How cute was that?
Luna liked Ari at least, way better than the drips who’d preceded him.
The whistle blew, but Ari stayed. They sat and talked for a while. Then, they kissed.
Woohoo! Another kiss under her belt!
They were supposed to go on-line and make their dating selections. If people picked each other, they’d receive their contact information.
“Come home with me,” Ari said. His thick accent made it sound like a command.
“I don’t think so…” she told him.
“I will be a gentleman.”
“I have to get going… .”
“Just for a little while. It’s a short walk from here.”
She thought for a moment. He seemed sincere enough… and she was enjoying herself. “Um… Okay.”
Here are some of the things Luna learned about Ari:
STATS ON ARI
Name: Ari Luz
Ethnic Background: Israeli, but raised in Vienna.
Martial Status: Single.
Children: None.
Body: Tall and thin, but worn-looking and stooped.
Hair: Graying.
Occupation: International investment banker.
Favorite physical activity: Bicycling.
Other likes: The Wall Street Journal, Forbes.
Dislikes: Changes in plans, disappointment.
Religion: Jewish.
Favorite writers: Anyone who writes books on economics.
Favorite dessert: Weichselstrudel.
Favorite expression: “Do not live in a town where there are no doctors.”
By the time they got to his place, Ari was talking like they were already a couple. Partnering had been on his to-do list for awhile, and he’d checked it off now. He spoke about relationships like they were a business merger and theirs was complete.
Luna wasn’t ready to merge quite yet, but she did like the attention. And she did want somebody to take care of her… to love.
But it was a little early to know if it would be him.
The apartment felt sterile and smelled like Pledge. “This is not my real residence,” he told her. “My mother is on an extended visit to New York, so I let her live there. I’m renting this place by the month, furnished.”
Convenient, though the furniture was depressingly neutral.
He sat on the beige couch. “Join me.” He patted a cushion.
She sat next to him. They kissed some more.
He was getting a little adventurous near her pants. “I’m not ready for that yet,” she told him. After her three-year hiatus she needed to take things slow, but she didn’t want to share that. So she said, “I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of first-date slut.”
He moved his hand higher, inside her blouse. That, she allowed. She liked it.
“Our bodies were made for each other,” he said. “You will see.”
That was how it worked in general, but she didn’t point that out. “I’ve gotta go,” she told him.
He tugged at her arm, but she pulled herself up.
“When will I see you again?” he asked.
“Next weekend,” she promised.
The weekend came.
Since Sunny hadn’t broken up with The Coconut yet, Luna decided it would be fun for the two couples to go out together. Nick and Sal had all the kids for the night, and were doubtlessly plying them with saturated fats and sugars but what the hell, they were their fathers and one night of crap couldn’t hurt too much. She picked Ari up from the train station and brought him to Sunny’s. “Where is the rest of it?” he asked, staring at the small, boxy house. “Was it lost in a hurricane?”
“No, this is all of it.”
“Why do they not put a top floor on it? Is it a trailer? I saw one in a movie.” Luna was guessing there weren’t many trailer parks in Vienna.
“Nope. It’s a regular house.”
They got out of the van and headed up Sunny’s walkway. Ari didn’t pick up his feet when he walked, it was more like a shuffle. Why hadn’t she noticed the other night?
Sunny and The Coconut were waiting inside. Slouched on the couch watching music videos on his computer, The Coconut wore a red-striped flannel shirt¸ like a lumberjack. Ari scanned him critically. “Are we not going to dinner?”
“We are,” Luna told him.
Ari looked stiff in his charcoal dress shirt with a dark gray tie and jacket. Luna wore a similar blouse to the one she’d met him in. She had it in several styles. When she found something she thought she looked good in, she bought it in every variation so she could just be done shopping. Sunny wore a black cotton blouse and black jeans: standard Sunny attire.
Soon after introductions, Sunny tugged Luna into the kitchen. “Excuse us,” Sunny called to the men. “I wanna show Luna a new recipe.”
