My Nerdy Valentine

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My Nerdy Valentine Page 6

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  As for Chester, a balding guy in his sixties who liked to dress in luau shirts, he always resisted on principle. He claimed the decorations were a waste of time and money. Because he was also retired, money might be part of the problem, but it was more likely that Chester didn't appreciate being herded into any group activity. Chester had been a bachelor all his life, and he marched to his own drummer.

  Mavis's door opened as Amanda put her key in the lock. "Amanda, there you are!"

  "I'm running late, Mavis." The lock was temperamental and she had to wiggle the key to get the door open, which gave Mavis time to bustle over with a plastic bag from Hallmark in one hand.

  "I bought you a few Valentine's Day decorations," she said. "I know you don't have time to shop."

  "Thanks, but I don't have time to put them up, either." As Amanda walked into her apartment, she thought she heard Chester's door open. She hoped not. Because she'd taken a later bus than usual, she didn't have time to deal with one of Mavis and Chester's confrontations.

  Mavis followed right on her heels. "Then I'll put them up for you. All I need is your permission. I found some adorable cupids, and—"

  "Mavis, are you at it again?" Chester walked in behind Mavis. "I thought I heard you over here pestering this poor girl."

  "I'm not pestering her. I'm helping her with Valentine's Day decorations."

  "Which I appreciate." Amanda put down her backpack and took off her coat. "Except right now, I have to—"

  "Amanda, don't let her put a damned thing on your door if you don't want her to. This is a free country."

  Mavis spun toward him. "It's a glorious country, Chester, where people are allowed to celebrate all these wonderful holidays! Do you realize how lucky you are that no one is forbidding you to celebrate?"

  "No, I don't, because I'm too busy dealing with a meddling woman who is forcing me to celebrate!"

  "Would it kill you to put up a couple of construction-paper hearts, Chester?" Mavis glared at him through her trifocals.

  "Everybody else on this floor thinks it's a great idea, and it makes the place look cheery. You're getting a reputation as a regular Grinch."

  "Good! I like that reputation just fine."

  "Guys," Amanda said, "I hate to interrupt, but you'll both have to go home. I have to change clothes and leave for work."

  "Don't mind us," Mavis said. Then she turned back to Chester. "Tell me this, Mr. Grinch. What are you going to do if you ever need help from one of your neighbors?"

  Chester rolled his eyes. "I'll worry about that when the time comes. In the meantime, I don't have to spend my valuable time cutting out paper hearts!"

  "Because you spend all your valuable time cutting out coupons. Don't think I haven't heard you asking people for their supplements to the Trib so you could cut the coupons out. It's a wonder they give them to you, the way you are."

  "Uh, guys ... it probably would be better if you—"

  "Go get ready for work," Chester said. "Or you'll be late, and you need that job. As for you, Mavis Endicott, quit buying door decorations for people who don't want them."

  "It's not that I don't want them," Amanda said. "It's just—"

  "See?" Mavis said. "She wants them. Amanda, go get ready for work. You can't afford to get fired."

  Amanda finally realized they weren't leaving, so she went into her bedroom, closed the door, and pulled her uniform out of the closet. The Geekland management had decided on short-sleeved plaid shirts, complete with pocket protector, and khaki pants. To complete the outfit, Amanda always loaded the pocket protector with pens.

  Opening her dresser drawer, she took out her flask-shaped Barmaster, a battery-operated gizmo that fit in her hand and had hundreds of drink recipes stored on it, both the ones loaded at the factory and the Geekland creations she'd added to its memory. A lot of her customers owned one, and she'd finally invested in one, too, so she could keep up.

  Grabbing a couple of small elastic bands, she put her hair up in two pigtails. Then she tucked the Barmaster and a pair of Geekland-issue glasses in her purse. The glasses had heavy black frames with clear lenses, and whenever she put them on, she seemed to transform into a nerd. It was the strangest thing. She was even better at operating the Barmaster.

  While she was getting ready, she could hear Mavis and Chester bickering like an old married couple. She had to admit that having them around was more of a perk than a liability. Sure, they interfered with her schedule sometimes, but she liked that they both watched out for her and cared whether she kept her job and graduated from college.

