Kissing Robert

by Jennifer Wilson

  “I think you fell asleep at your desk,” he said, his eyes twinkling merrily.

  “Oh my god,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Oh my god.”

  “Don’t let it phase you,” he said. “It happens to the best of us. Remember how you poked me during that meeting the other day? I was about to nod off myself!”

  “Too many late nights I guess.”

  “I guess,” he said. “Having trouble sleeping?”

  “Yes. Ever since Jacob left I just wake up all night long. And I have the weirdest dreams. Really vivid dreams.”

  “Sorry. I know how hard that can be.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eleven-forty.”

  “Crap! I gotta go to lunch,” she said, standing and gathering her purse. “I’m going to be late.”

  “Don’t worry. Making him wait a little bit will only heighten his anticipation, right?” Tad asked, eyebrows raised.

  “How did you know—” she began, but he cut her short with a wave of his hand.

  “I have an intuition about these things,” he said, smiling. “Now go, and have fun.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Tad.”

  She walked out into the bright Tulsa summer day and turned her face to the sun, hoping that it might put a little color into her pale cheeks. She wished furiously that she had had time to freshen up her makeup first. In a few moments she reached the sanctuary of the pizza parlor and entered its cozy atmosphere, air redolent of rising dough and marinara sauce. Scanning the room, she quickly located Dolf’s blond ponytail, and crossed the room as he rose from his chair to shake her hand.

  “Olivia; nice to meet you,” he said with an endearing, crooked smile. “I’m Dolf.”

  “Dolf, thank you. Nice to meet you too.”

  They sat. Looking across the table, she found him studying the menu. She took the opportunity to appraise his looks. Eyes: clear, dark blue. Hair: blonde. Cheeks: ruddy. Although it was true that his beard, more red than fair, covered the lower half of his face, she had to admit, he was pretty damn good-looking. Beards were very fashionable, and at least his was clean and trimmed. So there was that. What would it be like to kiss him? She wondered suddenly, and blushed. He looked up.

  “What’s good here?” he asked. “I’ve never come before.”

  “Oh, uh…” she stammered. “I like the margherita pizza, personally.”

  “Okay then,” he said, shutting the menu with a snap and giving her a grin. “Let’s get the large and call it done, shall we? Then we can get on with the business of getting to know each other.”

  “Okay,” she said, smiling nervously. “Where do we start?”

  “How much time do we have? When do you have to get back to work?”

  “I’ve got an hour.”

  “That doesn’t leave us very long,” he frowned. “We’ll just have to have a second date to remedy that!”

  The waiter arrived and Dolf ordered a beer. Olivia fervently wished for a glass of wine to put her at ease, but she was working and couldn’t risk failing a drug test. Her company’s zero tolerance policy was a real bummer sometimes. She ordered iced tea.

  “What do you want to know about me?” he asked. “I’ll tell you anything.”

  “Well, you know I have two kids, right?” No sense beating around the bush, she thought. Might as well cut to the chase. “Are you cool with that?”

  “Very cool,” he said, nodding. “I love kids. Don’t have any of my own, but have lots of nieces and nephews who like to climb all over me when I visit. I’m the king of cool, just ask them.”

  “I might have to do that,” she said. “And you know I’m not divorced yet, just separated. What about you?”

  “Divorced once,” he said. “Cheated on.”

  “My story too.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s not easy to get over.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m not honestly sure that I am over it, but here I am.”

  “Understood. I’ll try not to push you in your healing. It’s been three years for me. How long for you?”

  “Twelve months, two weeks, and three days.”

  “Wow. That’s…precise.”

  “I guess,” she shrugged. “He told me on the fourth of July that I just didn’t turn him on anymore. That he didn’t love me like he used to. It was his own independence day.”

  “Ouch. Harsh.”

  “Yes.”

  Why am I telling him all this? Olivia wondered. She poured sugar in her tea as she exhorted herself to slow down.

