Joie de Vivre

by Micheala Lynn

  “Oh sorry.” She turned and sucked in a quick breath. The hand was attached to a stunningly beautiful woman. “I didn’t see you there.”

  The woman flashed her a soft lazy smile. “No, that’s all right. Were you wanting that one?”

  Riley slowly looked back at her hand, still pressed up against this stranger’s. She quickly jerked it away. “No, no, um…you…you can have it.” She didn’t know why she was stammering. Usually she was very articulate.

  The woman laughed. “Are you sure? This is an excellent eggplant and I believe, you were here first.” She picked it up and made a big show of demonstrating its superb features.

  Riley couldn’t help but laugh. Someone who had a sense of humor on a Friday night at the grocery store—truly a rare find. “It is a nice eggplant.”

  “Then you should have it.” She pressed it into Riley’s hands before flashing another of those melting smiles.

  As she walked away, Riley glanced back over her shoulder. The woman was now pawing through the rest of the eggplants. This encounter was definitely a welcome change of pace. She would’ve been less surprised if a deranged shopper had hauled off and pelted her with an eggplant. Still, the woman was striking with her shoulder-length deep auburn hair and brilliant blue eyes. And did she mention tall? She had always considered herself tall at five-nine but this woman was at least six foot.

  With one last lingering glance, she turned back to her shopping. She grabbed a couple small yellow summer squash and a zucchini from the next row. But as she ticked the items off her mental list, she couldn’t quite push the eggplant encounter from her mind. She could just hear Susan too. “Hey girl, she was so flirting with you.” Susan liked to tease her by saying everyone was flirting with her whether they were or not, but as she had told Susan, she wasn’t good at pair bonding. She didn’t quite grasp all the social complexities that went into it, which was ironic since she was an anthropologist and social complexities should be second nature. Well, most were, she corrected herself—just not those that dealt with mating practices or more precisely, her mating practices.

  Still caught up in her thoughts, she reached for a package of Portobello mushrooms only to bump into another reaching hand.

  “We really have to stop meeting like this.”

  Riley quickly glanced over, meeting those deep blue eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  “You said that before.” The mysterious young woman laughed, the sound soft and clear. She then placed her hand on her hip. “Am I invisible or something?”

  Riley could feel herself starting to blush. But from the easy smirk on the woman’s face, she could tell she was only teasing. “I’m sorry, it’s not that. I was just lost in thought.”

  “Well, lost in thought or not, you certainly know how to choose the best veggies. Those Portobellos are exquisite.”

  Riley quickly yanked her hand back. She wasn’t used to this—a random conversation with a stranger, albeit a gorgeous stranger, in the middle of the produce department at the supermarket. She could handle a lecture in front of hundreds of students, debate theory with her colleagues or any other of the myriad of academic things she did every day, but this was different. She had no frame of reference for this.

  The woman now raised her right eyebrow. “Are you going to take that pack? Because if not, I’m going to.” Again the soft clear laugh.

  Riley shook her head. Why was she acting like such a dope? God, this woman must think she was a complete idiot by now. “No, no, that’s fine. You can have them.” What else could she say?

  This time she stood still in front of the mushrooms, her eyes glued on the other woman as she walked away. Halfway down the aisle, her new produce friend glanced back, that same languid smile on her lips, before she disappeared around the corner. Totally nonplussed, Riley turned back and grabbed a random package, dropping it into her basket without looking at it.

  Her mental grocery list was forgotten. She looked down into her basket, trying her best to recall what else she needed. Finally she gave a deep sigh, giving it up as a lost cause. Screw it—she needed wine.

  The great thing about this Meijer was its wine selection, phenomenal for a grocery store. As she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with a woman—the same woman.

  “Are you stalking me or something?”

  “Ah…ah…” Riley was trying to think of something quickly to say in her defense when she noticed a playful glint in her new friend’s eyes. “Seriously, I swear I’m not stalking you.”

  “Oh okay, I was just checking.” She giggled softly.

