by Anthology
I’m eating a salad and a dry piece of baked chicken, trying out the latest diet. My curves are a gift from all the hormones I had to take in an attempt to get knocked up, or so I tell myself. Losing the weight has been a struggle, even with diet and exercise. Sometimes I wonder if the pounds had been Corey’s reason for looking elsewhere.
Unfortunately for me, the television is on mute when I hear noises in the hall. I’d taken a phone call from Amelia and had silenced my background noise to share the news of my date this weekend.
With the remote in my hand, I’m just about to unmute it when a loud giggle can be heard on the other side of my door.
“Joel, you are so funny.” The voice is unmistakable.
I close my eyes and turn the volume up high. I don’t want to hear whatever else Cara has to say. He’s brought her home on hump day. That’s all I really need to know.
The thing that sucks is I can’t be mad at him. He wanted something with me, and I’d turned him down. Furthermore, I’d been the one to set them up. Good for him.
Liar, the invisible devil inside me shouts.
Chapter Eight
Earbuds block me from hearing all the painful details of Cara’s date with Joel that next day. Instead, I try to decide if I’m happy or disappointed I didn’t run into Joel at the gym this morning.
It’s my lunchtime visitor who throws me for a loop.
“Corey, what are you doing here?”
Cara and Janet watch. I’m sure they were about to dish about Cara’s night until my boyishly sexy ex shows up.
“Can I take you to lunch?”
There are so many questions I want to toss to the man, like how he found out where I worked. Then again, he’d been at Amelia’s over the weekend. I’m so going to kill my sister.
“Sure.” I don’t want to air our dirty laundry to the peanut gallery.
Once Corey’s hand lands on the small of my back, I hear snickering behind me. I roll my eyes, wishing I worked at a big corporation lost in a sea of cubicles and anonymity.
Outside on the sidewalk, crushed by the foot traffic of other lunch-goers, I grit out, “How did you find out where I work? And why aren’t you in Philadelphia at your own job?”
He doesn’t answer, only points at a café a few doors down. I nod and bide my time. Once we are seated in a corner near the front picture window, I ask him to explain himself again.
“Should I order your usual?”
Not that we’d frequent this café, but he reminds me that he’s known me long enough to order on my behalf.
Feeling little more than a bobblehead, I nod again. He walks toward the counter, and heads turn to take notice of him. He’s that good looking, but the jealousy I used to feel doesn’t manifest. It’s like going to Belgium and eating chocolate and coming back to the States and having some here. It’s good, but it’s not the same.
If nothing else, my drunken, shameful night with Joel opened my eyes to something new and quite possibly better. Even though I can’t be with him, he’s inadvertently shown me what I’ve been missing out on.
Corey comes back to the table with a turkey and bacon sandwich on a succulent looking croissant. It is what I would have ordered before I moved to D.C. and decided to work on my weight. I say nothing, though. I’ll probably need the calories to make it through the upcoming conversation.
“Are you going to answer me?” I ask in a harsh whisper with my sandwich halfway to my mouth.
His heavy sigh and crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes spark worry in me. Has he been sleeping? Why do I care? I chide myself. He’s probably sleeping with someone else in our bed. That’s why he looks so damn tired.
“I miss you,” he declares.
I try not to choke as I laugh. “Really. Did your girlfriend leave you? She probably doesn’t want to wash your tighty-whities.”
He doesn’t wear them, but the words slip out of my mouth with a verbal slap.
His glare burns out as quickly as it fired up. “You’re wrong. She can’t wait for our divorce to be final so I can marry her and make babies.”
Disgust covers his handsome features as my bite of sandwich curdles in my stomach.
“You should.” I’m proud of myself for eking out my agreement.
“What?”
I swallow, holding back tears. “You should be with her. She can give you what I can’t.”
His hand covers mine. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want those things if I can’t have them with you.”
Slowly, I draw my hand back, to his dismay. Shortly after I left him, there were days when I’d wanted to hear those words and go back to the man I thought I would grow old with.
“We can’t.” Then I realize my mistake. “I can’t.”
His brow creases and he looks like a defeated man. “Livvy, please.”
I shake my head. “Don’t you see? You broke us. If I went back to you now, which I’m not, I would resent you. I would always think about how you chose to experiment with others before making a decision about who you wanted to be with.”
“What are you saying?”
Our food, which looked so appetizing before, suddenly makes my stomach turn.
“I’m saying I want that opportunity too. I want to date other people and see what it’s like.”
His eyes darken, and I consider calling the fire department for the proverbial smoke curling out his ears. “You want to sleep with other guys?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. But I want the chance to make that decision for myself.”
“You’re saying you didn’t sleep with that Joel guy?”
I hold his gaze and feel really tired. Maybe months ago I would have thrown it in his face that I’d had the best sex of my life with a really great guy, but now I don’t. I know this man, and I love him still. So there’s no malice when I gently say, “That’s really none of your business.”
“Jesus, Olivia, what’s happened to us?”
