by Grace Risata
She was kind enough not to mention Future Priest, Grabby Hands, and Bad Blind Date numbers one through four. I guess they didn’t count because I didn’t come close to having sex with any of them. Winter and Monica liked to give all my ex-boyfriends nicknames. I had no idea why. They didn’t do it for themselves. Monica was married already and Winter had way too many guys to keep track of.
“Listen, Izzy, no matter what you do, you’re going to have to call my mom.”
“What? Why? What’s Rita going to tell me that you can’t? I’m not discussing sex with your mom!”
“Not sex. If you’re really going to let some random guy move in with you after knowing him for less than twenty-four hours, you’re going to have to run a background check on him. Get his driver’s license number and call my mom.” Winter’s mom was a lawyer. Rita insisted on running the criminal history of every single guy that any of her daughters dated. With three girls, one of them being Winter “I-can’t-be-tied-down-to-a-man-for-more-than-a-week” Alvarez, she had her work cut out for her.
“Could you please remind me how long you knew the drummer before you let him move in with you? Because I’m thinking that was about two hours,” I reminded her.
“Yes, and we broke up three days later so it doesn’t count,” she replied. “If you don’t call my mom, I’ll call her for you. I’ll also call Monica.”
“No, that’s not necessary,” I pleaded. Monica had a tendency to get on her moral high horse and lecture anyone who did something that she deemed a bad choice. I’m pretty sure that taking in a homeless stranger would be considered a bad choice. “I’ll call your mom as soon as I get his license. Which will be right now. Thanks for the pep talk, Winter.”
“No problem. See? I’m full of good ideas. You and Monica have to realize that I’m not as dumb as you think I am!”
“You’re not dumb, you’re just ditzy. Do I also have to remind you of the housewarming party that Monica and Trent had? Who was the person who walked in and asked about the bucket full of beer sitting in the cool-looking slushy ice?”
“And Trent had to answer, ‘It’s not slushy ice, Winter, it’s called SNOW. Have you ever heard of that?’ and I wanted to punch him in the face. Trent is such a douche-nozzle. I don’t know why Monica married him.”
“No one does. Now let me go try and get a license and not make any more of an ass of myself.”
“Good luck with that!” Winter replied and I hung up the phone. I really did not want to go back in the kitchen.
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Thankfully Dane was stuck under my kitchen sink with only his legs sticking out so I didn’t have to look him in the face.
I sat down in front of the cabinet next to him and said, “So…I’m really sorry about my whole episode back there. I know I should have been more sympathetic to the fact that you have no parents and I at least had mine until I was sixteen….” Am I supposed to say that he had no parents? Is that cold and cruel? I was only making this worse! “Anyway, I seem to have lost any hope of behaving like a rational adult. I’m not a bad person.” I was rambling and getting worse by the second. I’d better just end this now. “So can I see your driver’s license then? I just need to run a background check before I let you stay here. Thanks!” That couldn’t have gone any worse. Way to go, Izzy!
Dane scooted out from under the sink and looked at me. “Are you really carding me, right now?” he asked.
“Um….yeah? And I just want to let you know that I’m here to listen if you want to talk about your struggles when you were growing up or anything. Because I’m not heartless.” I’m just a complete dork.
Dane pulled he wallet out of his pants pocket. He handed me the license and said, “You have thirty seconds to write down what you need and then I want this back. If you ever ask me about anything having to do with my life when I was younger, I will walk out of this house and never come back. That is not something we discuss. Is that understood?” He didn’t say it rudely, but he was very firm.
I nodded my head, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote down his address, birthday, and driver’s license number.
“What are you going to do with that information?” he asked.
“Winter’s mom is a lawyer who runs background checks all the time.” I hesitated and added, “Will she find anything?”
“Depends how far back she goes. I got caught stealing a bottle of Johnnie Walker when I was fifteen. That’s the only thing on my record.”
I made a face at the whisky reference. “Gross. You drank that crap?”
