With our heads still inches apart and an ear to ear smile crossing my face, I leaned in and whispered to him, “Anything’s possible I guess. I mean, this was better than a night at home doing laundry at least,” I replied, kissing him on the cheek and letting my lips linger for a second.
He stood there, grinning back at me for a second, before responding, “You know, I knew you were trouble from the first moment I spotted you hurtling towards me in my rear-view mirror. But maybe I need a bit more trouble in my life.”
Wow, there is nothing better than smiling at someone from the inside out. I had almost forgotten what that feels like. My cheeks were going to hurt tomorrow but this has got to be the best sort of pain in the world.
As we stood there with our eyes locked on each other, Jonathan took me in his arms and, as he swayed gently with me, he started to sing a nameless tune to me, his voice deep, yet soft:
"You took me by surprise,
And at first it seemed unwise,
But from the first time that I stared into your eyes,
I knew that I was never going to want to say good bye,
And though I’ve been taught to sue,
I just can’t seem to get enough of you."
Laughing out loud at the last couple of lines, I pulled him in to me and shut his lips with mine before he could come up with another verse.
After Jonathan drove me home, he gallantly kissed my hand after walking me to the door. It might have been a bit cheesy but, after the rest of the night, I thought it was pretty cute.
As I headed up the elevator, I leaned back in a state of blissful contentment and put my hands in my pockets to warm them up.
Feeling something poking into my hand in, I fished around and pulled out a folded note:
“I was pretty sure I was going to have a great time tonight so I thought I should thank you for a wonderful night and for letting me enjoy your company again. Bonne nuit, ma belle. Jonathan”
Hmm, this sort of treatment might take a little getting used to, but that’s probably not a bad thing…
Whenever I feel the need to exercise, I lie down until it goes away – Robert Maynard Hutchins
15. Early the next morning, I was greatly appreciating my first erotic dream to ever co-star legal counsel when I was harshly awakened by the grating vibrations of my phone rattling around on my nightstand.
How is it that every time I forget to switch that bloody device to silent, someone decides that it’s a good idea to call at 8 am on the weekend?
Without even needing to glance at my caller ID, I reached over and groggily moaned into the phone, “Hey mum, how’re you today? You know that it is 8 am on a Saturday morning, right?”
My mum is a lovely, well-intentioned, woman who likes to keep close tabs on the goings-on in my life. A slightly problematic habit which had only escalated in both intensity and frequency since my older brother, Rob, had fled to Dubai with his wife, Haley, a couple of years ago.
Rob is a petroleum engineer and he had claimed at the time that the money was too good to pass up. Given the lifestyle he’s living over there, I’m guessing his claim was probably true, but I had a sneaking suspicion that the chance to relocate to a time zone 11 hours ahead of the rest of the family might have added to the allure of the destination.
If Haley ever gets pregnant, I’ve considered getting my revenge by subtly suggesting to my mum that she and my dad should take a sabbatical for a year and go over there to help them out.
“Good morning sunshine. It’s such a beautiful day out here. I thought that you would want to be up and out doing something?”
I love my mum but she and my dad are rarely awake past 10:00 p.m. and she’s up faithfully every morning at 6 a.m. to walk their dog, Elvis.
The concept of a late night followed by the exquisite bliss that comes from sleeping in the next morning appeared to be one that was completely foreign to her.
“No mum, I was out last night so I was just catching up on some sleep. I don’t have any plans for today that can’t wait for a few hours,” I replied, doing my best to stay awake and to sound at least mildly coherent.
“Oh, were you doing anything fun last night?” my mum queried, innocently.
My mum and dad had been together for 35 years and, even though I know she has a secret stash of harlequin novels squirrelled away, I had always felt compelled to avoid sharing any of the more vibrant details of my nocturnal activities with her. One question would inevitably lead to another and I’m pretty sure that dating was a bit different for my parents back in the 70’s. Also, while I'm close to my mum, there are some things I would rather leave to her imagination.
However, in this case I was happy to make an exception to my rule.
“Well, you know how I told you I was in a bit of a fender bender earlier this week that day we had that huge dump of snow? The guy I ran into ended up being really nice about the whole situation. He offered to pay for his repairs himself so I didn't have to chat with ICBC again and he ended up taking me out for dinner last night.”
“Wow, you’re a lucky girl. He sounds like quite a catch. Did the two of you hit it off?” my mum asked, inquisitively.
