Third Date

Home > Contemporary > Third Date > Page 2
Third Date Page 2

by Leah Holt


  “I know, it's just that I don't mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “You didn't, it's been years now, I'm okay... Really, I am.” Looking into her eyes, I smiled. “You guys don't need to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me. Yes, it still hurts not having Max here, but I'm not going to burst at the seams if you mention your husbands.”

  I felt sorry that my friends tried to tip toe around husband talk. At the beginning, yes, I was a tad fragile and did break into tears at the drop of a hat. But time had gone by, and now it was a lot easier for me talk about Max.

  Pursing her lips, Lynn said, “You know, it has been a long time, do you ever plan on getting back into the dating game?” Bringing a hand to my shoulder, she squeezed firmly.

  “Dating game?” My eyes crooked, brows folding up. “I wouldn't even know where to start.”

  Dating?

  What the hell would it be like to date?

  I had started dating my husband when I was eighteen. We married a year later before he went into the Army so I could be with him wherever he ended up being stationed.

  But the idea of going out and meeting another man... It made me uncomfortable. My husband had been gone for five years, and sometimes it still felt like it happened yesterday.

  There were so many times I would hear the phone ring and expect to find him on the other end. But no matter how strong that feeling was, or how right I felt that this time it would be him and I would wake up from this horrible nightmare, that moment never came.

  The days dragged on, his memory still strong and bold in the front of my mind, and my heart still holding onto the hope that he would come home.

  I couldn't even count how many times I wished on shooting stars, or let myself fall into the childish game of noting that the time was a consecutive row of one, two, three, four; I made wishes for his return on anything I could grasp that could grant them.

  And each time, I let the disappointment keep me in bed for hours, buried under the blankets, crying endless tears.

  Through the years, the tears had faded, still resting uncomfortably behind my lids, but well controlled.

  Fay was a lot older now, I didn't want her to see me that way. It was important for me that she knew what a strong man her father was, and that her mother was just as strong with what we went through.

  Maybe it was wrong for me try and hold back the tears, but laughing with Fay over stories seemed like a much better filter for the pain.

  Laughing with happy tears was therapy to me.

  “Mommy, Mommy, can we do the pinãta now?” Fay ran up the stairs, her face innocently covered in cake, distracting the entire conversation.

  Which I was grateful for. My friends always had good intentions, but that was not a discussion I really wanted to have. I knew they cared for me, knew they wanted the best for me; but could they really understand how I felt?

  No.

  Both of them were happily married, with big families, and husbands that had safe jobs. Jobs that required suits, jobs that required clocking in, clocking out, and going home safely at the end of the day.

  They didn't understand what it was like to not see their husband for months, to not know if he would make it home... To not have him come back to his family.

  I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

  “Fay, did you and your friends touch the cake?” Dipping down to her height, I brushed her bangs from her face.

  She looked so much like her father, and as much as it hurt to lose him, it made me happy to see a piece of him still alive.

  Max won, he called it.

  Fay really was a cute version of him.

  There was so much about her that reminded me of her father. Her laugh, her smile, the way she hated onions and tomatoes... Every inch of that man was ingrained in her; from the dimples resting in her cheeks, to the fluffy curls that cascaded down her back.

  But her eyes, they always tore at my heart the most. They were exactly the same as Max's; big, dark green, and sparkling with curiosity. “I didn't, the other kids did, but not me,” Fay said, shaking her head as she spoke.

  “Oh no? Are you sure?” My head fell to my shoulder, eyes veering up.

  “Yes, Mommy.” Biting her lip, her toe spun into a knot in the wood beneath her feet.

  “Fay, didn't we talk about lying, and how it was bad to lie?” Swiping my finger across her cheek, I brought it in front of her eyes covered in frosting.

  Her eyes darted to the deck, searching the planks. “Sorry, Mommy, it just looked so good.”

  “And was it good?”

  A huge smile spread across her face, her chin raising and lowering into her neck with exaggerated bounces. “It really was, it was delicious!”