  And no matter how much they fought, she believed they cared about each other. Maybe her psych classes had made her too analytical, but she'd decided that Mavis and Chester relished their battles. Like tonight, for example. No doubt Chester had been lying in ambush for Mavis, knowing Mavis was lying in ambush for Amanda.

  All in all, Amanda liked having Chester and Mavis for neighbors. Sometimes, when she was feeling especially lonely, she pretended they were her folks.

  SIX

  William's cell rang while he was still on the bus heading home to his apartment. "Yo, it's Justin." "Hey, Justin." William envied his friend, who'd met the right woman and was up to his neck in June wedding plans. Seven months ago William had expected to be in the same boat, until he found Helen in bed with an old flame that had somehow rekindled when William wasn't looking.

  "Listen, Will, can I come on over now?" Justin said. "I need to talk to you about something before the game starts."

  "Wedding related?" William was the best man, so he was in on most of the plans. "Yeah, wedding related."

  "Sure. Come on over. I'll be home in ten minutes." Justin had a key to his apartment, and they never stood on ceremony. "If you get there first, order us a pizza. Beer's in the fridge."

  "Thanks, buddy. See you soon."

  William looked forward to a night of beer, pizza, and basketball, something he and Justin hadn't done in a while, not since Justin's engagement to Cindi. She was a travel agent currently on a junket to Hawaii with a bunch of other travel agents. It was what they called a "familiarization trip" so she could handle her job better when clients asked about hotels over there.

  While Cindi was soaking up the tropical sun, Justin had to put up with a drizzly cold day in Chicago. William decided to pull out the chocolate tits, after all. He might even show Justin the condoms and get his advice on dealing with Gloria.

  Justin was already at the apartment when William arrived. He'd parked himself in front of the TV with a beer and was watching ESPN. He looked up when William walked in. "Hey."

  "Hey." William could see Justin was in a foul mood. Normally the guy was a neat freak, but his blond hair was uncombed, his glasses were smudged, and his beige pullover sweater had a ketchup stain on the front. "So did you order the pizza?"

  "Yeah." Justin hit the mute button on the remote.

  "Wait till you see what a client gave me today." Will set his briefcase by the door and tossed the bag in Justin's direction.

  Justin caught it but didn't open it. "Cindi broke our engagement."

  "What?" William stopped unbuttoning his coat and stared at Justin.

  "You heard me." Justin put the bag next to him on the couch. "She called from Hawaii today. It seems she had some sort of epiphany over there. She wants to live on the beach and take up surfing."

  "Cindi? She's uncoordinated as hell."

  "She is not! It isn't her fault that nobody in her family played sports. With some training, she could—" Justin paused. "Wait, why am I defending her? She just dumped me! And you're right. She'll be a disaster out on that surfboard. She's a nerd, like me."

  "You're not a nerd." William maintained that he and Justin weren't true nerds, and he didn't want Justin backsliding. "You're intelligent and you're good at details, which is why you make a good chemist. But your clothes match ... usually ... and your social skills are fine."

  "Oh, they're peachy. That's why my fiancée cance
led the wedding. I'm not cool enough for her."

  "That's not why." William took off his coat and tossed it on a chair. "This is her problem, not yours. And not that I care, but how does she plan to put food on the table and a roof over her head?"

  "She said something about making shell necklaces for the tourists." Justin stared morosely at the bottle of beer in his hand. "I think she found a surfer dude over there, somebody with muscles."

  "If she's stupid enough to settle for that, angsting over her is pointless. She's not worth it." William took off his tie and tossed it on top of his coat. "I'm getting a beer. Want another one?"

  "Yeah. I'm liable to drink all you've got."

  "Feel free, but I don't think you should get wasted on Cindi's account. Consider yourself lucky that you didn't marry somebody so unbalanced."

  "Oh, yeah, I feel lucky all right." Justin chugged the last of his beer.