On the other side of the swinging door, Sunny said, “Oh, no.”
“No?” Luna asked.
“No,” Sunny repeated. She was emphatic.
“Why no?” Luna asked. She knew Sunny was talking about Ari.
“Did you see those shoes?”
Luna recalled that they were slip-ons. “European style?” she asked.
Sunny snorted. “European, my ass. They’re like the ones my dad wears. Orthopedic trying to be stylish. You got yourself an old man. Get out, fast.”
They went back to the living room, where Ari questioned The Coconut about the music video playing on-screen.
“What is its purpose?” Ari asked.
“Music,” The Coconut responded.
“But music is to listen to. Why do you watch it?”
The Coconut shrugged.
“Ready, guys?” Luna asked.
The men stood. The Coconut nestled up to Sunny and touched her arm. She swatted his hand. “We talked about that,” she said.
The Coconut hung his head.
The dogs barked from the bedroom. “I couldn’t let them out with a strange man here,” Sunny explained. “They can barely deal with Layne and Phil.”
“I had a monkey once,” Ari told Sunny. “When I lived in Africa. It was quite an exciting life. I lived in a large tree house.”
“You don’t say.” She glanced down at his shoes. “I’m thinking that was a long time ago.”
“It was, actually.”
On the way out, Sunny whispered in Luna’s ear, “Yeah, before he went geriatric.”
NINETEEN
They drove to Mother Murphy’s.
“I do not like Irish cuisine,” Ari said on the way over. “It is so peasant-like, and it revolves around alcohol.”
“You don’t drink?” asked Sunny.
“Of course I drink,” Ari answered, disdain in his voice. “But I do not drink the things the Irish drink.” He shuddered.
“Not to worry,” said Luna. “This is an Italian restaurant. The wife is Italian, and she makes the meals. The husband, despite his peasant, Irish ways, learned how to make pizza and he does that up front.”
“Pizza. Cool,” said the Coconut.
“Really?” asked Sunny.
“I do not like much Italian food either,” said Ari.
“This place has a large menu, with a lot of healthy choices,” said Luna. It’s just dinner. Deal with it.
When they got out of the car, Sunny pulled Luna to the side. “We would’ve had a better time if we’d gone out without these tools.”
Luna glanced at Ari, who trudged toward the entrance in his old man shoes. Why doesn’t he pick his feet up?
Then there was The Coconut, who walked blandly and blankly alongside Ari. Is there a thought in his head?
“You’re right,” she told Sunny.
Inside, Ari glared at the multitude of Christmas decorations dangling in every conceivable area. It was like Santa’s sleigh had exploded in Mother Murphy’s. Garlands, candy canes, ornaments… . There was even a tree with presents underneath it, as well has stockings hanging, each with the name of a Mother Murphy’s employe
e scrawled in glittery red script.
“Look,” Luna said, pointing at the tiny plastic menorah perched on a table next to the large tree.
Ari scowled. “This is an insult.”
It was a pretty cheesy token.
“They bring matzoh to the table on request,” said Sunny. “I was with some ladies from the library a couple of years ago, and one of them was Jewish, so she asked for it.”
“Matzoh is for Passover,” Ari snarled.
“Oops,” said Sunny. “My bad.”
They sat at a table for four. “Not very stylish,” said Ari, brandishing the paper napkin from his setting.
“Similar to your shoes,” Sunny said under her breath.
“What’s that?”
“I said I like your shoes,” said Sunny.
“Thank you.” He glanced down to admire his footwear. “You cannot find these here. I bought them in Vienna.”
“You don’t say. Too bad, I would’ve bought Phil a pair,” Sunny said.
This might’ve alarmed a young man who was many years away from geriatrics, but fortunately The Coconut went with pretty much anything without comment.
Sunny took another good look at the shoes. “They sure don’t scream ‘Fifth Avenue,’” she told Ari.
Ari read the menu thoroughly, tsking all the way.
