Elusive Mr. Perfect

by Murray, Tamela Hancock

  Seventeen

  “I can’t believe how out of shape I am!” Joelle groaned as she stepped into the shower a few nights later. Every muscle in her legs felt tight from doing over a hundred walking lunges during class. Both arms were limp from a heavy-duty session of lifting free weights. Even five pounds felt like too much by the third set. Joelle shuddered at the memory.

  She had stopped by the high school gym on the way home from work. Fawn, an old classmate, had just become a certified aerobics instructor and was offering new classes. The previous week, Fawn had dropped by the doctor’s office where Joelle worked, class list in hand. She prodded Joelle to take a class. Joelle had agreed, wanting to help out an old acquaintance and feeling confident an hour-long class would prove effortless.

  After the first twenty minutes, Joelle had barely broken a sweat and her breathing wasn’t labored. As the class progressed, the exercises and dance moves increased in complexity and intensity. Forty minutes into the hour, she was huffing and puffing. The neck of her athletic shirt was drenched. Joelle’s glance fell on the clock every few seconds. She hoped the next twenty minutes would move fast. If they didn’t, Joelle was tempted to quit. Mercifully, after fifteen more minutes of agony, the class moved into the five-minute stretch and cool down. She hadn’t remembered a time in the recent past when she’d been so glad to see the end of an hour.

  Once in the shower, Joelle was grateful to feel streams of water pounding all over her body. As steam rose into her nostrils, her thoughts returned to Dean. At least the class had taken her mind off of him and why he still hadn’t called. She couldn’t recollect the last time four days had passed without them speaking to each other. Over the past week, Joelle realized for the first time how much she depended on his companionship, and how much she missed him when he wasn’t there.

  Sweat washed away by moisturizing soap and warm water, Joelle jumped out of the shower, toweled dry, and applied scented lotion. After retrieving her comfy, white terry cloth robe from the hook, she wrapped it around herself. Never mind that the weather outside was hot. In her air-conditioned bedroom she enjoyed the comfortable feeling of being safe and snug inside the cozy garment.

  Sitting at her vanity dresser, Joelle had just plugged in her hair dryer when the buzzing telephone demanded to be answered. She ran to the nightstand and picked up the receiver, hoping to hear a familiar baritone. “Hello?”

  “Joelle?”

  Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Dean! Where were you? I’ve been trying to get you all week.”

  “So I saw on my caller ID.”

  “Oh.” Joelle felt her cheeks flush. She’d forgotten he could tell the number of attempts a caller had made, even if the person didn’t leave a message. How many times had she tried to reach him during the past week? Chagrined, she didn’t even want to think about it. “I guess I thought if I tried enough times, I’d eventually get an answer.”

  “Apparently.” He chuckled, as though he were accommodating a precocious young girl rather than being cruel or teasing. “I was at the men’s prayer and fasting retreat, remember? I told you about it at least a month ago.”

  Groaning, she tapped her hand against her forehead. “Now I remember.”

  “So you were worried about me?” He sounded pleased.

  “Okay, I admit it. I would have been really concerned, except I got an away notice in response to my E-mail message. You better be glad I did. Otherwise, I might have called the police.” She tried to keep her tone light, but she was only half-joking.

  “I’m glad you didn’t resort to that. I’m sure the police have better things to do.”

  “I don’t know. There’s so little crime around here, they might like a little excitement.” Joelle plopped down on her bed. “The main thing is, you’re home now. So how was the retreat?”

  “Great. Men from all over the Mid-Atlantic region attended. I saw a couple of people from last year. Remember I told you about Brock? His wife had a baby.”

  “Good. You had said he was concerned about the pregnancy. I’m glad everything turned out all right.”

  “So am I.”

  Even though Joelle couldn’t have picked Brock out of a lineup of two men, the idea of a new life held genuine appeal. “So what was it?”

  “What was what?” Dean paused, presumably to think. “Oh, you mean the baby? I don’t know. Hopefully it was either a boy or a girl.” He let out a little laugh.