  “Well, let me just tell you right now that you are a beautiful woman. You don’t have to take that from him. It doesn’t have to shape you. You can overcome that kind of negativity, but it takes time.”

  “What do you do for a living?” she asked, suddenly anxious to change the subject. “I think your bio said you were a fitness instructor of some kind?”

  “I’m a yoga instructor, but I also throw pottery,” he said. “I live in a studio apartment above my workshop.”

  “That sounds really interesting.”

  “It is. I love my work. How about you?”

  Olivia definitely did not love her work. But how would it sound to say so? Here was a man living his dream, and she didn’t want to sound bitter. “I’m a computer programmer. It’s okay. Not nearly as creative as your job, but it pays the bills.”

  “Yeah, that’s what so many people are doing, just paying the bills. That would just kill me.”

  Not good she thought. Now it sounds like I have no joy in my life.

  “But my kids are worth it,” she said. “For now, it’s just what I have to do. I have been thinking about getting back on the stage though; I used to act in high school and it’s something I would like to get into again.” She wasn’t sure why she said it, but she was getting the distinct impression that he thought she was pretty uninteresting.

  “Terrific!” he exclaimed. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You gotta have something that lights that fire inside, you know? Otherwise you’re just a dim bulb.”

  Wow. Now what is he saying about me?

  “Anyway,” he continued. “That’s my philosophy: do what you love, love what you do.”

  “That’s the dream. You’re lucky.”

  “Luck, schmuck. I believe you make your own luck. Life throws you lemons, make lemonade. That kind of thing.”

  “Yeah…” she said, trying to quell the notion that the man was just a walking, talking platitude. She was grateful when the pizza arrived. After a few moments of silent eating, he continued.

  “You should come to my yoga classes sometime. I work at Om Yoga Studio, in the Millwood shopping center.”

  “That’s not far from my house,” she said. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that. When are they?”

  “Mondays through Fridays, every hour til six. We have childcare, too.”

  “Great,” she said. “I need to get more active.”

  “You’d never know from looking at you,” he said with a wink. She blushed again. “But seriously, you should come. It’s fun. And you don’t have to do it perfectly. That’s why we call it a yoga practice. There’s always room for improvement.”

  “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

  They chatted about movies and books then (Olivia preferred fiction and Dolf liked documentaries), and soon the hour was over. Dolf walked with her back to work and they paused in front of the building to say good-bye.

  “So how many guys have you met from Hey.com?” he asked.

  “You’re the first,” she said.

  “The first! Well then, I hope I haven’t done too badly.”

  Before she could answer he leaned in and kissed her cheek, his beard soft against her skin. A slight tingle passed quickly through her body that was not at all unpleasant.

  “See you later,” he said with a wave as he walked away. She watched him go, noticing the way the jeans hung on his lean frame and the grace with which he moved. Not bad she thought. Not bad at all
.

  But how had she fared in his eyes? She just wasn’t sure. Time would tell, she supposed, as she opened the office building door and went back to work.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Jacob was coming to pick up the kids. Whether his long-dormant conscience had sprung back to life, or things in underwear-model-world were at a lull, Olivia couldn’t say. Either way, he had called to say he’d be by in an hour, so she was scrambling to pack duffel bags and give her children last-minute instructions.

  “Don’t stay up too late,” she admonished Bradley. “No matter what Daddy says. And don’t watch scary movies, okay? I don’t want you having nightmares later.”

  “What about me? Can I watch scary movies and stay up late?” Beatrice asked, eyebrow raised.

  “No, you cannot. Just…make good decisions,” she finished lamely.

  “He’s going to be all goofy with Ali, I just know it,” Beatrice lamented. “And mushy gushy. And we’ll be trapped.”

  “He will do nothing of the sort. And if he does, just tell him to knock it off,” Olivia said. “I bet he’ll try to spoil you rotten, that’s all. He’ll let you get away with anything. I just want you to be wise.”