Interesting question as it certainly had felt like we did.
While dating conventions might suggest that I wouldn’t hear from Jonathan for a few days, he hadn’t exactly been a slave to protocol so far and I was mildly disappointed that there hadn’t been a text or anything waiting on my phone this morning.
“Dinner was really nice,” I responded, noncommittally. "The only issue is that he's a few years younger than me."
“Take it from me Anna, a little youthful exuberance is not necessarily a bad thing. Get them too old and it's too much work to train them. Just make sure that he's not so young that you’re constantly having to swat him away,” my mum replied, chuckling.
“Mum!” I retorted, groaning into the phone. “It's a bit early in the morning for the visual. What are you up to today?” I asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Well, everyone keeps telling me that yoga is an excellent way to stay in shape, so I was thinking about trying a class at the rec centre this afternoon. I can walk down the hill on the way there but your dad is playing golf and my car is in the shop so I’m not sure how I would get home?”
My mum is in relatively good health for someone her age but she’s been trying to drop 10 pounds for about as long as I can remember. She’s never found a fad diet that she wasn’t ready to whole heartedly embrace for a day or two, but unfortunately, cutting back on the chocolate that she hides in her nightstand or exercising regularly have never really entered the picture as options for her.
“Couldn’t you just walk back afterwards?” I replied, stating the obvious and already dreading her response.
“Anna, it’s straight up-hill!” my mum moaned plaintively. “It would be so much work!”
Trying desperately not to laugh over the phone, I gently replied “Well, yoga is supposed to give you energy. Maybe the walk won’t be so bad?”
The rec centre is barely three blocks from my parents’ house but I’ve learnt from experience that pointing out this sort of thing to her was never looked upon favourably.
“I didn’t know that trying to be a bit healthier was going to require so much effort!” she exclaimed, clearly too bothered by the thought of having to trek back up the hill to notice the irony in her comment.
“Well, I’ll let you know how things go. Have a great day dear.”
“Ok mum. You too; I hope you have fun.” I replied, needing to get off the line as tears had started to run down my cheeks and I was already shaking with barely contained laughter.
Always nice when your parents can put a smile on your face to start the day.
My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She’s ninety-seven now and we don’t know where the hell she is – Ellen DeGeneres
16. Later that day, after having fallen back asleep
for several more blissful hours, I reluctantly rejoined the land of the living.
Elyse had previously persuaded me to join her and some of her friends later that night for a girls’ nigh at a new club that had just opened a few weeks earlier, and I planned on easing myself gently into the day up until then.
When I finally ventured forth from my room, it quickly became apparent that Sam had dropped by at some point last night with flowers.
Elyse refusing to talk about it but, judging by the pile of white petals I’d found by the door, it looked like the gesture had only exacerbated Elyse’s foul mood.
I couldn’t help thinking that Sam was lucky he’d brought something that wasn’t going to hurt when it had inevitably been chucked back at him.
Although I hadn’t gotten any details on what exactly had been said, I had a feeling that it wouldn’t take too many drinks tonight before it all came out, so I reigned in my curiosity for now.
Elyse left the condo early to get her nails done and I decided to relax in the friendly confines of my bed a bit longer, knowing it would likely be a late night.
No sooner did my head hit the pillow when my phone went off yet again.
“Hey pumpkin, how’re you?” my dad’s voice came booming through my phone, sounding almost obnoxiously chipper.
“Hey dad, I’m great, I’m just getting ready for a girls’ night out with Elyse and some of our friends. Did mum manage to get home okay after yoga?” I replied, wondering if my mum had either dislocated something during her class or attempted to hitch a ride back up the hill and disappeared.
“Well, funny you should ask. She made it home just fine, but there was a little incident during the class,” my dad replied, cautiously.
“Oh no! Do I even want to ask what she did?” I replied, relieved that she had at least made it home in one piece.
“Well, apparently the class she took was for restorative yoga, which I understand is supposed to promote relaxation? I guess your mum took that to heart a bit more than you’re supposed to though because I was told that she fell asleep about half way through the class and she starting snoring like a buzz saw which was most likely disrupting the ability of everyone else in the class to achieve a more relaxed state,” my dad said, tongue firmly in cheek.
“Oh no! She must have been mortified!” I exclaimed, pitying everyone who had gotten a dose of what my brother and I had regularly been exposed to on our family camping trips growing up.