  “Oh, I get it. You couldn’t tell by the name, and you were too embarrassed to ask. What was it? Let me guess.” Joelle pursed her lips as she thought. “Morgan? Lee?”

  Dean hesitated. “Uh, I don’t know what they named it.”

  “You were with him the whole weekend, and you don’t even know if he had a boy or a girl, or what its name is, or anything?” Joelle’s mouth was hanging open. “How can that be possible?”

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “Men! They never find out anything.” Joelle grimaced even though Dean couldn’t see her mock disgust. Giving up hope, she changed the subject. “So have you been home long?”

  “Not too long. I would have called as soon as I got here, but I knew you were traveling in between work and home.”

  “Not to mention I stopped by the gym and took a new cardio class. Remember Fawn? She’s teaching them now.”

  “Fawn Fields?”

  “Fawn Johnson now. She got married to somebody from Maryland.”

  “She was in algebra with me, but other than that, I didn’t know her. But you and I must be on the same wavelength. I got back from my run a few minutes ago and took a quick shower before I called. I’m willing to bet we both have wet hair.” He chuckled.

  “You’d be right.” Joelle twisted a lock of dripping hair around her finger. “You’re a bundle of energy. I can’t imagine driving two hundred miles, then immediately going to the track.”

  “To tell the truth, I missed running. They didn’t budget any time for exercise, and I was ready to get my legs moving again.”

  “Even on an empty stomach?”

  “We broke the fast with a simple dinner, so I can’t really say I was starving when I left the retreat. I’d be lying if I didn’t confess that I stopped at the first fast-food place I saw and ordered a double cheeseburger and large bag of fries.” Joelle could imagine him grinning into the phone. “Fasting was definitely my least favorite part of the retreat.”

  “I don’t think I’d be enthusiastic about it, either,” she admitted.

  “So now you know what I’ve been up to. What about you? I know you must have had some reason for calling a hundred times. What did you want to talk about?”

  “Nothing. And everything.” She let out a sigh. “I have something to tell you. It’s about these guys I’ve been meeting through the personals.”

  “Oh.” His utterance was devoid of expression, and he didn’t elaborate. The silence was heavy with anticipation.

  Though Joelle had set out to tell him everything right then, suddenly spilling over the telephone didn’t feel right. “Dean,” she asked aloud, “can I come over?”

  “Umm—”

  “Oh, I know what it is. You want to dry your hair.” Her tone was teasing. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of lead time to get all gussied up. Even if it is just little ol’ me.”

  He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Uh, this isn’t exactly the best time.”

  “It’s not? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that—” he interrupted himself. “It’s just that, I promised I’d meet someone at the diner, that’s all.”

  Joelle felt her heart leap into her throat. Her stomach did a funny backflip. It wasn’t a nice backflip, the kind she got when she was about to open a long-anticipated gift, or even the daredevil feeling of fright just as the hydraulic safety latches tied her into the seat right before a roller coaster ride. Instead, the feeling was one of disappointment, unwelcome surprise, and—

  No. It couldn’t
be.

  Taking a mental breath, Joelle decided to keep her voice as light and coquettish as she could. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who your mysterious compadre is, are you?”

  He hesitated. She could visualize the wheels turning in his mind, debating whether or not to tell her. That wasn’t a good sign. If he had dinner plans with Zach or any of his other male friends, the name would have instantly zipped off of Dean’s lips. His meeting had to be with a female. Maybe a female who was more than a friend. . .or wanted to be more than a friend.

  Joelle became conscious that her heart was beating faster than usual. She didn’t speak. She waited for him to answer.

  “It’s Nicole.”

  Nicole. The very name she didn’t want to hear.

  “I see.” A familiar rush of feeling swept over her, the kind of feeling she used to have whenever Dustin had been out without her and wouldn’t tell her where, why, or with whom. She recognized that feeling.

  It was jealousy.