  “Because of his guilty conscience, you mean?” Beatrice asked. “He’ll give us whatever we want?”

  “I’m not giving you license to test that theory,” she countered.

  “Don’t worry,” Beatrice said. “But I am working on a Christmas list already.”

  “How many days til Christmas?” Bradley asked, suddenly attentive.

  “I have no idea, goofus,” Olivia said, bending to kiss him. “It’s a lot of months yet. Your birthday, Halloween, and Thanksgiving all have to happen first!”

  “Right. My birthday,” he nodded, smiling. “I’ll be five!”

  “Five is a great number,” Olivia agreed. “One of my favorites. A whole hand! Now see if you can find your pajama top, will you? It’s not in the clothes hamper or your drawer.”

  Bradley left to search his bedroom for the missing item, and Beatrice put her arms around Olivia.

  “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise,” she said. “But I’ll miss you, Mom. And I really hate Ali.”

  “Oh my girl,” Olivia muttered, pressing her daughter close. “Don’t hate Ali. It’s not her fault she’s beautiful and alluring.”

  “You’re way prettier than Ali, Mom!”

  “Well, whatever. It is what it is. Just try to have a good time, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  The doorbell rang, and her heart leapt in her chest. The thought of seeing Jacob always left her dry-mouthed, and she straightened her shirt and smoothed her hair in the entryway mirror. She was glad she had put on makeup and showered that morning. At least he wouldn’t think she had let herself go. She opened the door.

  “Hey Olivia,” Jacob said. His grey eyes flicked over her appraisingly. “You’re looking well.”

  “Thanks,” she said, feeling overly gratified and hating herself for it. “Where’s Ali?”

  “In the car,” he waved in the general direction of the Mercedes, and she caught a glimpse through the passenger-side window of the highly-sought profile, the perfect upturned nose, the long, lean neck and flowing, raven-hued hair. She waved and saw a slight motion of returned greeting.

  “Can’t you guys come in for a minute? Bradley is still getting his things together.”

  “Can’t. Gotta run to a barbecue at the agency’s place.”

  “Daddy!” Bradley shouted with glee and threw himself into his father’s arms.

  “Hey buddy!” Jacob lifted Bradley and smiled as the boy burrowed into his neck.

  “I missed you!”

  “I missed you too, Brad.”

  Olivia winced. She hated the nickname.

  “Hi Dad,” Beatrice said, coming around the corner, arms folded.

  “Hi sweetheart,” Jacob smiled and moved to put his other arm around her; she grudgingly accepted the gesture. “You guys ready to go?”

  “Yes!” Bradley yelled, and Beatrice nodded. Bradley held the pajama top out to Olivia.

  “It was under my covers!”

  “Good boy.” Olivia took the clothing, stuffed it into the duffel, and handed it to Jacob. Beatrice shouldered her own bag and the trio headed towards the waiting car.

  “Bye Mommy!” Bradley called, waving furiously. She waved back, and Beatrice turned also.

  “Bye Mom,” she said. Her face was a mask of courage but even at a distance Olivia could see the sorrow and anger in her daughter’s eyes. In the midst of her own hurt, she still prayed that the ice around Bea’s heart would begin to thaw, knowing that things would be easier for her if it did.

  She shut the door, noticing just how loud the sound of it was as it echoed through the empty house. Tears unbidden welled up in her eyes and she let them fall, since there was no one around to have to reassure. What was she supposed to do with herself all weekend with the kids away? Suddenly the next forty-eight hours stretched impossibly long before her.

  Now Livie, she lectured herself. Don’t you dare sink into self-pity. There are tons of things you could do with yourself. A lot of women would love to have the weekend all to themselves!

  A sudden indignation rose up within her, eclipsing the sadness she felt. She would show Jacob that she wasn’t going to pine the hours away waiting for their children to come back. She’d go out dancing, that’s what she’d do. Her life could be every bit as exciting as his! She’d call up Sally and Shirley and they could go shopping tomorrow. She’d buy herself a new pair of shoes.

