So Different

by Robinson, Ruthie

  “Yes.”

  “How many in your party?”

  “Just me, and I am actually here to see Mariah. I heard I could find her here. Is she your sister?” Adam asked.

  “Yes. And how do you know her?”

  “I’m her dentist. My father is her dentist, actually. I’ve been filling in for my dad. She came in one day and I’ve seen her at the derby,” he said.

  “So you’re Mariah’s dentist,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “Dude,” Joshua said, chuckling, “you’re not really friends. Mariah is just a place to rest your dick before you search for the next fiancée, or at least that’s what I heard.” He was silent for a moment and then laughed. “But that’s just the big brother talking. Don’t listen to him. We both know that Mariah is a big girl and she can take care of herself, so I won’t tell you to take care. Just don’t hurt my little sister. I don’t need to do that, do I?”

  “Nope. Don’t think letting others run over her is her problem,” Adam said.

  “Does Mariah’s dentist have a name?”

  “Adam,” he replied.

  “Nice to make your acquaintance, Adam. I’m Mariah’s brother, Joshua,” he said, extending his hand, which Adam shook.

  “Follow me. Is there anyone behind you?”

  “No. Just me.”

  “Okay, then, come with me, ” he said, running his hand over the Braille seating chart in front of him. “Lucky you, Mariah is working tonight, so I’ll put you in her path. Sure you want to be there?”

  “I’m sure,” Adam said.

  Adam followed him as he made his way to the last table in the back of the room, a booth. He was surprised at the speed of Joshua’s movements.

  “Have a seat,” Joshua said, and listened as Adam pulled out his chair and sat.

  Adam was impressed, but kept those thoughts to himself.

  “Well, at least you’re not one of her projects,” Joshua said.

  “Projects?”

  “Mariah is big on causes—the handicapped, the hurt, taking care of me, those she teaches at the school. She would turn into my mother if I let her, but I’ve had enough of women looking to rescue me, to take care of the wounded,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his words. “You’re employed, so you’re most likely not a project. That’s good for you.” He waited a second and added, “Mariah doesn’t sleep with her projects, either, so I should have known.”

  “Where is she?” Adam asked, not quite up to discussing Mariah in this way.

  “She’s somewhere around here. I just hired someone new. She’s here to train them. Sit tight. She’ll be here any minute,” he replied. “And I’d better get back to work.” Adam watched him walk back to the counter.

  He saw her enter from the back, walk over to stand at the counter, before she strolled over to the register. She stood now talking to her brother. He knew when her brother had given her the news that he was here. Her head snapped around and her eyes met his.

  He waited for a few minutes before she made her way to his table, her pad in hand.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  “Beer?”

  “Do you care what kind, or is ‘beer’ your brand?” she said, and he laughed.

  “Heineken,” he said.

  “Be back in a second,” she said, turning around and walking away. He watched her move in her skirt, clunky boots, and t-shirt with Joshua’s Place printed across the front. She returned five minutes later and sat his beer on the table, transferring her weight to her left hip.

  “Would you like something to eat?” she asked, going for the-I’m-not-affected-by-you stance.

  “You’ve got how many jobs?” he asked, counting them off on his fingers. “Working with the blind, waiting tables, and you do derby?”

  “I used to do you, too,” she said, smiling her fake smile.

  He smiled back. He really had missed her and her smart mouth.

  “I’d like a hamburger and fries,” he said. “Do you have time to sit with me?”

  “Does it look like I have time to sit with you?” she said, watching as he looked around the room. It was mostly empty.

  “Hadn’t pegged you as a waitress,” he said, again shaking his head.

  “And what’s wrong with being a waitress?”

  “Nothing. I’m surprised, that’s all.”

  “I’m not surprised that you’re surprised,” she said.

  He looked at her and chuckled. “Order my food and come sit with me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You’re curious, even if you’re pretending that you’re not.”