I could so easily point the finger at him, but I prove how mature I’ve become. “We’ve grown up. Maybe our parents were right and we shouldn’t have gotten married so young.”
“Are you saying that people who dated in high school shouldn’t marry?”
Patience, I tell myself.
“Of course not. I’m talking about us, not the rest of the population. It didn’t work for us, otherwise you wouldn’t have found it necessary to sleep with other people.”
He doesn’t correct my use of the plural. I wait for the hurt to come.
“I’m sorry, Olivia, I made a mistake.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“So let’s try.”
I let the pause grow into silence before I answer him again.
“We should try, but not together. We should date other people, move on. If it’s meant to be, will find each other again.”
In no way am I trying to sound poetic. But there it is.
“How long?”
There’s something desperate in his question, and a crack begins to form in my heart. I answer before I lose my nerve.
“I don’t know. A year or so…”
“So in a year, you’ll come back to me?”
His voice comes out rough and broken, sounding more lost than I’ve ever heard him.
“I’m not saying that. In a year, you could have moved on, or maybe I have. But I need this time to figure out what I want, who I am without you.”
“I fucked up, didn’t I, Livvy?” I don’t answer. “Can you at least let me try to win you back? Take you out on a date or something?”
“I don’t know. Certainly not any time soon.”
“But maybe?”
There is so much hope there. I nod in agreement. “Just not in the next several months, please.”
The lunch with Corey leaves me in such a fog, I don’t hear anything Cara and Janet say as they hover around my desk animatedly talking. In fact, the next few days until my date with Paul go by without notice except for one thing. I haven’t seen or
heard a peep from Joel since the day of his date with Cara, and I have to guess he’s avoiding me.
Chapter Nine
Limping up the stairs, growling the whole way, I’m sure all I need is a pirate hat and clothes to finish off my Long John Silver impression. Oh, that, and a parrot. Maybe I should get one. I’m pretty certain dating is off the table for me.
“Olivia, are you okay?”
I glance up into impossibly blue eyes which remind me of the sky on a clear, sunny day. In their depths is kindness and everything that made me love him as a friend.
“Joel.”
Swiftly, he’s got me supported under my arm and pulls my keys from my hand as we walk the several feet to my apartment. It’s been so long, or so it feels like, I say nothing as he helps me inside to sit on my couch. He gets some ice into a bag and brings it to me.
I sigh while he plants himself on my coffee table to sit right in front of me. He extends my injured leg to rest beside him and places the ice on my ankle before he speaks.
“What happened?”
“Everything,” I mutter. “I think I’ve decided I don’t want kids, but maybe a parrot instead.”
His face screws up in confusion.
“Never mind.” I fall back to let my eyes aim at the ceiling while cushioning my back against the sofa.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
I blink and remember all the times over the past year that we shared our secrets, little bits of our lives that wouldn’t interest anyone else. And I’d ruined that by sleeping with him. Maybe if I just tell him, our friendship can get back on track.
“I went out on a date.” I expel air from my lungs and summon the courage to explain the rest.
Unwilling to look at him, I have no idea what he’s thinking when he says nothing for longer than a pause.
“How’d it go?”
“Great.” I sound sarcastic when, in reality, everything had gone well.
“But…”
I suck in a deep breath, knowing I am going to sound slutty with my next breath.
“I invited him over, not wanting the night to end.” I pause for a second. “He then informs me that he has to get home to relieve the babysitter. He’d told me about his daughter, so I wasn’t surprised. He offered for me to go with him to hang out at his place, since it was late and his daughter would be asleep.”
“Did he hurt you?” Joel growled, obviously coming to the wrong conclusion about why I had a limp.
“No, of course not. After we got there and he paid the sitter, his daughter came flying into the foyer where we still stood.” I sigh. “I don’t think he expected to introduce me, as it was just our first date.”
My mind replays the events as I tell them to Joel.
“Daddy, who is this?” the tiny girl says with so much snark she sounds twenty years older than she is.
“This is my friend Olivia.”
“Isn’t it too late to have her here? I’m going to tell Mommy.”
Paul bends down to talk to his daughter at her eye level. “We’ve talked about this. Mommy and Daddy are divorced.”
“I don’t care,” the girl yells, running in place and throwing a tantrum. “I want my mommy, not this stupid woman.”
With surprising strength, the little girl kicks me on my shin before stomping on my toe then running off, wailing all the way.
“Shit,” Joel says, bringing me back to the present. “What did the guy do?”
“Well…” I breathe. “We mutually agreed it was best I go.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad.”
“No, but when he didn’t offer to call me a cab or ask me to call him to let him know I got home safely. That pretty much ended any interest in him on my part.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
I raise my head and meet his gaze. “Do what?”
“Date?”
“Yes. I’ve never really been on a date until tonight.”
“Corey?”
“I don’t think it counts when your first date was getting together on the playground, him asking if I wanted to be his girlfriend, and me saying sure.”