“No, your highness, I got busted before I got that far. It’s high-end whisky. How is that gross? What do you drink? Dom Perignon?”
“Nope. A nice bottle of Budweiser. I’m a cheap date!”
Dane laughed at my beverage of choice and it broke the ice a little bit. I gave him back his license and he continued to fix the garbage disposal. A quick call to Rita showed that Dane was telling the truth about his background, which was a giant relief. Ok, the call wasn’t quick because Rita gave me one heck of a lecture about letting Dane stay with me. She treats me like her fourth daughter and she was none too happy to hear the story.
As the afternoon dragged on and the snow continued to fall, Dane decided to make one more pass at the driveway with my snow blower. Kitty and I went out for a little while, but it was starting to blow and drift and get nasty, so we came in where it was warm. I was sitting on the couch watching a show I DVR’d when Dane came in to dry off and take a break.
“You’re on my bed,” he said, “Scoot over.” I didn’t know he now owned the couch that he slept in for one night, but ok. I scooted over and he plopped down next to me. Very close. Kitty had to come over and sit IN his lap. I guess I knew who she liked better.
“Do you think your neighbor wants me to shovel her driveway, too? I caught her peeking out her front window and staring at me while I was out there. Every time I made eye contact, she shut the curtain only to open it again a few minutes later. Finally I just waved at her and then she never opened it again.”
“NO! Please tell me you did NOT wave to Mrs. Henderson!” I groaned. That was the last thing I needed.
“Yeah, why? What’s wrong with that?” Dane asked.
“She’s the nosy neighbor from hell and she hates me. Now she’s going to think I’m a skank once she sees you coming and going and she realizes you’re here all the time.” This was bad. Really bad.
“Why does she hate you? Did you try to drive her into oncoming traffic or have a screaming crying fit when she was trying to be nice to you?” Dane asked with a wicked smile.
“Number one, that’s not funny,” I said, even though it was, “and number two, she hates me because she set me up on a date with her nephew and it went very, very badly.”
“Lucky for you, I have time to hear the story since it doesn’t look like I’m getting up anytime soon. This sixty pound dog appears to have made herself very comfortable in my lap.” He wasn’t exaggerating. Kitty had curled up and let out a big sigh as Dane stroked her fur.
“Do you promise not to laugh at me if I tell the story?” I already shamed myself pretty badly today and I didn’t want to make it even worse.
“No. I try to avoid making promises unless I know I’ll be able to keep them,” Dane replied with a completely serious look on his face.
I did not like his answer, but I told the story anyway. “The lady who lives next door is Harriet Henderson. We got along fine until about six months ago. She always tried to ask fifty questions and stick her nose in my business, but I just passed it off as her being lonely and wanting someone to talk to. Her husband passed away a long time ago and she doesn’t have any kids. So I talked to her out of neighborly kindness. I made the mistake of telling her that I was single and she took it upon herself to set me up with her nephew, Herman.”
“Wait a minute,” Dane interrupted, “Are you kidding
me? Herman Henderson? You went out with a guy named Herman Henderson? That’s priceless!” Dane was already laughing and I hadn’t even started the story of the date yet. This was going great.
“It gets a whole lot better. I had no legitimate reason to give Harriet as to why I couldn’t go out with her nephew. So I finally caved in to get her off my back. Herman was supposed to pick me up to take me out to dinner, but he was twenty minutes late and I was fuming. I wasn’t the one who wanted this in the first place, and now I had to wait for some dork named Herman who couldn’t even tell time? He showed up to my door and shook my hand. It was all sweaty and clammy and I wiped it off on my jeans as soon as he wasn’t looking. Needless to say, he did not make a good first impression.”
“What did he look like?” Dane asked. “I’m picturing some nerd with a pocket protector and glasses.”
“He had short curly brown hair, wire rimmed glasses, and plenty of acne on his face. He had the start of a mustache, but it looked like facial hair was a new thing for him to be dealing with and it was very thin. He had a chubby baby face, but he was only a year younger than I am. Let’s just say he wasn’t doing anything for me, ok?”