  Riley continued to stare, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away. She had heard of the chance meeting. Anthropologically speaking it was probably the most prevalent way of initiating a new pair bonding next to the mutual introduction, a.k.a. the blind dates favored by Susan and Caroline. She had never quite experienced anything like it.

  “So…” With a wide smile, the woman across from her drew the word out. “Are you going to pick out some wine or do you just make a habit of plowing into strangers?”

  Riley shook her head, breaking her trance. What was wrong with her anyway? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t talked to an unfamiliar woman before—granted, an exceedingly attractive unfamiliar woman. “Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t know where my head was at.”

  The woman giggled again, a soft, melodious sound. “That’s okay. I haven’t been plowed down by a beautiful woman in a long time.” She held out her hand. “I’m Lisa, by the way.”

  Riley took the outstretched hand in hers. “Yeah, I’m Riley. Sorry to keep bumping into you. My head has just been in the clouds today.”

  “That was pretty obvious.” Holding onto Riley’s hand, Lisa shook it firmly. “Don’t worry about it, you’ve actually made my day.”

  Riley had to admit that Lisa had made her day also, granted in a nervous, frustrated sort of way. She now shuffled her feet, glancing at the two bottles of wine in Lisa’s basket. “So…I see you already made your wine selection. What would you suggest?” Talk about a lame question, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Lisa didn’t seem to mind. She hoisted her basket up on her hip and lifted out one of the bottles. “Oh, I highly recommend the Tabor Hill demi-red—not too sweet, not too dry. I’ve got a dinner date with friends tomorrow I’m kind of dreading, so I figured I might as well have my favorite wine so the evening isn’t a total bust.”

  “I’ve got one of those too—a dreaded dinner date, I mean.”

  “In that case, get the demi-red.” Lisa then winked and leaned closer. “Trust me, you won’t go wrong.”

  “Thanks, I think I will.”

  They stood staring at each other, the moment drawing out, until Lisa blinked, the color rising in her cheeks. “Well, I’ve got to go. Good luck with tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  With another wink and a smile, Lisa disappeared around the corner, leaving Riley standing there open-mouthed. She didn’t really know what to make of the encounter. Things like that just didn’t happen to her. Too bad it wasn’t more like that with Susan and Caroline’s dinner dates. Maybe if they invited someone intriguing like that Lisa—and my had she been intriguing—then she wouldn’t be so averse to the possibility of pair bonding. But she couldn’t get that lucky, could she? She slipped two bottles of demi-red into her basket. As Lisa had said, she might as well have a good wine so the entire evening wasn’t a bust. She quickly grabbed a third bottle.

  * * *

  Lisa leaned back in her comfy Adirondack chair on her back deck, a fresh glass of wine in her hand and the first Michigan State football game of the season on the radio. It was the end of the first quarter and her beloved Spartans were already up by a touchdown against the Central Michigan University Chippewas. She had been looking forward to this game all week, which was probably why she was in such a good mood earlier at the grocery store. It was most unlike her but all day the MSU fight song had been playing
in her head so she was feeling uncharacteristically sociable. Plus, it made a great opportunity to try out the pledge she had made to Caroline—to be more upbeat and outgoing. It had been easier than she had thought. It certainly hadn’t hurt that the woman had definitely been intriguing in her absent-minded, head-in-the-clouds way. It had been a long time since she had met someone who had sparked her interest.

  On the radio, the Spartans had just intercepted. Lisa quickly sat up in the chair, her body taut with joy as she listened to the sportscaster. Her team was off to a great start to the season.

  The excitement of the sportscaster’s voice was infectious as the Spartans moved into scoring position again, but her thoughts kept returning to the woman from the grocery store. Riley had been her name. She liked how that sounded—Riley. With her long brunette braid and no-nonsense khakis, long and lean, the woman had been the picture of simplicity. Perhaps that was why the name Riley fit her so well—simple and to the point.