  In the kitchen, William grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and a bag of pretzels from the cupboard. Considering this turn of events, he wasn't sure whether to show Justin the condoms and chocolate tits or not. Something like that could tip the scales either way—toward crazy laughter or suicidal despair. Better not take the chance.

  But when he returned to the living room, the decision had been taken away from him. Justin was studying the directions for the condoms. "Amazing," he murmured.

  "Pretty wild, huh?"

  "No kidding." Justin glanced up. "I mean, logically, you'd be in dim light when you use them, so I'm not sure how you'd make them glow. Maybe you have to shine a flashlight on yourself for three seconds."

  "Don't know. Haven't tested them."

  "And you say you got these from a client!" William nodded. "She's a sex therapist who has an office down the hall from Cooper and Scott." "You mean Dr. Gloria Tredway?" "You know her?"

  "Nope. It's that photographic memory thing. I saw her name on the door that time I came to see your setup."

  "That's her." He sat on the couch and set Justin's beer on the coffee table. "She's ... different."

  Justin rolled his eyes. "Gee, you think? I take it the glowing condoms and candy boobies clued you in."

  "That, and the X-rated video she had playing on her office TV when I went in there this afternoon."

  "No shit! How long has she been a client?"

  William glanced at his watch. "About four and a half hours."

  Justin let out a whoop. "Man, you stumbled on a hot one! What does she look like?"

  "She's okay. She's a redhead, about five seven. Brown eyes."

  "Built?"

  "I guess."

  "You guess? A woman who happens to be a sex therapist is sending you condoms and teasing you with skin flicks, and you aren't sure whether or not she's built? What's wrong with you, buddy?"

  William took a swig of his beer. "She's not my type."

  "She sounds like she's everybody's type! I mean, you're not getting any these days. I'm not saying you should marry her. Hell, I'm beginning to think nobody should get married. Go for the sex and forget all the hearts-and-flowers crap."

  "You may have a point." William had to admit that the hearts-and-flowers routine hadn't worked out that well for him up to now.

  "Of course I have a point." Justin grabbed his beer and drank deeply. "Look at me. I'm the poster boy for romantic schmucks who get the shaft. Did you know that next week is Valentine's Day?"

  "As it happens, I do know that."

  "Well, so do I, as all engaged men are expected to know. I've made reservations at the Pump Room and ordered a dozen roses. The Godiva isn't bought yet, but that's only because I wanted it to be fresh. I was planning to handpick the kind of truffles Cindi likes. Oh, and I nearly forgot the diamond stud earrings I have sitting in a velvet box in my apartment."

  "I'm sorry, man." William sighed. "Cindi's an idiot."

  "No, I'm the idiot, thinking I had something solid when a trip to Hawaii was all it took to turn her into a beach bunny. And you—" Justin pointed the neck of his bottle at William. "Your deal was almost as bad. You weren't actually engaged, but damned close. Then bam! Helen turns on you. Poor slob, you didn't see it coming."

  "No, I didn't." But looking back on that time, William realized he'd missed some important indications that Helen was losing interest. He'd been concentrating on his master's dissertation and interviewing for jobs, so he hadn't noticed that she'd stopped telling him she loved him, stopped writing him cute little notes, stopped initiating sex.

  Justin might be guilty of the same complacence. Cindi could have been showing signs of restlessness that Justin chose to ignore. Now wouldn't be the time to bring that up, because the guy already felt bad enough. But William thought it might be a danger in any relationship—thinking that it would rock along in the same rut forever.

  "Women," Justin muttered. "You can't count on them."

  "Maybe not."

  "From now on, I'm in it for the sex, and that's all. Are you with me, Will?"

  "Guess so." Now wasn't the time to argue.

  "Then let's drink to it." Justin held up his beer bottle. "To mindless sex!"

  "To mindless sex." William clinked his bottle against Justin's and took a swallow of his beer.

  "I have an awesome idea."

  William could tell Justin was getting smashed, because when he was sober he would never use the word awesome. "What's that?"

  "Let's watch the game and eat our pizza."

  "Justin, that was always the plan." Poor guy, he was starting to babble.