  “Well, good.” Pulling her in, I kissed the top of her head. “Okay, go grab the sticks for the pinãta.” Ruffling her hair, she let out an excited squeal as she skipped off.

  Gina, leaned over the banister, grumbling to herself, before yelling. “Danny, drop that rock! How many times do I have to tell you, rocks are not toys!” Turning around, she ran a hand over her forehead. “That kid is going to be the death of me, I swear.”

  My lip curled playfully, sneering to the side. “Awe, come on Gina, don't you remember fun?” Looking at Lynn, I tossed her a teasing wink.

  “Real funny, Kinsley. But I don't plan on spending the night at the hospital...” Throwing back the rest of her beer, she wiped her lips. “Do you?”

  Laughing, I pressed myself against the railing. Watching the children gather around the pinãta, they all hopped in place like I spiked the punch with Redbull.

  I wish I could bottle their energy and sell it. I'd make millions.

  Lynn stepped up beside me and nudged my arm with her elbow. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” I asked, braiding my fingers together.

  Please don't ask again.

  “Dating, have you thought about it?”

  Twisting to look at her, I flicked my eyes to the sky. “To be honest... No.”

  “Maybe it's time. You don't need to spend the rest of your life alone.” Lynn nodded her head towards the kids. “Fay has a great life, Kin, but you deserve to be happy too.”

  “I am happy.”

  Lie, I lied to her. Here I am telling my daughter not to do something I just did.

  There was a hole in my heart, one I couldn't repair.

  I wasn't completely happy.

  But I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to find someone else, or if I could even get over the death of my husband. And that wouldn't be fair to another man.

  My life had been forever tainted by a horrible loss, and the idea of going out looking for someone to try and fill that void...

  I just couldn't swallow it.

  “When was the last time you got laid, huh?” Shrugging my shoulders, I twirled my thumbs around each other. “Really, how long ago was it?” she asked, watching my face for the true answer.

  I didn't want to tell her the truth, but she knew already. I think she just wanted me to say it out loud, as if the sound of my own voice would make me more aware of my current situation.

  Letting my chin fall into my chest, lips scrunching to the side, I finally let it slip. “A really long time. Before Max left to go over seas.”

  Gina squeezed herself closer to us, a low laugh hitting her tongue. “That's not happiness, Sweetheart, that's torture.”

  “Look, I appreciate the concern on how unused my vagina has been, but I don't think now is the time to start dating. I've got Fay, and I'm super busy with classes at the school.”

  “Kin, you teach kindergarten. I'm sure the workload is there, but it's not physics or something. It's colors and shapes, I think you could squeeze some time in there for a man.” Gina's frizzy red hair blew into her face, tangling around her lashes.

  Digging her fingers into her eyes, she brushed them away. “Look, there's never a perfect time after what you went through, but, Kin, I think it would do you some good.” Shoving an
elbow into my ribs, she said, “It'll at least loosen you up some, shit, I get cranky not having sex for more than a week, never mind years. You could use a little dick once in awhile, you know.”

  “Gina! There are kids around, language please.”

  “What? They're all down there beating the shit out of the...” Her head fell back hard, letting out a loud gut wrenching laugh as her voice trailed off.

  “What?” I barely asked as my eyes fell to the yard. “No! You guys, no! Drop the sticks!” Shoving off the railing, I made a dash for the stairs.

  To my disbelief, the kids were all surrounding Super Feather, the giant yellow bird I had hired to entertain the party. I hadn't even realized he arrived.

  When did he get here?

  The poor guy inside the suit had to be hot as hell from the temperature, and not only had to deal with kids tugging on the costume on a regular basis; but he unfortunately had to deal with our kids, who had forced him onto the ground in a fetal position.

  Reaching the grass, I stood in plain shock, frozen in place, unsure I was actually witnessing what the hell was happening.

  The children had gone from hitting the pinãta, to beating the crap out of the mascot for a cheap cartoon my daughter had loved.

