by Nella Tyler
“He knows you better than I thought. I guess one evening after your drive-through pick swore him off giving you that option ever again,” she teased.
“Seriously. It isn’t a date.”
“Are you that stupid? Of course, it’s a date. He just has a really good opportunity to make you have to say yes. Really, it’s genius…and devious.” She thought for a minute. “I like him.”
“You met him for like, a minute,” I hissed.
“Well, he obviously likes you. Come on. What’s the harm in giving him another chance?”
“Because he didn’t mess up the first one…at all.”
“Then, why do you think he’s going to mess up the second?”
“But, he’s leaving. I’m too old and too busy for...a waste of time,” I replied bluntly, with far too much on my mind to worry about coding it for little ears. Besides, our last code backfired so badly, I thought I was going to get sick. It was funny now, but it was all I could do to remain lighthearted when Kassie kept bringing up the games we played. Hopefully, he was actually as oblivious as his facial expression suggested, but I doubted it.
“A waste of time? Really?”
“Well—” Michelle groaned heavily before I could finish and I stopped talking, fearing that she might hit me with the back of the brush.
“Just because you aren’t investing in something doesn’t make it a waste of time. You had fun with him the other night. Go into it with the idea that you are going to have fun with him again. You need a little spontaneity in your life.”
“Yeah, but I could see myself falling for him.”
“Okay, so you fall for him. Maybe he even falls for you. Like I told you the other day, you never know what the Lord has planned.”
“More than likely, I’ll end up devastated.”
“My friend moved away once. I was sad,” Kassie interjected, almost randomly.
“I know, sweetie, but Mr. Muggles needed to leave.”
“Mr. Muggles?” I looked at Michelle.
“Yes, Mr. Muggles, the monkey,” Michelle replied, sounding genuinely torn up about it. “He and his monkey family moved to Downy, Ohio to escape the great Maytag flood.”
“Yeah, I guess he wasn’t a sea monkey,” Kassie sighed sadly, before returning to painting my toes.
I thought about this for a moment, before yanking Michelle down so that I could whisper to her. “Did you destroy her stuffed animal by putting him in the washing machine?”
“Um-hum. It was devastating. She cried for days, and I couldn’t find the damn thing anywhere…”
“But she accepted that he moved to avoid the…Maytag flood?”
“Yep. Technically, I didn’t exactly lie. He didn’t make it out of the flood, but since she doesn’t understand that there is no Downey, Ohio, and Maytag is a washing machine, I can sleep at night.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
“But, Kassie does have a point,” Michelle added, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We decided that even though he had to move away, we wouldn’t change the fun we had or the memories we made with him.”
“Are you seriously trying to convince me of this based on a story about a stuffed monkey?”
“It’s that or the SpongeBob Friendship song. That’s pretty much all I have to work with nowadays,” Michelle admitted.
I laughed.
“Seriously, though. You deserve to have fun. Not everything has to be planned. Some things can just be fun – memorable and exciting without being part of the master plan…” She paused for a moment, for effect before she added, “And besides, who knows? This could lead to something more.”
With that, there was a knock at the door, and Kassie jumped up to get it before anyone could stop her.
“Kassie!” Michelle called.
“It’s okay, Michelle. If you’re right, he’s going to have to enjoy you guys being around; if you’re wrong, maybe Kassie will scare him away and I won’t have to do this.”
This time, I did feel a slight pop on the top of my head from what I knew was a brush. “Ouch!” I screamed, glaring back at her.
“Say something like that again, and I’ll hit you harder. I’ve got a lot of pent up aggression from this whole thing with my house and no one to rightfully take it out on.”
“What do you mean? Say something like what?”
“That you’re not going to have fun!”
I stood up and backed away from her. “What? You tried reasoning with me, now you’re just going to beat the fun and frolic into me?”
“If I have to. Go get dressed.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you know something I don’t? Why is my love life so important to you?”
“No, I know nothing, except for the fact that I think he makes you happy and you deserve to have a good time. Please,” Michelle insisted. “For me?”
“Why don’t I give you and Gavin money for a nice dinner and a hotel so you two can have a nice time?”
“You can do that tomorrow night,” she told me, bringing my dress to me and pushing it toward me. “Tonight is for you.”
I huffed as she turned around so I could get dressed. She helped me with my zipper and took the curlers out of my hair while I did my makeup. After another ten minutes, I was ready.
As I approached the living room, I heard Kassie’s voice, talking to Tim. Wanting to hear the conversation, Michelle and I plastered ourselves against the wall, trying not to laugh. I chanced a look around to the room and saw Kassie, sitting on the chair, close to Tim, looking as though she was interrogating him. Her legs swung back and forth as she leaned forward.
“What are your inflections?” she demanded.
“My inflections?” Tim asked, trying not to crack up himself.
“Yeah. My Aunt Jenna is a good girl. She wants to know your inflections and so do I.”
“Do you mean…my intentions?”
“Please, just answer the question.”
“Gavin has got to let her stop watching police dramas…” Michelle chuckled in my ear.