“Okay.” He sounds thoughtful.
“I do know now that kids hate me.”
He rubs my leg, and suddenly my lady parts are screaming, Up a little higher. But he keeps it PG, much to my regret.
“Kids don’t hate you. She sounds like a brat. Anyway, I have an idea.”
I wait for him to speak, and when he doesn’t, I prod him. “And?”
“I know someone who would be perfect for you.”
“For real?” I’m intrigued and a little disappointed. He’s given up on me. I tamp that down. “Who is he?”
He squeezes my hand. “I’m not telling. I’ll set it up, like a blind date.”
“A blind date,” I squeak. That scares the shit out of me. I’ve heard horror stories from my friends.
“Yes. And trust me.” He gets to his feet. “You should keep your foot elevated for a while. Call me if you need help getting undressed and into bed.”
Waggling his eyebrows, he winks at me. I smile, enjoying our playful banter. Though, as he leaves, I’m left a little depressed that he offered to set me up and not take me out himself.
Chapter Ten
Staring at myself in the mirror, I wonder for the millionth time if I look okay. I’m meeting my date at a five-star restaurant downtown, owned by a celebrated and nationally known chef. I’ve never been there, but I hear getting a reservation takes some doing. That only makes me more curious about the mystery man I’m meeting tonight.
My week has flown by, and I’ve gotten back to routine. Joel and I work out every morning and have eased back into our previous friendship. He’s been close-lipped about my date, only promising I’ll enjoy myself if I give the guy a chance.
“I wish I could be there,” Amelia says on the other end of the phone. “Text me a selfie.”
“Give me a minute.” I do as she asked.
“Oh shit, I’m not going to get it while we’re on the phone.”
“It’s okay. My Uber will be here soon, so there’s no changing now.”
“I’m sure you look great.”
“I hope so.” Though I don’t feel the excitement I should.
“You could have called Madame Zelda. She hit the nail on the head with Paul.”
I’ve considered just that, waffling on whether I want to know my future if she’s the real deal. Time has made the decision for me, as my date is tonight.
“Maybe next time,” I say.
“So you’re already assuming this guy isn’t going to be the one.”
Not when one lives across the hall, and I’m too afraid to go out with him because of our age difference.
“I’m not holding my breath. Paul was great, and look where that got me.”
“You’re lucky you met the little twat. She showed you her dad’s bad side. Yes, I get that he was concerned about his daughter. But he didn’t even give you five seconds to worry about your well-being. He left you on his doorstep to fend for yourself. No wonder he’s divorced.”
My phone chimes. I glance at the screen before putting it back to my ear. “You’re right. But I’ve got to go. My Uber’s here. I’ll call you when I get home.”
“You better, or I’m sending out a search party. Just in case, take a picture of the guy and send it to me. In fact, ask your waiter to hold on to his empty glass in case we need his prints.”
I laugh. “I love you, Amelia. But you worry too much.”
Zooming down M Street and onto Massachusetts Avenue, nerves start to get the better of me. What kind of man does Joel know? How does he know my date?
We make it to our destination, and I get out and stare at the awning before my gaze falls on the doorman, who looks amused.
“Evening, ma’am.” He tips his hat. “Can I help you?”
Embarrassed, I walk over to him. “I’m meeting someone here tonight.”
I take a moment to think about that. Then it hits me. This is what I wanted, to explore my options. Dating isn’t only to meet a future significant other. It’s also about learning who I am and what I want.
“No, actually.” I smile. “Tonight’s going to be great.”
The older man grins at me and opens the door. I cross the threshold and clear my head of any doubts. I confidently walk to the hostess station.
“Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” the woman in all black asks.
Joel told me that my date had put it under my name to make it easier for me.
“Yes, it’s under Olivia Cole.”
She checks her screen. “Yes, your other party has arrived. Let me take you to your seat.”
The dark wood and low lighting make it hard to focus on the faces I pass. The tall, slender woman before me blocks my view ahead. I rub my hands on the sides of my dress, trying to stave off any potential for sweaty hands when I greet my date.
She stops at a small round table for two. The man’s back is to me. “Here you are.” She waves at the chair like she’s a model on the The Price Is Right.
After she leaves, I’m about to sit, when my date stands. Apparently, he’s prepared to do the gentleman thing and help me get seated. When he turns, I lose my breath.
He takes my hand from where I’ve covered my mouth.
“Don’t think too much. Just enjoy the evening.”
Then he leans in and kisses me softly on my lips. If I weren’t so stunned, I might melt. But as it is, I barely realize he’s taken my hand to guide me to my chair. I sit, still overcome with so many emotions I can barely think.
“Wine?” a waiter asks, coming up so silently I might have jumped.
However, I still haven’t gotten over how tonight is shaping up. I nod vigorously, knowing I’m going to need a few bottles just to survive the shock.
I gulp down my first glass.
“You’re overthinking this. You want to date, and I get that. But I also know I’m not going to let you go without a fight.”