  “Fine,” she said, and then walked away. He sat back and followed her progress as she walked through the door. She was a pretty woman. She had auburn hair today, the closest to a normal color he’d seen so far. Her nose stud sparkled, matching the sparkle in her eyes. He’d missed her.

  * * *

  She didn’t come back over until his food was ready about fifteen minutes later. He saw her coming toward him, plate in hand. She sat it down before him, looked around the restaurant, pulled out a chair, and sat.

  “Want something to drink?” he asked.

  “I’m working,” she said.

  “You are hard to find. You just up and disappeared.”

  “Why do you care? You’ve got that girl Taffy, or that other girl.”

  “Tiffany,” he said, chuckling, putting catsup on his fries. “She was just a date, nothing more. And what other girl?”

  “Oh, so you do date, it’s just me you don’t want to date.”

  “That’s not it at all,” he said before taking a bite of his burger.

  “Okay, what is it then?”

  “I want to date you,” he said.

  “So now you want to date me.”

  “I’d like for us to be friends, too,” he said.

  “Oh, and now you also want to be my friend,” she said, reaching for a fry, dipping it into the catsup.

  “Yes, I do, and it’s not all on me. You never asked for anything more,” he said, watching her lift one eyebrow, giving him a don’t-even-try-that look.

  “Saw you at the derby at the last game. You were sitting next to a young, dark-haired woman.”

  “Why didn’t you stop by and say hello? You weren’t hiding from me, were you?” he said, laughing at the expression she made. “It was my sister, and don’t try and change the subject. You didn’t ask for anything at first. Hell. I don’t even have your number. You’re the one that started coming to my place. I don’t recall you inviting me to yours. I don’t know if you even have a place. Do you have a place?” She rolled her eyes.

  “I only knew you worked here because of Casper. So who’s setting limits? I could like you. I do like you. I want to date you,” he said, smiling. “Honestly, we can do both. I like having you at my apartment, not that I can’t like you in other places,” he added, smiled again.

  “You’ve just gotten out of a relationship, and not a small one, but an about-to-be-married one, so I don’t think you’re in the market to get married.”

  “So you’re asking to marry me,” he said, laughter in his voice. “I just want to see you again. Why do we have to decide anything more? I like you. You like me. We are good in bed. I want to see you again, for a date. I like being around you, Mariah Scary, as scary as that is, but not if marriage is involved.”

  “I’m not looking to get married to you, either,” she said, taking another fry and looking around the room. “We’re too different, anyway.”

  “Yes, we are,” he said, “but you’re using it as an excuse, while I enjoy the differences.” He took another bite of his burger and chewed for a while, watching her. “So why are you being difficult? I thought you wanted me to date you. You’ve changed your mind?”

  “No,” she said, picking up another fry. “But I’ve been giving it some thought since then, and I find that we would be wasting our time.” She decided to voice her primary concern,
the one that she knew ultimately stood in the way of her meaning anything serious to him.

  “It’s a waste of time to be friends? We can’t be different and be friends? Since when? Unless there’s more to what you want.”

  “No, there’s nothing more. Remember I was the one that asked for friendship while you only wanted Tuesday and Thursdays,” she said and sat quietly for a while, thinking.

  “Well, as you can see, I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “It’s the reason why I’m here, why I’ve gone out of my way to find you.”

  “You’re this white, privileged, fall-into-the-family-business-so-I don’t-have-to-do anything-on-my-own, private school, upscale-bar-drinking, good-looking man whose women are polished, sleek, and well off. Am I off the mark?” she asked, deciding to try and explain without having to come out and say that she could want even more from him and was searching for a way to protect herself.

  “You don’t really know me,” he said.

  “I think I do.”

  He laughed at her perception of him. “People see what they want to see,” he said between chuckles. “Who are you then?”

  “I am a thrift-store-shopping, borderline cheap, paying-my-own-way, blue-collar, roller derby, kick-your-ass, local-dive-drinking, beat-up-old-car-driving woman.”

