by Melinda Metz
To her shock, tears started running down her cheeks. She used the heels of her hands to brush them away, then looked over at Ann. “I’m done, I guess.” The class burst into applause.
“Excellent,” Ann said. “You really put yourself there, and you let what happened happen. You surprised yourself, didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t expecting to start crying,” Jamie admitted.
“That’s part of acting. Letting the feelings come up. Okay, next?”
Jamie hurried back to her seat. Clifton gave her a thumbs-up, and Jamie managed to nod back. Putting herself there, as Ann called it, had been easy. Getting herself back from there wasn’t as easy. All that emotion was still roiling around inside her. “Um, I . . . I’ll be back.” She got up, stumbled down the row to the aisle, and hurried out.
She leaned back against the wall of the theater and sucked in a couple long breaths. Even though she’d only done one acting exercise, she was already almost positive the class wasn’t for her. She liked her feelings squashed down, until she released them in an appropriate place, like in a dark theater while watching a sad movie that was nothing like her life, or while drinking wine in the bathtub. She decided to head home. She’d e-mail the teacher later.
About half an hour later, she was heading up her walkway, looking forward to some cat-cuddling time. Mac didn’t always want to be cuddled, but he seemed to know when she really needed to hug him and would deign to allow it.
She was just sliding her key into the lock when someone called her name. She looked over and saw Helen glaring at her from the sidewalk. “You let Marie fix you up!”
“Not on purpose,” Jamie protested. “She asked me over for dinner. She didn’t tell me she’d invited anyone else.”
“Well, now I get a turn,” Helen said.
“No. Really, Helen. No,” Jamie said as firmly as she could. “I would have told Marie no if she’d asked me. Actually, I did tell her no. You heard me. I told both of you no at the same time.”
Marie came out on her porch. “Scott told me he texted you and you didn’t answer,” she accused.
Yeah, well, he’s a pervert, Jamie thought, but didn’t say. “I didn’t want to hurt his feelings,” she lied. “I’m bad at telling someone I’m not interested. I figured not answering would give him the signal without me actually saying it.” That and blocking his number, she silently added.
“What possible reason can you have for not wanting to at least speak to him again?” Marie demanded.
“Marie, I told you I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone right now,” Jamie said, struggling to keep her voice calm.
“You have to give my godson a chance or it’s not fair,” Helen said, walking across the lawn toward Jamie.
“Helen, if she didn’t like Scott, she definitely won’t like your godson,” Marie said. “I know. I’ve met them both.” She pointed her finger at Jamie. “You have to get over yourself. You think there’s any one person who’s exactly what you’re looking for? There isn’t.”
It was like she hadn’t heard anything Jamie said. “Good to know. I guess that’s my problem. You heard her, Helen. I’m too picky. It’s pointless to set me up with your godson. I’ll see you both later.” She whirled back to the door, unlocked it as fast as she could, and ducked inside.
Before she could close the door, she heard Helen say, “I think my godson is exactly what she’s looking for. She just doesn’t know it, because she hasn’t met him yet.”
“Yet!” Jamie cried after she slammed the door. “She said ‘yet’! I’m doomed, Mac. Doomed.”
Mac trotted over, and Jamie scooped him up. He butted her chin with his head and began to purr. “You’re the only guy I need, MacGyver.”
But even so, three nights later there she was, walking into Sorella, a little Italian restaurant a few blocks from her house, looking around for a guy who matched the picture of Helen’s godson that Helen had told Jamie to keep. Helen just refused to stop insisting that it wasn’t fair that Marie had gotten a turn matching Jamie up with someone and Helen hadn’t, and Jamie had caved. After tonight, Marie and Helen would be even, and Jamie would be free to go on with her life.
Jamie saw two men sitting at tables by themselves. One dark-haired and athletic looking; one blond with what she always thought of as aristocratic features, aquiline nose, thin lips. The blond was Helen’s godson. The other guy looked more approachable. For starters, he wasn’t studying the menu as if he had to take an exam the next day, and he’d smiled when he’d seen her, a good smile that made the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes crinkle.