“Shhh! This is great!” I hissed back.
“Yes, of course, Ms. Kassie. My intentions with your aunt are genuine, I assure you.”
“Speak like a normal person. I’m only four. I don’t want any funny-business.”
“Never,” he replied. “You’re only four? You are very well-spoken…”
“No compliments, either. Just answer my question…in a way I can understand.”
From the sound of his voice, I could imagine that his face was bright red from trying to contain his laughter. “Yes ma’am. I only want to be your aunt’s friend. I like her a lot…and…”
“Okay. That’s enough torturing the poor guy,” Michelle finally spoke up, walking out from behind the wall. I followed.
“I don’t know, Michelle, I wanted to hear the rest of his answer. I would have had him sweat it out a little more.”
“Wow. You’re rough!” she retorted, grinning widely.
“No. I just know what I want.” I laughed.
“I’m sorry, Tim. My sister is usually a sweet woman,” Michelle teased.
I actually looked at him for the first time. Tim’s hair was smoothed back, and he was closely shaven. His eyes shimmered with laughter, and his grin was bright, genuine. The suit that he was wearing accented all of his assets, which I could confidently attest to, and his shoes were shined magnificently.
As he turned, I caught a whiff of his scent, and my cheeks burned at the memory of that glorious aroma drifting out from the fibers of my pillow. I tried not to imagine how much I would miss that, considering there was no way I could bring him home with Michelle and her family here.
“You look nice,” I exclaimed, trying to ensure that he knew I was teasing him before about letting him suffer under Kassie’s interrogation.
“Thank you.” His eyes rested on me, gently gliding over my bodice in a seductive manner that made me wish it were his hands undressing me instead of his eyes. I
blushed, feeling the hair on my arms stand on end and hoping that no one else noticed my unintentional reaction.
“All right, you two! You are behind schedule as it is!” Michelle insisted, scooting us both toward the door. “Go on! Go have fun! And, Tim?” She waited until he turned, giving her his full attention. “Have her back by midnight, will you?”
I felt my jaw drop open. I whipped my head around and shot her a look that if looks were lethal, Michelle would’ve never recovered.
“Yes, ma’am!” Tim replied obediently, his bright beam gleaming as his hand curved into the crevices in the small of my back, accented by the low-cut dress I had chosen to wear. At the feel of his touch, my body trembled. I longed to have his weight against me, his virile arms surrounding me, and his manliness inside of me. I grinned at the thought and hurried outside.
“I’m sorry about that,” I told him, feeling slightly guilty by the time we got to his car.
“Sorry for what? That was great.” he answered, running ahead to open the door before I had the chance to do the honors myself. I raised my eyebrows as though he had issued a challenge.
“I see you’ve learned,” I teased, sinking carefully into the car.
“Oh, I’m not letting you get away with anything tonight.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
“You’ll see,” he responded before slamming the door shut.
On the way to the restaurant, he stayed true to his word. Not only did Tim neglect to ask where I wanted to eat, he also refused to tell me where we were going.
I had to admit, I was enjoying his effort, forcing me to allow him the honor of being my gentleman. While most men around here knew how to court a lady, their attempts at chivalry diminished greatly once they realized I could take care of myself.
However, with Tim, it seemed that it was exactly the opposite. The more I resisted his attempts to be a good date, the harder he worked to show me he was worthy. Either he liked me quite a lot, or he couldn’t stand the blow to his ego. I wasn’t sure which it was yet, so I decided I would continue playing our game until I could decipher his true intentions.
I was pleased to see that he had listened to me when I told him I wasn’t big on spending an arm and a leg for spaghetti. He had settled on a nice Mexican restaurant in the area, instead of going the much more esteemed Italian restaurant I had told him I didn’t like. When we pulled in, I couldn’t help but decide this was a good choice, even though I didn’t give him that satisfaction by voicing it.
I got a point in our game by leaping out of the car before he had a chance to open the door for me. He shot me a dirty look, knowing I had done it on purpose, but responded by ensuring that he opened the doors to the restaurant.
I couldn’t ignore the thought that I was genuinely enjoying the undertone of the date. I had never played a game like this before.
Kassie would be proud.
Upon entering the restaurant, we were seated immediately. It was a nice, locally-owned place that I hadn’t been to in a while.
In all fairness, I hadn’t been anywhere but the hospital in a while, if I wasn’t with Kassie and Michelle. Michelle only liked a few restaurants and would only go there if it was absolutely necessary, so it was safe to say that I hadn’t been here since before medical school.
The place hadn’t changed much – after all, change wasn’t exactly a staple of the town. History and culture, doing things the way they had always been done usually won out, with medicine being the rare exception, for obvious reasons.
“You don’t strike me as someone whose second pick would be this place,” I offered as my eyes scanned the menu.
“Second pick? What makes you say this was a second pick?”
“Since you wanted to take me to the Italian place. It makes sense that wherever you took me this time without asking my permission would be either your favorite restaurant around here or fallback plan; either way, it was your second choice in our situation.”
“Oh, so now we have a situation?”
“Don’t we?”