  I said had, because she blessed me this morning with the new found fact that she thought Super Feather was for babies, and she didn't like him anymore.

  News I could have used weeks earlier before booking the guy.

  Gina and Lynn remained on the deck, laughing their asses off, and yelling at me that he was fine, and could get up if he really wanted to.

  While I frantically tried to tear every blunt object from the kid's grasps, yelling up to them. “You know, you guys could help! Most of these kids are yours!”

  The last thing I needed was a lawsuit from some shlub who dressed in faux feathers.

  His angry grunts were muffled by the giant head resting on his shoulders, but from the sounds escaping the plastic beak, he was pissed. Shoving the head off, he screamed. “Get these kids off me! I don't get paid to be a damn punching bag!”

  “Sir, I know, I'm so sorry.” Taking the sticks, I sternly told the kids to go sit at the picnic table. “I am really sorry, let me help you up.”

  Smacking my hands away, he barked. “Fuck this! I'm out of here, and no refunds, Lady!” His face was bright cherry, sweat beads streaking down his hot skin. “I'm going to warn the other characters about you.” His finger shot out, as he flipped me off, and stormed to his car.

  Gina and Lynn both released a loud, 'Ooooo,' wiggling their fingers in fake fear.

  Slapping a palm to my head, I dragged my fingers through my hair. “I'm really sorry, Sir!” Snapping my neck up, I glared at my friends.

  The two women both held their arms out, lifting their shoulders with giant shit eating grins filling their faces.

  “Really you guys?” I asked, hands cupping my hips. “Add fuel to the fire up his ass, why don't you?”

  “They're kids, Kin, shit happens.” Gina tilted her head, shoulders perching higher. “I'm sure that guy's been through worse, or does worse in that costume.” Grimacing with the thought, she made a loud gagging noise.

  “Gina! Come on!” I yelled.

  “Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Let us make it up to you.”

  “What, how?” Arching a brow, I was fairly certain I knew where she was going with that.

  “Tonight, we're having a girls night out. No excuses anymore, it's time.”

  Shit. I knew it.

  Some party.

  This would have been so much easier if my husband was here.

  But maybe the girls were right, maybe it was time to get myself out there. I could definitely use some me time. Especially after this.

  But dating?

  I didn't know if I was ready to open that door.

  How do you open your heart to someone else, when it's owned by another?

  I wasn't sure I ever could.

  Chapter Two

  Kinsley

  Grumbling to myself, I slammed the curler down onto the sink. Staring into the mirror, my fingers wrapped the edge of the cold porcelain.

  I hated my hair, it never did anything no matter how much I tried. Even with a curler, and enough hairspray to light up an entire building, it fell flat.

  It's probably a good idea for me stay away from any open flames tonight.

  Lifting the stiff ends, I let the sticky locks drop back down to my shoulders. My lip curled from beneath to blow the bangs from my eyes, as I readied myself to just give up.

  This will just have to do. I'm sure it's fine.

  “Kinsley, they're here!” My mom yelled from the livingroom.

  My mother, (who I loved dearly) had the filter of an old man waiting for death to grab him by the ankle.

  And lucky for me, she was watching Fay for the evening.

  It's not that she's really old, but she just doesn't give a shit about what she says. It's a pro and con in the game of having her babysit.

  She isn't afraid to tell Fay no, but she sure as hell tells her a lot more than a five year old's ears need to hear.

  The last time she watched her, Fay came home to tell me that the tooth fairy was an ideological creation made up by the dentist to up the sales of toothpaste. And she went on to say that if it was real, it would be a small, freakish creature that would hover over you at night to steal your own personal property.

  And yes, those were the exact words she used.

  “Alright, I won't be out late. I'm thinking eleven, maybe twelve the latest,” I said, adjusting my skirt.

  “You look like you're going out to buy smack, Kinsley. Are you trying to look like a street walker?”

  “Mom!”

  Fay glanced between us, wonder floating through her gaze. “What's smack? Can you bring me home some? Is it like that cereal in the commercial? I love cereal.”

