Crystal Ball

by Laney Kay

  It had finally cooled off some, so we decided to walk to the restaurant. As we turned the corner by my house, he grabbed my hand and put a quick kiss on my knuckles. “You do your usual Saturday morning yoga and breakfast this morning?”

  “I did. I even suckered my friend Gina into going shopping with me, which I normally hate, but I figured I could use a new outfit.” I stopped and put my arms out to the side and spun around so he could see it. “What do you think?”

  He smiled and asked me to turn around again. I laughed and obliged, and when I was done, he grabbed my hand again and we continued walking. “You look great. I know the important question for you is whether it’s as comfy as your t-shirts and yoga pants?”

  “It is. This may be my new favorite outfit.”

  Luke gave me a deliberately lecherous look and bobbled his eyebrows up and down. “Mine, too.”

  I giggled at his silliness. “Okay, you dirty old man. Let’s get back to tonight. What have you heard about this restaurant? The only think I’ve heard is that they make a bourbon punch that comes in an old fashioned punch bowl and is supposed to be amazing.”

  Luke nodded. “I heard that, too, but I also heard the seafood is great, it has a great bar, and they have a fun outside area.”

  When we got there, it was already busy, but it did look fun. They said our table wouldn’t be ready for about twenty minutes, so we went through the restaurant out to the back patio. Luke got me a Corona Light and got himself a Georgia Brown from Sweetwater and I then proceeded to kick his ass in two straight games of cornhole. I told him not to feel bad about it because it’s hard to beat a woman who’s spent as much of her life tailgating as I have. By the time I finished my victory dance and Luke bought me what turned out to be a freaking bucket of bourbon punch, our table was ready.

  We had a great dinner. I wanted to order the Low country boil, but I hesitated since this was an actual date and that stuff is a total damn mess to eat. Then I thought, oh well, this is the kind of chick I am, so if he’s determined that we’re going to date, he can take it or leave it, so I ordered it. With extra butter for the crab legs. Luke laughed and ordered the same.

  When I looked at him, he was grinning from ear to ear. When I asked him what was so funny, he said, “You are the only woman I’ve ever met who would order something as messy as a Low country boil on a date.”

  I crossed my arms across my chest and mock frowned at him. “Oh yeah? Well, you’re the only guy that would be rude enough to point that out on a date.” That made him laugh. He halfway stood out of his seat to lean across the table to give me a quick kiss, then sat back down. He had dropped his napkin to the side, so when he stood back up and bent over to get it, I couldn’t help but notice how nice his shorts looked stretched across his butt. I think he caught me looking, but for once, he didn’t call me on it. He just smiled.

  I picked up my punch. “Okay, it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date, so I found an article online that said we should talk about casual subjects so we can get to know each other.”

  Luke nodded and answered with mock seriousness. “That sounds like an excellent idea, Miss Daisy. So what would you like to discuss?” He took a drink of his punch.

  I thought for a moment. “How’s your teaching job going?”

  He shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s been a nice break, but I’m about ready to get back doing construction work again.” We grinned at each other and started having a normal conversation.

  “You mentioned that vaguely a few months ago, but you want to start a new business?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, but not a huge business like before. I’d rather do renovation projects for people who really appreciate craftsmenship. I love built in furniture, like bookcases, cabinets, and window seats, so I’d like to design and build those for people. I also like building decks and porches, and I might build an occasional house or put on an addition to a house, but nothing on a large scale.”

  I was excited for him. “That sounds great, Luke. I know you’ve already done a few small projects here and there, and you really seem to enjoy it.”

  “I did. Fortunately, money isn’t a concern, so I can really take only the jobs I want. It’ll be wonderful not having to deal with a bunch of employees and the headaches that go with managing people. I think this will be great for me.”

  I agreed. He smiled at me as I took another sip of punch and asked me if I liked my TV job. I held up my hand and tilted it from side to side. “Eh. Some of it’s a blast. I love meeting and talking to people, but I can’t see myself doing it full time. Have you ever seen how a short segment is put together?”