Wait. She knew him! Not knew him, knew him. But she’d talked to him that day she’d been trying to pick out a leash for Mac at the pet store. She had the crazy desire to walk over and sit at his table. He’d seemed nice that day, funny. But Scott, Marie’s pick, had seemed nice and funny, too, and look how he’d turned out.
The hostess approached, and Jamie told her she was with the guy at the table in the back. Helen’s godson didn’t look up from the menu even when she was standing a foot away. “Charles?”
Finally, he raised his head, but didn’t say anything. “Hi, I’m Jamie. You’re Helen’s godson, right?”
“Yes. Hi,” he said.
Very welcoming, Jamie thought. But maybe Helen’s godson hadn’t wanted to be fixed up, either. She could totally see Helen hounding him until he’d agreed to have dinner with Jamie. Or maybe he was just on the shy side.
Jamie sat down. “Helen told me you’re a teacher. I used to teach, too.” She was sure Helen had already passed that along to him, but it was a reasonable conversation starter.
“But now you’re taking a year off to find yourself.” He didn’t put actual air quotes around the words “find yourself,” but he might as well have, and he made the phrase sound faintly ridiculous.
“Yep. I was feeling burned out by teaching, and I got the chance to spend a year out here,” Jamie answered. “I’m planning to look for a job, but right now, I’m trying out some new things. I actually took a surfing lesson the other day.”
“Most of us don’t have that luxury,” Charles commented. He sounded kind of bitter about it.
“True, completely true. I know how lucky I am,” Jamie answered. “My mom left me a little inheritance, and that’s what’s given me the chance.”
“Well, you know what teachers’ salaries are,” Charles said. “Since you’re a lady of leisure”—another phrase that felt like it could have had air quotes. He made this one sound contemptible—“I thought tonight could be your treat.”
“Um, sure. Of course.” Jamie hadn’t been able to come up with anything else to say, or at least nothing she’d want repeated back to Helen.
A young waitress in a peasant blouse and flouncy skirt came over. “What can I get you to drink?”
Before Jamie could answer, Charles jumped in. “I’ll have the white truffle and prime strip steak appetizer, and I think a bottle of the Vega Sicilia Unico.”
He hadn’t bothered to ask if there was an appetizer she’d wanted to share, and Jamie was pretty sure he’d ordered wine that was way out of her price range. Classy. Jamie’s eyes drifted over to the man from the pet store. His date had just arrived, and he’d stood to greet her, saying something Jamie imagined was about how nice the woman looked.
“And what would you like to drink?” the waitress asked. “I love those earrings, by the way.” Jamie smiled. The waitress was being friendlier—and more complimentary—than her date.
“Thanks, I—”
“I think I’ll also have the bruschetta,” Charles interrupted.
* * *
“You two decided?” the waitress asked.
David and Annabelle looked at each other and laughed. “We still haven’t decided,” Annabelle admitted.
“Possibly because we still haven’t looked at the menu,” David added. “Sorry.”
“Not a problem. I’ll check back in a few,” the waitress told them, th
en left.
David couldn’t believe how easily the conversation had been flowing. They’d been keeping it light, going from movies, to running, to graphic novels. She was a fan of Sakai, and she admitted it was partly just because she loved how rabbit ears made such a perfect samurai top knot.
“Just one more thing before we look at the menu,” Annabelle said. “Even you have to admit that Finder isn’t something you can read every day. Me, I can’t handle endnotes on a Monday.”
“Okay, good point. There are some days when all I want is my Calvin and Hobbes,” David answered.
“The cartoon equivalent of comfort food,” Annabelle agreed, and they smiled at each other. “Now, menu, or we’ll get kicked out.”