“They have cous-cous,” offered Luna.
He glared at her. “In an establishment such as this, I would doubt its authenticity.”
“What’s wrong with this place?”
“The furniture is plastic and metal, not wood or tiled.”
“So the décor isn’t upscale,” Luna said. “Can’t they have tacky tables and still have real cous-cous?”
“Unlikely,” said Ari.
“Nothing worse than imitation cous-cous,” muttered Sunny.
“What?”
“I said it’s a shame about the cous-cous. There’s just no couth in the world anymore.”
Ari made a long sigh of sacrifice. “I will make do,” he said. “That is the Israeli way.”
“I could picture you schlepping through the desert,” whispered Sunny.
“What?”
“I said, ‘Your people have been through so much.’”
He bowed his head. “It is true.”
This is going to be a long dinner, thought Luna. Thank God Ari’s hearing wasn’t super sharp.
They sat in a silence punctuated by conversation from other tables and rhythmic crunching. The Coconut gnawed on a sesame-coated breadstick.
After the third or fourth child whined loud enough for them to hear, Ari asked why there were children in the restaurant.
“They must’ve slipped out of their restraints at home and followed their parents here,” Sunny said. “Just be glad the shackles on my kids held.”
“May I take your order?” the waitress mercifully asked at that moment, before Sunny could carry the absurdity any further, because she certainly would’ve.
“Could I get a glass of pinot grigio right away?” Luna asked. Alcohol was the only way to get through this meal.
“I’ll take a Bud, no glass,” said Sunny.
“That is crass,” said Ari.
“Exactly,” said Sunny.
After the waitress returned with the wine and Budweiser, Luna ordered the filet of sole. Sunny ordered eggplant parmesan. The Coconut ordered two slices and a Guiness. Ari requested Gumppoldskirchen to drink, but the waitress thought he’d sneezed and blessed him. Then he tried to order Viennese lager, but they only had German. He made a sour face and ordered a glass of merlot. Having settled on his drink, he went on to quiz the waitress about the ingredients in various dishes before finally acquiescing to the balsamic chicken when she assured him it contained no peppers, carrots or corn, all of which gave him indigestion. Having secured the order at last, the waitress made a run for the kitchen.
“And no paprika,” Ari called to her fleeing back.
“Why no paprika?” Luna asked.
“It inflames arthritis.”
“You have arthritis?”
“I do not think so, but why take the chance?”
“Old man,” Sunny coughed into her napkin.
“What?” asked Ari.
“I said, ‘Here’s to friends!’” Sunny raised her Bud. “Cheers!”
She winked at Luna, who couldn’t help laughing.
The rest of the meal proceeded better, at least for Luna, who was enjoying her wine.
Sunny and Luna laughed about things the way they always did, while Ari stared like he was from a foreign country, which he was. (Actually, he was from two of them.)
Apparently Luna and Sunny’s offbeat humor failed to cross borders.
The Coconut didn’t have much to say either. It was almost like he wasn’t there.
Sunny wouldn’t have missed him, until it came time to pay their half of the check.
The group ordered dessert. Easy for The Coconut, who chose vanilla ice cream. Easy for Luna, who ordered crème brulee, which was like flan with a crust. Easy for Sunny, who opted for another Bud so she wouldn’t kill her buzz. Not so easy for Ari, who asked for Weichselstrudel.
“We don’t even have apple strudel,” said the waitress.
“Then I will have Sachertorte.”
“Not here, you won’t,” said the waitress, who was getting a bit snappish.
“Can’t you have a normal dessert?” asked Sunny. She took a swig of beer.
“I am trying, but they do not have any,” Ari said.
Fortunately, they did have espresso, which appeased him. Thank God it came with a lemon rind.
After they dropped off Sunny and The Coconut, Ari asked if he could come back to Luna’s house.
“Ah, no.” she told him. There was no way she was letting this critic take a gander at her housekeeping. Nor did she feel like explaining the lack of furniture.