  Lisa lifted her wine glass to her lips as the Spartans scored again. The only thing that would make it sweeter was having someone to cheer with. That had been one of the things she liked most about Jessie: they were both fanatical Spartan fans. They even had season tickets, never missing a home game. She still got them even though she hadn’t been to a game since Jessie had died. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to go—not alone. Lisa sighed, thinking of Jessie. God, how she missed her. As if sensing her feelings, her giant Maine Coon cat jumped in her lap, purring and shoving his head against her chest.

  “Hey there, Breslin, come to listen to the game?”

  The response was even louder purring as she scratched him behind the ears. He had been Jessie’s cat, named after the Breslin Center where Lisa had played basketball in college. That had been Jessie’s joke—by naming him Breslin, Lisa would always feel at home. But as she thought of Jessie, her smile faded. In the last year not a day had gone by that she didn’t miss her with an ache that wouldn’t disperse. She continued to pet Breslin absently, her stomach sour and the game on the radio fading. Upbeat and outgoing? Yeah, right. Who was she trying to kid? How could she have been thinking of anyone else, not when she missed Jessie so much?

  * * *

  Riley woke in the dead of the night, gasping and clutching at her blankets. Her heart thundered. Another nightmare. Seemed like a night didn’t go by that she didn’t have one, running through a dark woods being chased, then falling, always falling. Ever since her girlfriend Deana mysteriously disappeared fifteen years ago she had been plagued with recurring dreams. It was probably her subconscious trying to deal with everything. What had really happened to Deana? Where had she gone? Who had taken her? If only she knew something maybe she could find some sort of closure.

  She threw on the lights and mopped the beads of sweat from her forehead. She let out a scream of frustration and kicked the blankets from her bed. If only she could sleep. Again, and again, and again. Nothing helped. Counseling was a joke. Medications only prevented her from waking during the nightmares. Even wine didn’t help. Nothing. She simply despaired.

  Chapter Two

  Riley sat in her pickup truck gripping the steering wheel tightly enough to turn her knuckles white. Why her friends insisted on these painfully awkward social events was beyond her. Why couldn’t they just accept the fact that she was a socially inept lost cause and be done with it? Then they could all move past it and have a pleasant afternoon.

  But it wasn’t really Susan and Caroline that were the problem—it was the women they hoped she might hit it off with. It usually ended in disaster. Riley shook her head. Hopefully, today would be better. She then glanced at the two bottles of wine in the passenger seat. Riley smiled, again picturing the goddess from the grocery store. Why couldn’t her friends introduce her to someone like that? She took a deep breath. Seriously, how bad could this be? Then she remembered the last woman she had met.

  “So anthropology, like that’s the study of ants or something, right?”

  At first she had thought she had been joking, but as she saw the earnestness on her face, she’d realized that she had been serious. After her initial surprise, Riley recovered quickly. There was only one thing she could possibly say to that so she leaned in, looked her straight in the eye and, with as much sincerity as she could muster, coolly said, “Why yes, yes it is.”

  Needless to say, the evening quickly went downhill from there. Susan covered her mouth and looked away, doing her best to stifle her amusement. Caroline just shielded her eyes, avoiding any eye contact.

  The woman, Riley couldn’t remember her name now, had clearly missed her sarcasm. “That’s so interesting. I’d bet it’s a lot of fun.”

  Riley couldn’t help herself. “Yeah, it is. You wouldn’t believe what we can get them to do. Why just the other day, we got this whole colony to march in formation to John Philip Sousa’s Washington Post. It was totally amazing.”

  It was at this point that the woman finally caught on. She stood and stormed from the room, Caroline at her heels. Susan just shook her head, trying not to laugh.

  Riley merely shrugged her shoulders. “Huh, that didn’t go well.”

  “You think? I swear Riley…”

  “What?”

  “You could’ve been a little nicer.”

  “I was being nice. I almost told her that we had learned that all this time, ants had also been studying us. It’s called humanology.”

  By now Susan was nearly rolling out of her seat. “Riley, Riley, Riley. What are we going to do with you?”