“She was a bit sheepish about the whole incident when she got home, but on the bright side, she decided to give the hill a try on the way home. I didn’t have the heart to ask if it was because her class had been so relaxing,” my dad replied, chuckling.
“But I know she’s a bit embarrassed by it and you know as well as anyone that she’s never been the best about sticking with this sort of thing so I wanted to give you a heads-up so that you can maybe give her a bit of encouragement the next time you talk to her,” he continued.
“Of course dad,” I replied, “it would be so great if she kept going and got a bit more active. I appreciate the heads-up though. I’m not sure I could have heard that story from her and not cracked up on the phone.”
“Your mum is something else sometimes, no question about it, but I wouldn’t change a thing about her,” my dad replied.
That right there was the best thing about my parents and what kept me dating through the good, the bad, and the balding.
My parents were two of the quirkiest people I know but at the end of the day, I knew that they would each do anything for the other person.
It was nice knowing that that sort of relationship was out there, even if my search so far had taken more effort than snagging a Michael Kors purse at a Boxing Day sale, and had caused me more misery than Ben and Jerry could have contemplated when they came up with Chocolate Therapy.
Speaking of which, am I the only one that thinks that that name is just a bit too on-the-nose for an ice cream flavour?
“But I should let you go pumpkin. I promised your mum I’d take her for Indian food after her ordeal today and it sounds like she’s ready to go. Hope you have a great night and chat soon.”
“Okay dad, you too, have fun,” I replied.
As I hung up, I spotted a new text from Elyse. “Nails are done. Need to find a man to carve up. Get moving!”
Well, duty calls. Let the night begin!
The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there – L.P. Hartley
17. I eventually made my way down to the club around 10 p.m. before discretely bypassing a line that was now encircling the block. Thankfully Tony, the mammoth hulk of a man currently guarding the door, had taken an interest in my well-being ever since Elyse had introduced us at a previous establishment that they had both worked at years ago.
It was always nice to see a familiar face, especially when said face also had the power to magically part lines in front of you.
After I made my way inside, I did a quick loop around the club. Elyse may be tiny but she invariably found a way to stick out in any crowd.
As per usual, she had drawn an audience, but I was able to spot her and a couple of our friends, Sonya and May Ann, surrounded by a pack of well-built guys; their table already littered with empty shot glasses.
Elyse is a pixie and Sonya and May Ann, Filipino and Thai respectively, were no bigger.
Surrounded by a wall of well-muscled men, they could almost have been mistaken for a stunning collection of porcelain dolls on display under the lights.
“Anna!” Elyse shrieked when she saw me approaching her entourage.
“Get your ass over here sexy. These guys are all visiting from Australia. They’re on a rugby tour or something. Did you know that each position has its own name? This guy was telling me that he’s the hooker,” she said, grinning at the stocky dude sitting next to her as she playfully tousled his hair, “but he’s already promised not to charge me for anything that happens tonight. Such a gentleman, isn’t he?”
“He sounds like quite a bloke,” I replied, playing along as I attempted to gracefully wiggle my way through the scrum which, by curious coincidence, seemed to only leave enough room for me to squeeze through by brushing up against a number of them.
“Spoken like a true Aussie,” the blond tree trunk in front of me noted, greeting me with a warm smile. “I’m Andrew,” he continued, reaching out his hand cordially.
“Anna,” I said, offering up my hand in return. “So tell me Andrew, are you a hooker as well?” I queried, spiritedly.
“No, there is just one of those per team. My mate here and I are both locks,” he replied, clasping his equally well chiselled neighbour on the shoulder.
While I couldn’t help but appreciate Andrew’s wavy locks and boy next door good looks, a quick glance at his buddy sent my attention right back to where I had started. Call me superficial if you want, but cauliflowered ears and broken noses sent a whole different short of shiver running down my spine.
“Well, that’s a bit presumptions of you don’t you think? Neither of you have even offered to go fetch me a drink and you’re already assuming that you’re locks?” I retorted, putting on a playful pout.
“Besides, I’m really more of a one guy sort of girl anyway,” I continued as I coyly winked at my new friend.
Andrew looked startled and began to blush a deep red as he finally caught on to my double entendre and stammered, “Oh, no, no, that’s not what I meant at all! That’s just the name of our position,” he replied, stumbling over his words. “Maybe I should go grab us a few drinks, yeah?”
Good Vibrations Page 7