  “Just hope you enjoy your little visit.” If she didn’t end the call at once, Joelle knew she’d say something she’d later regret—probably for the rest of her life. She was just about to send him off with an abrupt farewell and hang up when he answered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was testy.

  “Nothing. I’m sorry. As soon as I said that, I regretted it.” A shocking realization came to her at that moment. One she did not embrace.

  “That’s okay, Joelle.”

  Dean was always so understanding. Too understanding, sometimes. Too willing to let her treat him like a favorite pair of blue jeans. Always reliable. Always dependable. Always the right fit. Always there. Always convenient.

  But it looked like all that was about to change.

  “Look, Dean,” she said, “you don’t owe me anything. You have your own life, and I understand that. I should have realized that long ago. You’re entitled to see whoever you want, whenever you want. It’s really none of my business. It’s not like I have a claim on you. I’m sorry.”

  “No problem. Thanks for the apology.”

  Joelle hung up the receiver slowly, letting it barely touch the cradle before gently releasing it to its proper place, covering up the number pad, each button made of a gray, rubbery substance. She ran her finger up and down the receiver, but she wasn’t thinking about the object. She was thinking of Dean. For a man who’d just gotten her to apologize, he hadn’t sounded happy. Not happy at all.

  “I was wondering where you were,” her mom called as Joelle passed the master bedroom some time later.

  Responding, Joelle detoured into the room. Eleanor was standing in front of the full-length mirror, spritzing her blond hair with spray. “I wanted to let you know, your dad and I are going out with the Martins for dinner. You’re on your own tonight, Kiddo.”

  Joelle let out a low whistle. “I could have guessed. That dress looks great on you, Mom.”

  Casting her gaze downward, Eleanor appraised herself, then twirled 360 degrees for Joelle to see. “You think?”

  “Sure do. Royal blue has always been your color.”

  “I hope so. We’re trying that French place Lloyd took you to. I know it’s pretty nice. The Martins said they wanted to treat us because I finally got up enough courage to take the GED test.” Her mother’s face took on a pink hue, a sure sign she was embarrassed to mention her accomplishment.

  Joelle remembered the party that was being planned to celebrate. She couldn’t let on, since she’d been sworn to secrecy. “You deserve to go out to a fancy place and much more.”

  “I don’t know.” She smiled shyly, reminding Joelle of how she looked in pictures taken decades before. “So how was the exercise class? Will you be going back?”

  “Probably.” Joelle grinned. “I always was a glutton for punishment.”

  Eleanor chuckled. “Oh, before I forget, you got some mail today. I have no idea why your father brought it in here. I just happened to see it, thankfully, or else we might not have paid the electric bill. He never bothers to sort it.” Shaking her head, she picked up a stack from a tray on top of their television and handed it to Joelle.

  “Thanks.” Absently, she riffled through catalogs, charge card offers, advertisements, and letters. Stopping at her bank statement, she opened it even though she had no intention of balancing her checkbook until after dinner.

  “Who was that on the phone?”

  “Dean.”

  “Oh, good. So where was he? I know you were wondering.”

  “The men’s retreat. I’d forgotten all about it.”

  “So had I,” said Eleanor, before launching into a story of a mishap that had occurred to her father and his friends on a golf retreat.

  Joelle wasn’t listening to her mother. She was too astounded by what her bank statement revealed. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Can’t believe what?” Eleanor interrupted herself. She placed her hands on her hips. “You weren’t listening to a thing I said, were you?”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t. It’s just that, well, you won’t believe this.” Joelle wasn’t sure she believed it herself. “Lloyd’s check bounced. His bank returned it because of insufficient funds. And if that’s not bad enough, our bank charged me twenty-five dollars.”

  “That’s awful, Joelle. That bad check didn’t cause you to overdraw your account, did it?”

  “No, though that’s no thanks to Lloyd.” She sighed. “I just can’t believe it. All this time, I thought he really was trying to make things up to me. I just ended up looking like a fool again. How stupid am I?” Her mouth drooped. “Don’t answer that.”