They decided to split an appetizer, because they both loved grilled mussels. When it arrived, Annabelle took out a small vial. “I’m just going to put MirMin on some. Is that okay?” She raised her dark eyebrows. David liked the way they peaked. They made her look a little devilish, in a good way.
He’d noticed her eyebrows. He was admiring her eyebrows. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at a woman so closely.
“Sure,” David answered. “What’s MirMin?”
“You haven’t heard of it? It’s awesome. It’s actually called Miracle Minerals. I’ve been using it for about a year, and, okay, I know people say this all the time when it’s not really true, but really, for me, it’s true. MirMin changed my life. I used to have horrible food allergies. Going out to eat? Nightmare. But now I can eat whatever I’m in the mood for.”
“Great. What does it taste like?” He picked up his fork and pried out a piece of mussel flesh from the shell.
“Try a little.” She shook some on the mussel on his fork without waiting for him to reply. “It doesn’t really have much of a flavor. And it has so many benefits. Not just curing food allergies. It strips fat out of the liver. It’s great for controlling blood sugar. It gets rid of all kinds of toxins, which means clear skin, and more importantly, reducing headaches, preventing benign tumors and even cancer, and stopping cellular degeneration.”
“Wow.” Annabelle had sounded more animated talking about that MirMin than she had about anything else. He took the bite of mussel—and had to force himself to swallow. The MirMin tasted salty, bitter, and metallic, plus a flavor that he couldn’t describe in words, although he knew for sure he didn’t want ever want it on his tongue again. He took a long drink of water.
“See, you hardly know it’s there,” Annabelle said. David nodded, then drained the rest of his water glass.
“It’s so important to eliminate as many toxins in the body as possible,” Annabelle said. “There are actually three types of toxins. Did you know that?” She continued without waiting for him to reply. “Two of them are internal, called ama and amavisha, and one is environmental, which is called garavisha. Ama is from poor digestion, when you eat things like fried food, or cold food, or leftover foods.” She leaned forward and placed one hand over his. “I eat all of that. You know how happy I am that I can eat ice cream? Insanely happy. And I can because MirMin got rid of my allergies, and it nullifies the ama. Amavisha is—”
She was still talking, but David couldn’t focus. He felt like he’d slipped into another dimension. Who was this woman going on and on and on about the miraculous benefits of this mineral combination? He tuned in for a second. Now she was talking about how flatulence was caused by amavisha, whatever that was, and how you’d never get gas if you used the supplement.
He told himself to give her more of a chance. She was the same person he’d just had that amazing conversation with less than fifteen minutes ago. She still had those devilish eyebrows, that thick dark brown hair, and that fit body. So, she got a little carried away when she talked about something that had really helped her, so what? He took a mussel that hadn’t been doused with the MirMin and began prying out a bite. Annabelle leaned over and coated the bite with MirMin before he could bring it to his mouth.
“Just wait. Tomorrow you’re going to be feeling the effects. You might be a little nauseous or even have to spend some extra time in the bathroom,” Annabelle told him. “But after that, you’re going to feel sooo good. I love telling people about MirMin. I even started selling it to make it easier for my friends to buy it. And then some of them started selling it. We weren’t doing it for the money, but”—she leaned closer, and gave his hand a squeeze—“we’ve all made a crazy amount. I’m even thinking of quitting my job. And one of my friends already did. It’s working out great for her. She’s making almost twice as much as she was as a hairstylist, and I’m talking about a stylist at a super trendy salon, where she got fabulous tips.”
This isn’t a date, David realized. It’s a pyramid scheme pitch.
He did everything he could to wrap things up quickly so he could get out of there. He ate quickly without talking much. Annabelle was talking plenty for both of them, telling story after story about how friends of hers had benefited health-wise and finance-wise through MirMin. He refused dessert and coffee, telling Annabelle that he had to get to the bakery early, which was true, but nothing he would have cared about if the date had continued the way it had started.