  He shook his head. “Well, for a tiny little 5 minute story like mine, it takes hours to film, then I edit it, then they edit it, and the process just takes forever. Honestly, I don’t like hanging out there for hours, I don’t like doing the same shot over and over so they can get it from different angles, and I really hate that I have to wear this makeup that’s like spackle so you don’t look like Casper the Friendly Ghost on camera.” I shuddered. “You know how much I hate makeup, and that crap is so thick you can feel it when you talk. Also, because I’m so short, if we’re standing up for any part of the interview I have to stand on a box so that they can get both of us in a single shot. Which would be fine except for my stupid ADHD. I can’t tell you how many times I forget I’m standing on a box and have just about busted my ass falling off. It’s just a matter of time before I break something I might need. Plus, they make me wear clothes that will ‘look good on camera,’” which I did in little air quotes, “which is pretty much impossible for someone like me.”

  Luke had laughed about me falling off the box, but frowned when I commented that it was impossible for someone like me to look good on camera. Before he could open his mouth to defend me, I explained. “TV cameras are not kind to short chicks with boobs and a butt. I end up looking very short and very round. In fact, after my first segment aired, I asked Sara how she thought I looked on camera and she said she thought I looked good, but I did look rounder than I do in real life, and if she had to choose a phrase to describe me it would be, ‘All tits and ass. All the time.’”

  Luke was grinning again and I narrowed my eyes at him. “What?!”

  He shrugged and started laughing at my expression. “Daisy, trust me, ‘All tits and ass. All the time.’ doesn’t sound like a problem to me, or to any other man.”

  About that time, our waitress came by and set an enormous platter piled with seafood in front of us. She handed us a basket with claw crackers, hammers, picks for the crab legs and for the blue crabs, and bibs for both of us. I asked her if we really needed the bibs and she nodded so hard her glasses slid down her nose. “Absolutely. We cook this in a butter seafood boil and, trust me, it’ll ruin your clothes.” Since I’m kind of a hot mess on a good day, and I really liked my new outfit, I quickly tied on the bib.

  We dug into the pile of food, and it was delicious. Luke and I were talking and laughing, and I was having such a good time I forgot I was actually on an official date. We were just friends having a great time. When he pounded a crab claw and little crab pieces flew all over his face and hair, I couldn’t stop laughing at the look on his face as he picked off what crab bits he could find, so he finally leaned over and kissed me quickly just to shut me up. I waved a crab leg and a claw cracker at him, “Okay, watch and learn, big boy,” cracked the claw and somehow managed to sling butter all over my nose and chin. Now he was laughing at me. I tried to wipe off the butter, but I’m sure my face was just a shiny, buttery mess.

  I dropped the whole mess on my plate and Luke grinned as I grabbed a handful of paper towels. “Holy crap, look at me.” I tried to wipe the butter off my hands and face but I’d managed to get it everywhere.

  He shook his head and laughed at my efforts. He waved a huge piece of crab in front of my face, taunting me with his crab-cracking prowess. “Check this out Daisy.” I tried to grab it but he was too quick and popp
ed it in his mouth. “Ha, ha. Too slow.”

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “Showoff. Let me clean this off of me and I’ll show you how to pick some crab.”

  I grabbed a piece of lemon and squeezed it in my hand and grabbed some new paper towels. Luke shook his head doubtfully. “I don’t think you have enough lemon and paper towels to complete de-grease yourself.”

  I agreed and threw down the used towels. “I’m afraid you’re right. I think it’s going to take some scrubbing with Dawn dishwashing liquid, like they do the ducks in an oil spill to totally unbutter myself.” I threw up my hands. “And I think I’m going to need a shower and a big loofah to get me squeaky clean.”

  At that Luke got quiet. He grabbed a lemon, squirted some on his hands and looked at me intently until he finally said, in a low voice, “A shower, huh? That could definitely be arranged.”