  It was quiet. He didn’t say a word, just looked at her like she was a specimen for his examination. “You’ve got your own assumptions.”

  “See? Better leave me alone.”

  “I could be different. Ever thought of that? You could be wrong about me.”

  “Don’t think so,” she said, feeling weird all of a sudden. “I mean your first thoughts when you saw my bruises were of some black girl letting her ass get kicked, remember?” she said defensively, not wanting to own her assumptions. Hers were reasonable, had truth and experience backing them.

  “It was not because you’re black. I would have done that to anyone with your bruises. I apologized. Let it go.”

  “Right,” she said. She was more than a little scared, searching for something sound to use to keep away from him. “We’re too different. Let’s just let it go at that,” she said, eating another French fry, and then another. He took a bite of his burger, now almost done with it.

  “We were suitably matched in the bedroom at my place. That’s a start,” he said a minute later.

  “We black girls are good in the bedroom. Everyone knows that. Is that what you’re trying to say? Hey, see you got that whole slept-with-a-black-girl thing out of your system.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You thought it.”

  “No, that wasn’t what I was trying to say at all. For someone who was offended by my perceived stereotypes, you’re holding a few of your own.”

  “We all do,” she said.

  “Yeah, but you’ve got an extra-large chip on yours,” he said.

  “Chip,” she said, her lip between her teeth, giving him that sizing-up look.

  “Chip,” he said. She shrugged.

  “Let’s start over. I’d like to see you again, Mariah. I would like for us to be more than bedmates. I’d like to be your friend, too,” he said, laughing. “See. I added that ‘too’. Don’t overlook that.”

  She sat silently, finishing off the last of his fries. She didn’t say a word or two for a second.

  “Rebound sex is all I am to you.”

  “What do you have to lose, then?”

  My heart, she thought.

  “I like you. Can’t that be enough?”

  “Maybe,” she replied.

  “Have you ever met my mother, my family, anyone besides my dad?”

  “No. Why?”

  “No reason. Go out with me again? What do you have to lose? It could be fun. Think about it—free meals, free drinks, great sex,” he said, quiet for a second, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He drank the last of his beer and sat back, giving her a speculative look. “You know what? You’re right. To be honest, I was interested in that whole black girl thing from the beginning, and I’ll admit, I’m fascinated by you. I didn’t think black girls did roller derby. I thought you all were only interested in dancing, rapping—you know, dropping like it’s hot, or however you say that, don’t all black girls do that? Hey, are you good at pole dancing?” He watched her swallow his words as her face did all kinds of tricks as she tried to hide her surprise at his remarks. But he had her now, Mrs. Pointer-Outer of Stereotypes.

  “Screw you,” she said, laughing now. He chuckled, too. “Okay. Fine, you think you want to date me?” she asked, her chin lifted in challenge. He smiled inwardly. His fiery Mariah was back. He could read all kinds of developments brewing in her mind, and, for once, boring and compliant was nowhere near where he wanted to be.

  “I do,” he said, his smile widening as he looked into her eyes. They were shining. She was something, he thought. “Okay. Now I’m not sure. That isn’t a very good look in your eyes,” he said, a smile still on his face.

  “You’re either very brave or very stupid, neither of which is good for me. But…” she said, her eyes moving away like she’d made some internal decision and then swinging back to him, “If you think you want me…let’s see. First date this Saturday night. I’ll pick you up at 8 p.m. And I’ll pick the place.”

  He looked up, again catching the challenge in her eyes.

  “Not scared yet, are you?” she said, the steely-eyed look from the roller track in her eyes as she stood up from her chair. She picked up his plate, napkin, and beer bottle.

  “No, not scared. What’s your number?” he asked, his own steel present in the look he returned.

  “You don’t need to know. I know where you live. I’ll pick you up.”

  “What if I need to cancel?”