“What does do it for you, your highness? Let me guess. You go for a corporate type. A nice clean-cut guy in a suit. Yeah, I bet that’s it,” Dane speculated. He was dead wrong. I was a sucker for a bad boy, such as the one sitting right next me less than a foot away. Had I ever had a bad boy? Nope, not even close. But that was the type that always caught my eye.
I shook my head and said, “Doesn’t matter what my type is, it wasn’t Herman. But I gave him the benefit of the doubt that he might be a really nice guy. You’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover. So we walked out to Herman’s car and he didn’t open the door for me. This isn’t a deal breaker, but it sure would have been polite. During the entire drive to the restaurant, he talked non-stop about himself. This continued all through the meal. I only ordered a salad because I didn’t want him to expect anything in return for buying me an expensive meal. It turns out that worry was all for nothing because he was kind enough to do the math in his head and split the check right down the middle even though my salad was eight dollars and his chicken tetrazzini was seventeen.”
“You remember how much his food cost? Wasn’t this date six months ago?” Dane wondered aloud.
“Yes, I’m glad that you’re paying attention. I have a bad habit of being petty and that’s why I remembered how much the food cost. It gets worse, can I continue?” I was really good at telling stories and Dane’s constant interruptions were throwing off my game. He nodded his head and I went on.
“Through the whole meal, Herman entertained me with stories of his job as a tax accountant for a big firm in Bridgeport. Who he works with, what he does on a daily basis, and on and on. He never once asked me anything about myself. I was pretty sure he didn’t even know my last name.”
“What is your last name? I don’t know it either. You know I’m Dane Murphy, but I have no clue who you are. Enlighten me,” Dane directed, interrupting me yet again.
“My last name is Kowalski. My dad is Polish. Well, he WAS Polish. I guess he still is,” I mumbled.
Dane stuck out his hand and said, “Nice to meet you, Izzy Kowalski,” and he gave me a giant smile. I automatically took his hand to shake it, because that’s what you do when someone offers their hand. It was amazing. His hand was decidedly NOT clammy, sweaty, or gross in any way. His hand was warm and comforting. He had a firm grip. The handshake was over all too soon. I wanted his hand to touch me in other places.
“Go on with your story, then. What happened next?” he asked, as if there hadn’t just been a spark of extreme mutual attraction that had passed between us like a lightning bolt of sexuality sent straight from Zeus himself. Or maybe I was the only one who noticed that. Oops.
“Um…where was I?” I might have gotten distracted there for a second.
“Herman is a loser who doesn’t know your name.”
“Yeah, yeah. Herman monopolized the conversation and then, mercifully, the meal was over and he drove me home. Once we got to my house, he leaned over and took my hand in his. I was sincerely hoping he didn’t expect a goodnight kiss, because that was NOT going to happen. He told me that he enjoyed himself on our date, but there was something important he would like to discuss with me. Herman explained that he liked me and he could really see a future for us, but I had to make a few changes first. I was dying to know what he would say next, so I asked what changes he meant. Herman told me that I would need to cut my hair, my choice of clothing lacked refinement, my car was the wrong brand, and he wasn’t very keen on the name “Izzy” either. I asked if there was anything else he wasn’t fond of, and he said that only one more thing needed improvement. He told me I would be getting a breast enhancement, but not to worry because he would pay for half the surgery to bump me to a solid D cup.”
Dane erupted in laughter, but I continued, “I then asked Herman what he would change about himself, since he expected me to undergo this drastic transformation. He seemed completely taken aback and said, ‘I’m not changing anything, I’m perfect,’ to which I replied, ‘yeah, you’re perfectly stupid’ and I jumped out of the car and never looked back. The end,” I finished.
After Dane stopped braying like a donkey, he commented, “Thank you, Izzy. That was the best laugh I’ve had in weeks. This whole running-from-the-bad-guys has taken a lot out of me, but I really like it here. You’re endlessly amusing.”