  Riley took one last deep breath and kicked open the door to her truck. Hopefully this would be better. It certainly couldn’t be much worse. She grabbed the wine and quickly headed up the path to the house.

  She was just about to knock when the door burst open and Susan pulled her into a welcoming hug.

  “Hey you made it.” Susan then stepped back, eyeing the two bottles in Riley’s hands. “Got enough wine?”

  “What? I wanted to be prepared.”

  “I guess.” Susan glanced at the label and began laughing. “What’s up with Tabor Hill demi-red? That’s what Caroline’s friend brought also.”

  “It came highly recommended.” Riley thought of the grocery store interlude, a shy smile lifting her lips. But she wasn’t going to tell Susan about it. She’d never hear the end of that. As nonchalantly as she could, she shrugged her shoulders.

  Susan shot a quick glance over her shoulder, the sound of laughter coming from in the house, before pulling Riley back out on the porch. She then leaned in and lowered her voice. “Caroline’s friend is here so please Riley please, as a huge personal favor to me, could you be a little less”—she waved her hand slowly up and down—“you know…”

  “A little less what?” Riley narrowed her eyes.

  Susan took a deep breath. “Well, a little less you, Riley. I know you love what you do but Caroline’s friend has been through some tough times so could you maybe not bring up the funerary rites of medieval France or the various stages of decomposition?”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll be on my best behavior.” Riley rolled her eyes, although she couldn’t help but grin. “And it was medieval Hungary.”

  Susan seemed to relax. “France, Hungary, whatever. Don’t share all the horrific details of your job. No one wants to hear about burnt bodies or putrefaction or any of the other horrors that pass through that lab of yours. It doesn’t make for good dinner conversation.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Almost. Just be nice.” She held the door open for Riley.

  Riley flashed Susan a wide smile as she passed. “Don’t worry, I’m always nice.” That is unless someone thought anthropology was about ants.

  * * *

  Lisa was relaxed, swirling her glass of wine while Caroline poured pasta into a pot of boiling water. The sweet, tangy aroma of fresh basil and oregano rising from the bubbling sauce mixed with the heady fragrance of garlic from the bread baking in the oven. Bright sunlig
ht streamed through the skylights, sending sparkles of light shining off the stainless steel appliances and the gold-flecked marble counter tops, which perfectly complemented the dark Hickory cabinets and floor. Lisa leaned back in her chair. Despite her initial reservations she was glad that she had come. She could use a relaxing afternoon with friends. As she sat there completely lost in her thoughts, she missed what Caroline had just said. “Huh?”

  “I was just saying you’ll have to excuse Susan’s friend Kate. She can be…how to put it nicely…” Caroline flashed Lisa a wry smile. “Well, she can just be…different.”

  Lisa began to laugh as Caroline struggled for words. “We are all different.”

  “Oh, there’s different and there’s different. You’ll see—Kate is definitely different.”

  “Seriously, Caroline, how bad can she be? You’re making her sound as if she’s a sociopath or something.”

  “No, nothing like that. Give me some credit!” Caroline wiped her hands on the kitchen towel before tossing it onto the counter. She took a deep breath. “Let’s just say she is lovely, but a little lacking in the people skills department. The last time she was here she sent my cousin storming from the house.”

  “Come on. You’re pulling my leg.” Lisa eyed Caroline suspiciously. It wouldn’t be the first time that her best friend had her going.

  “Not this time. I’m serious. We were having dinner when my cousin Meagan asked Kate about teaching anthropology.”

  “Anthropology—cool.”

  “You’d think so, right? What could go wrong with that? Except Meagan thinks anthropology is the study of ants.”

  Lisa burst out laughing as Caroline recounted the tale. Just hearing it had made the whole afternoon worth it. Besides, with someone with a sense of humor like this Kate, how bad could it possibly be?

  * * *

  Riley walked through the living room, engaged in the same debate that had raged all week long at college with Susan right at her heels. “… and as I was trying to tell them, maybe they need to make both Milton and Shakespeare requirements.”