“Then you will accompany me to Manhattan?”
“No, Ari… I have to pick my kids up in the morning. I’ll see you next weekend.”
She dropped him off at the train. He trudged onboard.
And why do you want to see him again? Jiminy asked. As your friend Sunny pointed out, he’s a tool.
Luna sighed. “I guess it’s because the beginning was good.”
Newsflash: Beginnings are always good. It takes a while to find out what a person’s really like.
“The beginning with Glen wasn’t good.”
He was an extreme. Leave it to you to find the one person who couldn’t contain his craziness through the first date, said Jiminy. Man, I have my work cut out with you.
“No one’s asking you to stick around.”
You’re asking, he said. You just don’t know it.
Luna kept her word and met Ari at his not-real apartment the following Saturday night. She was a bit tense, because she figured he’d want to have sex. She wanted to have it too, of course… but it’d been such a long time. What if she’d forgotten how?
Last night on the phone she’d told Sunny, “I feel like a virgin again.”
Sunny said, “Imagine the possibilities!” She was still against Ari, his dinner demeanor had done nothing to sway her. But she told Luna he would be good practice. “Get on top and go for it!” she told her.
Luna said, “I have my period. It came early.” Or maybe not. She never kept track of it, and was always surprised when it arrived.
Sunny had said, “Hey, virgins bleed.”
Ari and Luna started kissing and moved their way into the bedroom. He got her pants off, then started for the underwear.
“You might want to get a towel,” she told him.
“Why?”
“It’s that time of the month.”
He pushed her away like she was rabid. “Why would you do this?”
“I didn’t ‘do’ it. My period came, that’s all.”
“Did you not know?”
“It’s irregular.” At least, she thought it was.
&n
bsp; He let out a sound that was close to a growl. “It is disgusting.”
“It’s nature,” she said. Back at NYU, she’d studied human sexuality. Her professor had emphasized that a woman’s period was the most dynamic phase in her cycle, when she was filled with kinetic energy. The ancient Romans were in tune with this. Warriors were allowed to return to their wives during menstruation. Obviously, they kept better track of dates than Luna.
She didn’t share any of this with Ari. He didn’t seem open to a history lesson, or anything else. He sat on the bed with an erect posture, his back facing her. But apparently only his posture was erect.
She asked, “So… Can we at least cuddle?”
Really? asked Jiminy.
I just wanted to be touched again… to be held, she told him.
Get a grip, said Jiminy. This guy can’t give you what you’re looking for.
“No,” Ari said. His voice was cold, his accent sharp. “I have to work in the morning. I need my rest.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday,” she said.
“I work every day. That is part of my service to my clients.” He clicked off the lamp and climbed into bed, pulling up the covers. Luna stood in the dark, but she felt illuminated.
Jiminy was right.
Ari didn’t deserve her “virginity”—or her at all.
And as for cuddling with him… .
It would’ve been fruitless anyway, like snuggling up to a sword.
Luna was surprisingly calm. She felt around the floor for her clothes, put them on, and left.
TWENTY
It was Christmas Eve. As a present to herself, Luna decided to join Match.com. They charged a fee. That had to attract a better class of people than Glen, right?
Did you get what you paid for?
She had plenty of time to fill out her profile. The kids were with Nick at Uncle Alfonso’s house. Nick’s family always had a big Christmas Eve celebration, with all kinds of fried seafood. “A WOP tradition¸” Loreena had said on the phone earlier. As if Luna didn’t know. Loreena reminded her every year.
“Northern Italians don’t eat deep-fried foods,” Loreena said. “You just don’t care what your kids ingest, do you?”
Luna was not taking the bait. However, she didn’t have it in her to hang up on her mother, who after all did have a sick husband to deal with, so she sat there with the receiver perched on her shoulder, saying nothing until Loreena finally switched gears. “Do you want to go out for Christmas dinner tomorrow with the kids? Since you no longer have any obligations… .”
Luna Rising Page 13