  Eleanor chuckled. “You’re not stupid. He fooled me, too.”

  Joelle grimaced. She had rubbed her “victory” in Dean’s face. He’d been right about Lloyd all along. “I guess I owe Dean another apology.”

  “You seem like you have a lot to talk to him about lately.” Eleanor’s eyes took on a knowing look. She seemed to be ready to make another comment but shut her mouth in a tight line, as though she thought better of it.

  “Have a good time tonight, Mom,” Joelle said. She hoped her voice showed the proper measure of enthusiasm.

  Exiting the bedroom, she retreated to the kitchen to scrounge around in the refrigerator for supper. Not that she looked forward to eating.

  All she could think about was Dean. And what he was doing with Nicole.

  Eighteen

  Joelle was nervous as she drove to the next town. Consisting of two large department stores and a few small retailers, the shopping area where she and Freedom had agreed to meet was hardly what could be called a regional mall, yet the variety of merchandise offered was enough to satisfy the basic needs of most people in the surrounding communities. The theater and food court provided places for teens to meet and greet, and for families to get away for a relatively inexpensive evening out. Although he had made no such promise, Joelle assumed Freedom planned for the two of them to take in a movie after a light supper.

  Finding a convenient parking place in the crowded lot wasn’t easy. The cinema ran four movies at once, so the lot tended to fill up and stay full. Since it was Friday night, Joelle didn’t bother to circle her car around the lot containing the closest spaces. The search would no doubt prove futile.

  Anticipating her presence at the Silver Screen Matinee within the hour, Joelle didn’t begrudge her fellow movie lovers their spaces. She didn’t even care what movies were showing. Joelle was content to watch any of them. Against her will, she remembered several occasions when she and Dean had shared an afternoon and a bag of popcorn as they watched flickering black-and-white images. She hoped Freedom liked old movies, too.

  Joelle pulled into a space in the far lot meant for an anchor store, making sure she parked underneath a light pole. Since darkness would be upon her by the time she left, she wanted to be sure her car was located in the safest place possible.

  Unsure as to how her dat
e would be dressed, Joelle opted for the same outfit that had taken her to the French restaurant—casual slacks and a blouse, with flat shoes she knew would be comfortable. Being able to wear the same outfit several times had proven the only advantage to a series of blind dates. One change was evident—she had styled her grown-out hair into a flip that managed to look updated while sparing her the messy look.

  As her steps took her closer to the entrance, she looked for Freedom. He had promised he’d be easy to spot. She wondered what he meant until she saw a tall, carrot-topped man in his twenties. He reminded her of Howdy Doody except that he was dressed in solid white. White shirt, white pants, white socks, white shoes. Since he was the most distinctive figure in the crowd, he had to be Freedom. She drew closer, still nervous.

  He made eye contact. “You must be Joelle.”

  “I am. But how could you tell?”

  He arched red eyebrows. “We just made a rhyme.” Freedom cleared his throat and lifted his hand, pointing his forefinger skyward as though he were a professor. “You must be Joelle. But how could you tell? Because you look like a belle/I’d like to know well.”

  Joelle laughed out loud at his corny humor. “I don’t think I’ve heard a poem that bad since kindergarten.”

  “What?” His tone was mocking. “Are you implying my poetry isn’t good enough for Public Television?”

  “It’s not even good enough for cable access. Sorry.” She chuckled, shaking her head all the while. “So how did you know it was me? What really tipped you off?”

  “You were scoping out the place like you were looking for somebody, so I took a guess.”

  “Well, you guessed right.” She smiled. Though he was dressed in a somewhat unorthodox fashion, Freedom seemed harmless enough. “So what are your plans?”

  “Hungry?”

  “As a matter of fact, I could use a bite to eat.” She hoped he’d suggest eating at the mall’s midpriced restaurant since it offered a bit of atmosphere and a degree of privacy in comparison to the open bay layout of the food court.