  "I know, but here's the new wrinkle. After the game, let's blow this joint and go somewhere." "Like?"

  "That place I keep hearing about. It's supposed to be a riot. What is it, again? Geekland! That's it. Let's go there."

  William couldn't believe his bad luck today. It hadn't all been bad, though, because he'd made contact with Amanda. Still, she'd be convinced he was stalking her if he showed up at Geekland. "Are you sure you want to go there? I can think of a ton of other bars that would be way better."

  "I can't. Other bars are all the same. This one's different. A guy at work loves the drinks there, and he said they serve great burgers and wings. The waiters and waitresses dress up like geeks, and the customers play trivia and stuff."

  "But we're not geeks. We won't fit in."

  Justin gazed at him. "Not to be insulting, but you'll fit in just fine. Let's go. It's exactly what I need."

  William weighed his loyalties. Sure, he'd promised Amanda he wouldn't come to her place of work, but he'd known her only a few hours. Justin had been his best friend for years. They'd pulled each other through all-nighter study sessions and had pooled their money whenever they both ended up broke. Justin had been there for him when Helen had defected. William had to stand by his friend now. "Okay," he said. "Geekland it is."

  Hey, Amanda, what's the name of that guy who did the experiment with the dogs and ringing bells? It's on the tip of my tongue." Amanda squirted seltzer water into the blue-green drink in her hand and glanced over at Leonard, a short, stocky nerd who was one of Geekland's regulars. He sat at the clear acrylic bar that created a hundred-and-eighty-degree curve—Amanda's domain. Behind her, arranged in colorful rows, were the bottled items she used to work her magic.

  Most of the customers preferred sitting at the bar so they were closer to the trivia monitors. For the overflow, or those few who didn't play trivia, there were clear acrylic tables and chrome chairs scattered throughout the room. Abstract neon sculptures on the walls gave off an otherworldly glow. As usual, the place was packed.

  Amanda had to raise her voice to be heard over the sound system, which was belting out "Material Girl." "Pavlov!"

  "Right. I knew that." Leonard punched a button on his remote keyboard. "Yes! Five hundred points!" He held both hands in the air and undulated in time to Madonna.

  "Leonard, quit bugging Amanda while she's making my drink." Bertrand, a long-haired premed student who always dressed in black, slapped money on the
bar before walking over to Leonard and peering up at the television screen flashing the multiple-choice trivia questions. Then he leaned close to Leonard. "Number four. Occipital bone." "Thanks, man!"

  "No fair!" A girl in an oversized Star Trek T-shirt glared at Leonard from her position two stools down. "You shouldn't get points for that."

  "Hey, it counts for Geekland, too, you know," Leonard said. "And being number three in the country is just not good enough."

  "Damn straight!" called a guy on the far side of the wraparound bar. "Number one or bust!"

  Several shouts of agreement went up from the customers concentrating intently on the TV screens mounted around the perimeter of the bar's center island.

  Tina, a thin waitress wearing the requisite plaid shirt and khakis, came toward Amanda. In Tina's case, the black-framed glasses were prescription. "Can I have a Theory of Evolution?" She set her round tray on the bar. "I have a fan of layered drinks over at table three, so I recommended that."

  "Coming up." Amanda pressed the touch screen on her computer before setting Bertrand's drink on a cocktail napkin. Then she reached for the Baileys that formed the bottom level of the Evolution, another drink that had been invented at Geekland. She'd stayed busy all night, which had helped distract her from thoughts about William.

  But whenever she did think about him, she pictured him standing in the cold Chicago wind without his hat as he gazed up at her bus. She would bet her night's worth of tips that he'd left off the hat because of her. If he would do that, then surely he'd also sent the valentine.

  If not him, then who? It could be somebody at Geekland, except she didn't think anybody here knew about her day job. She supposed they could have taken the trouble to find out, though. And they were geeks, so they knew how to look things up.

  Leonard seemed to have a crush on her, although he'd never asked her out. No one did anymore, unless they were new to Geekland. She'd spread the word early that she wasn't dating. Leonard might be capable of sending a secret valentine, though.

 

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