  “No, Honey, smack is what the fluezies get after they get paid.” My mom ran a hand over her back, speaking as if the conversation was even remotely appropriate.

  “Mom, that's enough. Fay, Honey, do you have your book ready for Memeré to read later before bed?”

  “Oh, no, I'll go get it now.” Hopping up, she skipped off down the hall, with no more questions.

  Thank God, I don't want to explain what a fluezie is, or smack for that matter.

  My hands jerked to my hips, eyes slitting tight when she was out of ear shot. “Mom, you can't talk like that around her, she's too young for that.”

  “What?” Her back went straight, tugging the glasses down the bridge of her nose. “Kinsley, come on, you can't sugarcoat shit for children. That's why this world is filled with so much crap now, because parents are afraid to be honest.”

  “Look, just don't, okay. I'm asking you to respect my house and how I want to raise my daughter. I don't think that's too much to ask for.”

  “So now you want to revoke my right to freedom of speech?”

  “What? No, that's not what I'm saying at all.” Shutting my eyes, I inhaled a deep breath, pinching the sides of my nose. “Can you just please, for once, leave your opinionated rants at the door?”

  “Well it's not my fault you're dressed like a hooker looking for drugs. An outfit like that is going to bring a lot more attention than you want. Unless you're after dick, then the skirt is screaming just what you're going for. It's about time you got some, me and your father still try to get it on once a month or so.” Falling back into the cushion of my recliner, she tapped her chin.

  Eew! No, just no.

  “Mom, I'm— forget it— just have her in bed by eight, alright?”

  “That I can do, CSI comes on at eight, and I'll be damned if I'm going to miss it.”

  Fay popped back into the room, carrying her book against her chest. “Got it, Mommy. And I picked a good one for tonight.”

  “Perfect. You be good for Memeré, alright?” Nodding, she twisted in place. “I love you, I'll see you in the morn
ing.”

  “Love you too, Mommy.”

  Closing the door behind me, I exhaled a huge breath. I knew Fay was safe, and I trusted my mother with her. I just hated not knowing what words would form on my child's tongue the next time I saw her.

  But as my mother so kindly pointed out to me many, many times before; she raised me, and I turned out just fine.

  It'll just be damage control I'm doing tomorrow. And maybe a little reminding to Fay that her grandmother is getting old, and to not listen to everything she says.

  “Come on, Kin! We're going to be late!” Gina barked from the car window.

  “Late? Late for what?” I asked, pulling the rear door open.

  “We have a little surprise for you, something to help with your man issue.”

  “My what? I don't have a man issue,” I said with a nervous giggle.

  “Yes you do, and we have something that will fix that. Trust us, alright?”

  Oh no. What did they do?

  “What are you guys up to?”

  Lynn glanced over her shoulder, smiling with bright red lips. “We got you some help for your little fear of men. You can't die an old bitter woman, Kin, and this is going to help you.”

  Covering my eyes, I let my head fall back into the seat. “I hate you guys, you know that?”

  “No you don't, you love us.” Gina blew a kiss in my direction, laughing softly. “Just trust us.”

  “I don't have a guy issue. If the right man came along, then I'd try, but he hasn't yet.”

  “Kinsley, Max has been gone for half a decade, you need a companion. Fuck, even a friend with benefits at this point would do you some good. You can't live your entire life around people who can't even ride a roller coaster. You need adults, friends that aren't us, friends with big dicks, who can give you some stress release.” Gina's body twisted, her eyes that were normally blue, glistened a deep black in the dark car.

  “Gina, I'm not really that desperate.” Tucking my hands under my thighs, I said, “That's what they make vibrators for.”

  “Ha. Ha.” Her laugh was dry and sarcastic. “No. Those are good for a quick fix once in awhile, but you need real meat.”

  “That sounds gross.”

  “It sounds delicious, and you can bet your ass when I get home later, I'll be jumping Trey's cock.”

 

‹ Prev