“You do like this place, right?”
“Yeah. I haven’t had Mexican in a long time.” I grinned, “But this place has always been good…consistent.”
“That’s what I think, too,” he answered before his eyes dropped down to the menu. “So, what do you like?”
As he asked without taking his head out of the folds of the menu, I eyed the waiter and got his attention. “We’ll have the tostadas to start. I’ll have the tacos de carnitas, and he’ll have…the California burrito. Oh, and the house Cabernet…a bottle,” I told the waiter as I handed him my menu and beamed sweetly while Tim’s mouth dropped open. The waiter exchanged a strange look between us, but didn’t bother to ask anything else. Instead, he left to put our orders in.
When he left, Tim narrowed his eyes, and I stuck out my tongue. His jaw dropped again in shock.
“Uh…why did you go with a California burrito for me?”
“It seemed like something you would like. Was I right?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point.”
“It wouldn’t be the point if I was wrong – but I wasn’t, so it is exactly the point.”
He rolled his eyes and I could tell in that gesture alone that he was being as genuine as he could be. I was happy to see there was no pretense and hoped I was correct in thinking that I had finally broken through the barrier.
I had gotten Tim Meck to be himself.
“So, while I still have some semblance of masculinity left, maybe we could call a truce? At least until after dinner?”
I snickered. “Not a chance.” He laughed and I was certain that I had stripped him of any mask. It felt good.
A few minutes later, the waiter returned with the bottle of wine. He placed a glass in front of both of us and paused. “Does the lady want to sample the wine?” he asked finally, almost as though he was afraid I would yell at him if he tried to present it in the traditional fashion. I felt my top teeth clench down, hard on my bottom teeth as I tried to remain serious as I realized what was going on.
“No, Sir,” I replied, trying to sound sophisticated. “I do believe that is the man’s responsibility.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter replied and poured a small amount into the glass.
“After all,” I added as Tim swirled the glass around and put it up to his lips, “A woman in this age can overcome many things, but her size is purely a natural gamble.”
Tim tipped the swallow of wine into his mouth before staring at me, wondering what I was doing. I returned the shocked expression, as if he should know exactly what I was referring to.
“The wine, dear. You know that if it were tainted, it would take a lot more to poison you than it would me…and after all of those threats, you never can be too careful.”
Tim swallowed hard, half choking and half snorting a chuckle while the waiter backed away from the table slowly. When he was gone, Tim laughed again as his eyes followed.
“Damn, girl. You are crazy. I don’t want to get arrested, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Arrested for what?”
“I don’t know, suspicion of…whatever it is he thinks you’re getting death threats for…”
“You know, that’s why they do it, right?”
“So the man keels over? I don’t think so. That tradition is to ensure the wine is good, not lethal. If we had a servant, a Cup-Bearer, I think they were called, they would drink it.”
“How does he know you’re not my Cup-Bearer?
“Umm, because this is the civilized world, and generally people don’t need to worry about that stuff. And besides, I don’t think you trust me enough for that.” He grinned in a teasing fashion. Now, it was my turn to roll my eyes.
When the meal came, the waiter practically threw the plates on the table and left. Tim watched him and laughed. “I think you scared that poor boy.”
“He’ll get over it.”
“I was right. You are
ruthless. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“Maybe you already are.”
“You haven’t made me cry yet, so I can’t be in too deep.”
“Maybe I’m just drawing you closer so that when I do strike, you won’t have a chance of surviving.”
His eyes grew wide, and his expression was truly surprised. “Holy Hell, what is wrong with you?”
At his reaction, I stopped to think about what I had said. “I don’t know. Maybe that was a little overboard.”
“Ya think?”
We stopped to eat for a little while and when we took a break, I cleared my throat, causing him to look up. “How's your father? I spoke to Dr. Pierce, and he said you were in the hospital the other day inquiring about your father’s condition.”
“Yes,” he replied, straightening slightly and pushing away from the table, giving me the feeling that he didn’t enjoy personal questions that made him human. “He’s good now. Dr. Pierce told me that he was only having a bad day, and it turned out, he was right. Dad is much better now. I can see improvement every day.”
“That’s great! I know it can be difficult, taking care of family, especially fathers.” I shook my head. “If yours is anything like mine, he’s always perfect and you never know what you’re talking about.”
“Even with your medical degree?”
“Especially with my medical degree.”
“Yup, that sounds like my father. Except, he doesn’t even speak to me. It’s a rare occasion when he gives me the time of day, much less tells me the truth about how he is feeling.”
“Parents are weird like that. I think it’s hard for them to give up the reins. I see it a lot, not only with my parents, but with patients.”
“Same thing in business, but it’s weird. People work their entire life so that they have a legacy to give their children, but then when it comes time to retire, they don’t want to let go.” There was something about the way he said it that made me feel as though he wasn’t only talking about his colleagues.
After dinner, we walked back to his car, plowing through the entrance and practically fighting one another to open my door. It was fun, having someone who was as stubborn as I was. I had to admit, I could see how it would become challenging at times, but for now, it was simply entertaining.