  Pressing the buttons on her phone for her friends, she quickly lined up plans for the evening and weekend. There was a new honky-tonk dance hall in town that had their names written all over its sawdust-covered floor, and on Saturday they’d hit their favorite boutiques for all the shoes she could handle.

  ~~~~~~~~~

  “What did you say your name was?” the man asked, hollering over the country music and leaning in.

  “Olivia!” she hollered back, into his waiting ear. He was not the first cowboy to ask for her name that evening, but he was the first to whom she wanted to give an answer. He had caught her eye from the moment he walked through the front doors and sat at the bar. Tall and thin, he had large green eyes, brown curls that peeked out from under his cowboy hat, and a tidy goatee.

  “Nice to meet you!” he said. “I’m Marcus. Can I buy you and your friends a drink?”

  “Sure!”

  “What’ll you have?”

  “Lemon drops,” she answered, turning back to Sally and Shirley and giggling madly.

  The drinks came with alacrity, and the women sipped them. Marcus pulled his barstool closer to Olivia’s.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

  “This is my first time.”

  “Well that explains it then. Although this place is pretty new. Do you want to dance?”

  Olivia gulped her drink and nodded. He led her on the dance floor in a quick two-step until she was panting and laughing by turns. Stumbling momentarily, he caught her in his arms and she appreciated the feel of his biceps through his snap front shirt.

  “Tired out?” he said, eyes twinkling. She nodded and they headed back to the bar, where he ordered two beers, handing one to her and winking. “I’ll give you a minute to drink this and catch your breath…but only a minute!”

  Obediently, she put the bottle to her lips. It was cold and slightly bitter and she leaned into the barstool and sighed contentedly.

  “Having fun?” Sally asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Yes!”

  “Good! He’s pretty cute, huh?”

  “Very,” Olivia nodded, glancing over at Marcus, who was talking to a cluster of men not far away.

  “Think any of his friends would want to dance?”

  “You’ll never know until you ask!”

  Sally approached the group and soon was on the dance floor with a beefy, jovial-looking man who stood
over a head taller than her. His size was no hindrance to his dancing ability, however, and he was leading her smoothly as they spun and wove amidst the other people with precision. Shirley had her own man on her arm, and was laughing at a joke shared only between the two of them. Olivia was grateful that she hadn’t let her broken heart stand in the way of having a good time.

  “Ready to go again?” Marcus was asking. She nodded and took his hand. She thought it was awfully small for such a tall man, but as he pressed her hips to his as the music shifted to a slow dance, she forgot about it. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. The room spun slightly, due more to the alcohol than the motion of the dancing, and she only twice thought of Jacob and what he might be doing to win her children’s affections.

  “Your friends are almost as attractive as you are,” Marcus said into her ear. “Are they pretty adventurous?”

  “I guess so,” she answered.

  “I can think of some fun things we could do together,” he said then.

  “Really? You know of some other places to go?”

  “Uh, sure. If that’s all you want. But I have some other ideas too.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant, but then the music changed and he was teaching her to waltz. She was clumsily trying to keep up and laughing far too often, but everything just seemed so damned funny.

  The evening drew to a close, and the bar announced last call at 12:45am.

  “Want anything else?” Marcus asked, his arm around her as they left the dance floor.

  “No, I’m good,” she said. “But I gotta go pee.”

  “By all means,” he smiled, and gestured towards the bathrooms. Inside the ladies’ room she met Sally and Shirley, who were also brimming over with good will.

  “Shall we take this party somewhere else?” Olivia asked as she exited the stall and washed her hands.

  “I’m done in!” Sally said, wiping sweat from her hairline with a paper towel. “I think I’m going to have to call it a night.”

  “Party pooper,” Olivia said, pouting.