At least they’d met at the restaurant. He didn’t have to worry about getting her home and turning down an invitation to come in. Her place was probably filled with Miracle Mineral brochures she’d be eager to go over with him. He just walked her to her car, where she kissed his cheek and told him she couldn’t wait to see him again. He’d murmured something noncommittal, and started for home. He’d walked, since the restaurant was only a few blocks away.
He paused outside the Thirsty Goat, then decided to go in. He could use a drink. He found a spot at the bar and ordered a loaded Corona. No better way to get a fast buzz, and that was what he wanted.
“I haven’t had a bomb shot since college,” a woman said as she slid onto the just-vacated stool beside his. “Any chance you have a Skittles bomb?” she asked the bartender.
Curious, David looked over at her. Brown eyes, curly blond hair. She looked vaguely familiar.
“I know, I know. I should be ashamed to order anything with candy in the name at my age. You know what they call it in France?”
“A Royale with Cheese?”
The woman gave an appreciative snort of laugher. “Close. A retreau. Hold the cheese,” she added. “I know what I’m doing here, but what are you doing here? I mean, alone. You looked like you were having a great time back at the restaurant.”
David stared at her.
“Sorry. That was a completely inappropriate question. Sometimes I am completely inappropriate. But not as inappropriate as the guy I was on a blind date with back at the restaurant where you obviously didn’t notice me,” she continued. “About two seconds after I got there, he pretty much forced me to say I’d pay, and then he ordered two appetizers, one with white truffles, which he didn’t offer to share, and a bottle of ridiculously pricey wine, no sharing of that, either, and the most expensive entrée on the menu. And yet he was surprised when I wanted to go home as soon as dinner was over.”
“My date, also of the blind variety, tried to sign me on to a multilevel marketing scam,” David told her. “At first she seemed so great. She seemed to be into everything I liked. Although now that I’m thinking about it, it was all stuff she knew I liked from my dating profile. I didn’t think of that at the time. I just thought we were really hitting it off. And then it all took a horrible turn.”
“And so we both ended up here, ordering drinks designed to get us quickly drunk,” she said. She stuck out her hand. “Jamie. Sorry you had suck a sucky night.”
“David,” he told her.
“The restaurant wasn’t the first place we saw each other,” Jamie said. “Well, I saw you there. You clearly didn’t see me.”
“The pet store! You were talking to yourself!” he burst out.
Jamie smiled. “And you were bragging about making your dog wear a
pink collar.”
“I apologized for the whole pink thing,” David reminded her. “What did your cat think of the leash?”
“Hated it. Hated me for putting it on him,” Jamie answered. “Hey, if you’re tired of conversation after your date from hell, I’m happy just to have my drink and leave you in peace,” Jamie told him.
“No, I’m feeling like I just met an old war buddy,” David answered. “So, you go on lot of blind dates?”
“Two, recently. Because I’m a wimp and couldn’t tell my two old lady neighbors no. But now they’ve each had a turn fixing me up, so I’m free,” Jamie answered. “You?” she asked as the bartender set down their drinks.
“I’ve got these,” David told her. “You’ve paid for enough for one night.”
“Thanks. That’s so nice. But if we get a second round, it’s on me,” Jamie said. “Although I’m not sure two of these is a good idea.” She took a sip of her drink. “Mmm. Tastes like the vodka-infused gummy bears I used to eat in college.”
“Sounds like you had a good college experience,” David commented.
Jamie laughed. “I did. Surprisingly, I also learned a few things. How about you?”
“I didn’t go to college. Well, I did, but only for a semester,” David said, wondering if she was one of those people who’d assume he was stupid because he didn’t have a degree. “I’m a baker. I basically learned on the job, plus helping my mom make Christmas cookies every year.”
“Do you like it?” She sounded genuinely interested.
“I do. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
“See? That’s what I want. Something like that, where I want to go to work. You want to go to work, don’t you?”
“Most of the time.” David took a swallow of his drink. “But not if I go crazy with these. What do you do that you don’t like doing?”