I gave him a dirty look, but he ignored it entirely as he was busy blatantly scrutinizing my chest.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“I was just wondering what the hell Herman’s problem is. Nothing’s wrong with your chest. You’ve got a nice rack,” he said.
“Gee thanks. Maybe you can call Herman and tell him that?”
We both burst out laughing and then stared at each other. It was kind of uncomfortable because he just complimented me on my boobs and I didn’t know where to go from there. I was desperately trying to come up with something flirty to say, when Dane broke the silence.
“I stink.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind that you just commented on my boobs,” I said, trying to not make a big deal out of it.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean I stink. Literally. I have one shirt and a pair of jeans that I’ve been wearing for a week. I need to get something fresh to wear. But it’s nice that you don’t care about me mentioning your chest,” Dane said and winked at me.
I ignored the wink and asked, “Do you want to go shopping for new clothes? We could hit the grocery store, too. I’m running out of food.”
He got a strange look on his face and reminded me, “I don’t have enough money, Izzy. I can’t buy new clothes.”
“How much do you have? What are we working with?” I could do a lot with a little. That’s the story of my life.
“I have forty bucks. It has to last me until I get paid from the job that I haven’t even started yet. At least payday at SMB is every Thursday. So I should get my first check in a week and a half. I have forty bucks to last me til then. Fan-fucking-tastic.”
“You can NOT wear the same dirty clothes for that long. That’s gross. I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”
“I won’t fit into your underwear,” he said.
“Don’t worry stud, you’re not going anywhere near my panties. Let me make a quick phone call.”
I got up and called Monica in another room so Dane couldn’t hear.
“Monica, it’s Izzy. Is your brother’s store open today?”
“Yeah, he never closes it. He’s a workaholic as bad as I am. Why? What’s up?”
“Can you meet me there in twenty minutes?” I asked her.
“Not if you don’t tell me why. You’ve been in his store three times in ten years. What’s the urgency all of a sudden?” Monica was too smart for her own goo
d and she always knew when something sketchy was going on.
“There’s someone who’s down on his luck who needs help. Just do me this favor and I’ll owe you one,” I begged.
“Fine. Be there in twenty minutes and be ready to explain what all this is about,” she replied.
“Thanks, Monica. Keep an open mind, will you?” This was not going to be fun nor easy.
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I let Dane drive downtown to Caldwell’s Fine Menswear, since the roads were still slippery. The snow was barely coming down now and the weather people changed their prediction to have the blizzard ending tonight instead of continuing all day tomorrow, too. They estimated that we got about eighteen inches of snow in twenty-four hours. It was insane!
“So where are we going?” he asked. “I have no way to pay for anything.”
“My friend Monica has an older brother who owns a clothing store. It’s very high-end merchandise. I assume you don’t want to buy clothes, but I assume you also want to have something to wear. Correct?”
“Yes. If I get clothes without paying for them, isn’t that theft?”
“I assume you also don’t want to have to owe anyone for these clothes, correct?”
“Get to the point, Izzy.”
“Murray, Monica’s brother, is a really nice guy and he always has a collection bin for used clothes for the thrift store in town. I think he gives customers a discount if they bring in their old clothes. Once a month when the bin gets full, he takes it to the thrift store. Since he gives clothes to the needy and you’re in need….I’m cutting out the middle man. He must have something that would fit you. Do you mind wearing someone’s used clothes? I’m not trying to embarrass you, I’m just trying to help.”
“I understand,” Dane said and nodded his head. “I’m in no position to turn down anything right now.”
We arrived at the store and had no problem finding a place to park. There were few people crazy enough to be shopping in this weather. Monica arrived at the same time and parked her shiny black Lexus SUV right behind us. I told her nothing about Dane, so this should be interesting. I didn’t know how much I wanted to let her in on. A lecture would be imminent if she knew the truth.