  “Do you need to cancel?”

  “No, but something could come up.”

  “If I come by and if you’re not there, I’ll know something came up. Will that work?”

  “If you say so.”

  “I say so,” she said, smiling wickedly, a calculating look on her face.

  “Okay, I’m good, then,” he said, returning her wicked, calculating look with one of his own, not taking his eyes off of her. “I’ll be waiting, so don’t be late.” He pulled out a ten and a five, more than enough to cover a tip. He stood up beside her.

  “I won’t,” she said, walking away, swinging her hips from side to side. She looked over her shoulder and caught him watching and smiled her wicked smile. He laughed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Third week of July

  It was Saturday night and Adam sat on the couch, waiting. Mariah had said she’d pick him up at eight. He was actually looking forward to seeing her again. He missed her humor and found himself smiling at their most recent conversation. She thought he was a white guy, and he was, but it wasn’t all he was; just the side that people chose to see. Some that were more aware saw differently, but it was funny how people lump each other into categories.

  He’d dressed casually, not sure what to expect tonight, and she hadn’t said specifically. He heard a knock on the door and he went to answer it. He looked through the peephole; a woman stood on the other side of it. She wasn’t Mariah.

  He opened it, taking in this massive woman. She was the same height as Casper, dressed in jeans, sneakers, unlaced high-tops, a Lakers basketball jersey over a plain white t-shirt, hair buzzed cut short, large square-shaped diamonds in her ears.

  “Can I help you?” he asked. He’d seen her before. She was a teammate of Mariah’s.

  “Yep. I’m Good & Plenty,” she said, in a dude-sounding voice.

  “And it’s me, Lisa,” he heard as she stepped from behind Good & Plenty’s back, a dwarf in comparison, even in her heels.

  “You ready?” she asked, looking him over, checking out his attire and smiling. Her face cleared. He was glad he’d passed her test, whatever it had been.

  “Mariah said you were cute. This is the first I’ve seen you up close,�
�� Good & Plenty said, giving him the once-over, clearly interested. “You were always waiting near the door, so I couldn’t be sure. From a distance, you looked cute, but…” She shrugged.

  They both turned to see another woman, Sally, climbing his steps, with those tall heels on her feet and a tall attitude, too. She gave him a scowl.

  “We knew we shouldn’t have sent you two,” she said, having reached the top step, looking at Lisa.

  “We were coming,” Lisa said, looking at G&P. “We were just chatting.”

  “You’re not supposed to be chatting. You were supposed to come and get him.”

  “Excuse me,” he said, drawing their attention back to him.

  “Oh, sorry,” Lisa said, smiling as she turned to face him again. “Mariah is not coming tonight,” she said, watching his face change. “It’s okay,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Sally before she turned around. “She asked us to take you out instead. Are you okay with that?”

  “Who is us?” he asked.

  “The Brass Knuckles team, plus Casper and Delusional. You’ve seen us all before. You just haven’t gotten to know us. We’ve seen you, though, sitting in the back by the door waiting for Mariah to finish. It’s kind of sweet the way you wait for her. She told us that you want more from her, and we can certainly understand that. She’s a sweet girl underneath, and we love her, too.”

  “Get to the point, will you?” Sally said, sighing.

  “The point is that we are going to be your dates tonight.”

  “Dates? The whole team?” Adam said.

  “Yes, me,” Lisa said, turning to Sally, “you know Sally, and now Good & Plenty. I’ll introduce the others to you before we get going.”

  “Where are the others?” he asked.

  “Down there. In the parking lot,” she said and watched as he walked over to the rail and looked down into the parking lot. Yes there were women hovering around three cars. They waved up to him.

  He laughed, ran his hand through his hair. Mariah… a constant source of surprise.

  “You up for it?” Lisa asked.

  He laughed again. “Sure. Let me get my wallet, keys, lock up, and I’ll meet you all down at the car.”