  We just stared at each other. The tension between us grew and grew and, as much as I thought it would be better for me if I did, I couldn’t look away. My brain started racing. Let’s face it, Bobby and I had been out of the habit of frequent sex for a while, and we’d been separated and divorced for more than a year, so it had been a while for me. All I could think of is that some friends have sex. Isn’t that the whole concept of friends with benefits? I mean, I’ve never had a friend with benefits, but I’d certainly be willing to think about it. And Luke is a friend. A hot friend, but a friend. Maybe a little recreational sex would be a good idea…

  Then I started thinking about the reality of it. All I could think is that I’d have to get naked if I wanted to have sex, and I’m in my mid-forties and I’m a short, chubby chick, and holy shit, how scary is that? Luke is built like some kind of hot jock in a men’s fitness magazine, and I’m built like, well, whatever would be the opposite of that, and a middle-aged one at that. I’ve never been particularly shy or modest, but the whole idea of getting naked with a new man, especially one without a stray ounce of fat or any other physical flaw that I could see, was like a cold bucket of water in the face. And yes, I know that’s totally shallow and a stupid thing to worry about, but this whole thing was so new and so weird, I didn’t know how to handle it.

  I finally looked away from Luke, picked up another napkin and focused intently on wiping off my hands and face. I drained the rest of my punch and poured myself some more and drank some of that, too. It didn’t help. I was still freaked. When I finally looked up and met his eyes, I could see he looked concerned. “You all right?”

  I smiled unconvincingly. “Oh yeah, I’m just fine.” I finally gave up on my hands, scrubbed the napkin between my hands and threw it back on my plate. “I’m just going to run to the rest room and wash my hands and face with some running water. I think I’m finally crabbed out.” I jumped to my feet and he stood up to pull back my chair, but I was already on my way. I could feel his stare on my back and I know he was trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

  I washed my hands and face and was relieved to see that there was no butter anywhere else. Shockingly, my hair and outfit seemed to be unscathed. I did touch up my bronzer and debated about calling Lola, but decided I just needed to quit being such a wuss and go back out to Luke. He didn’t deserve to have me hiding in the bathroom again. So I took a deep breath and went back out to the table.

  He stood up when I approached and once we both sat down, he didn’t hesitate. “What the hell was that?”

  I looked at him and shrugged. “Luke, I’m sorry. It’s not you. This is all really new to me and you know I’m still pretty freaked at the idea of dating anyone.” As in, dating-then-getting-buck-naked-with-a-hot-guy freaked out.

  He ran a hand through this hair and looked at me, obviously frustrated. “Look, Daisy, I get that the idea of dating anyone freaks you out in general, but we get along great, we’re comfortable with each other, and we have a great time together. What is the problem?”

  I felt bad, because I know I was acting a little nuts, but I also felt irritated. And still panicked about the whole naked thing. “Look, you’ve been divorced since 2006, I’ve been divorced for about a minute. I’m just not in the same place as you. I get that my behavior is frustrating…it’s weirding me out, too, but it is what it is.” I reached in my purse for my wallet and rifled around for some money. I took out all my cash and threw it in the middle of the table. I told him that should cover at least half and stood up to leave. “I think we should just call this an experiment that didn’t work out and I’ll see you around.”

  He was sitting there with his mouth open by the time I was out the door. I turned toward home, trying to get there before I started crying. Within a few seconds, I heard someone run up behind me. Gee, look who it is…Luke. Shocking.

  I kept walking, carefully avoiding looking at him, but I was relieved to find that I was feeling less stressed. It figures. Now the stupid bourbon kicks in. “I hope you paid the rest of that bill and didn’t stiff that poor little waitress.”

  He quietly answered me. “I paid the bill while you were in the bathroom because I didn’t have a good feeling that you were coming back.” He grabbed my hand, pulled me to a stop, put my money in my hand, and closed my fingers over it. “Here’s your money back. I asked you out, and I pay.”

