile working its way onto my face. Not long after, the waiter reappeared with the same offer for dessert as before. This time, I gladly accepted.

  “What would we like?” I asked Kristin and, her smile was glowing.

  “Chocolate mousse cake please!”

  It seemed only seconds of our easy, eager conversation and enjoyable wine sips had passed before the man’s chubby fingers were setting on our table a plate with a hulking slice of cake.

  And then we dug in, feeding each other little bites of the decadent dessert. All too fast did we devour the chocolate thing and ask for the bill. After paying, I held out an arm to Kristin, which she accepted, and then we were off. A few feet out the door, I realized just how much wine I had had.

  “Do you mind if we take a taxi or a limo?” I asked Kristin and she shrugged.

  “I’m fine with anything.”

  I paused, peering down the road.

  “What do you say about a walk? We’re only about twenty minutes from my place.”

  Kristin nodded and off we went.

  As we walked, she asked, “Isn’t this towards the woods?”

  With a smirk and another tap on her nose, I nodded.

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter Eight

  Kristin

  As we walked along the tree-lined road, it was funny, everything was fuzzy yet clear. The woods and the evergreen air were clear, but my thoughts, my feelings, Clark’s handsome face, were all fuzzy. Whether this was a good idea, whether I would actually go through with what we had planned, I couldn’t be sure.

  All I knew at that moment, as Clark held my hand and led me to his house, was that I was happy. We didn’t speak, only played with each other’s fingers. We didn’t need to say anything, the forest was saying it all for us with its the quiet calm, broken only by the odd hoot of an owl. No, we didn’t need to say anything because it was all perfect already.