  I knew better than to argue with a good Southern boy over who pays for a date. I shoved the money in my pocket and kept walking, and he silently fell into step beside me. Neither of us said a word until we were back at my house. I dug my keys out of my purse and unlocked the door. I stepped inside and turned to face him with an insincere smile pasted on my face. “Thanks for dinner, Luke. Um, I’ll see you around...” My voice trailed off uncomfortably and he just stood there, so I shut the door in his face.

  As soon as I did, I took a deep breath and opened it again because it was such a jackass thing to do. He was still standing there with his hands in his pockets and a totally expressionless face.

  “I’m sorry.” I said.

  He nodded silently and stood there looking at me for several seconds. Finally, he said, “You’re forgiven. And I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re right, I forgot that this is all new to you.” He sighed. “Can I come in for a little while? I’d like to talk to you.”

  I stepped aside and motioned him in. “Come on in and I’ll make us some iced coffee.”

  He came inside and followed me to the kitchen. He sat in one of my dining room chairs and watched me as I made our drinks. I glanced at him over my shoulder and asked, “You want some pistachio biscotti? I got it at the farmer’s market.”

  He nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, that would be great since we ran out before dessert.”

  I grabbed the bag of biscotti, put a few on a plate, and then carried everything to the table. I sat down in the chair across from Luke and we had a few sips in companionable silence. I could feel that the tension had left the room and I felt monstrously relieved.

  I figured it was up to me to start the conversation since I’m the one who ruined our dinner. I took a gulp of coffee and smiled at him. “I thought the restaurant was great. The food was fabulous.”

  He smiled and sipped his drink as I continued. “You’ve gotta respect any restaurant that serves bourbon in a bucket.” He chuckled. “And I love to start off any evening by showing off my mad cornhole skills.” I ran out of steam and took a big bite of biscotti.

  Luke smiled and winked. “You do have some mad cornhole skills. Let’s see how you do with something like bowling or pool, big talker. Something not related to tailgating so I can get my macho bragging rights back.”

  I laughed at that, and Luke reached over and touched my hand until I looked directly at him. “Hey, we need to talk about this. You want to tell me what suddenly freaked you out at the restaurant? I kidded you about needing a shower and you looked like I punched you.”

  I didn’t want to tell him any of it. There’s no way to explain that whole naked thing to a man in a way that doesn’t sound crazy, so I told him the partial truth.
“You said something about us taking a shower together. My brain starting whirling around and all of a sudden, it just seemed like we were moving way too fast.”

  He looked at me as though he was trying to figure out if that was really the problem. He nodded at me and said, “Well you were right in that we are in two totally different places, but I think you’re dead wrong about us being a ‘failed experiment’.” He leaned forward and covered my hand with his. “Let me ask you something, Daisy. Before you got upset, were you having a good time? Because I was having a great time.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I was having a great time, too.” I smiled at him and I was relaxed enough to tell him more of the truth. “Honestly, Luke, I love when we spend time together because I’m really comfortable with you and we always have fun. We like the same things, you like my dogs, you don’t mind that I have no fashion sense and can’t stand to dress up, and you pretty much give me as much space as I want, which is a huge deal for me.”

  What I didn’t tell him was that he’s not just fun to hang out with. He’s hot. And smells delicious. And if I wasn’t such a paranoid freak, I would totally love a week-long sex fest with him. Damn it. I took a sip of coffee to distract myself from going down that road right now.

  He smiled and turned his hand so that our fingers were laced. “I love spending time with you, too, so let’s just keep hanging out. And any time you’re not comfortable with me or with something I say or do, just tell me and I’ll stop and we’ll talk about it. Don’t run off and we’ll figure it out.”

  I rolled my eyes. Ugh, how embarrassing. “Wow. That sounds like a blast for you. I can see why you’d think that dating me is a great idea.” I could feel my face flush. “How much of a damn wimp am I?”