A Year to Remember (14 page)
“I hate that picture.”
“You looked amazing in that picture. When we met at the rehearsal, I kept trying to approach you, but I was too nervous. When you gave the toast at the wedding, I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to get you to notice me. I’m pretty shy when it comes to dating, and I don’t have a lot of experience with it. I really wanted to kiss you.”
Did he mean he wanted to kiss me, or was he implying it was he that had kissed me in the dark that night? Was he my mystery kisser? I didn’t want to ask him, in case he wasn’t, since that would put a damper on our conversation. That left only one way to confirm it.
We had to kiss.
“Is that why you didn’t call me? Because you’re shy?”
“That, and because I’m not Jewish.”
I knew he wasn’t Jewish, but it didn’t occur to me until now that it could be a problem. If we became serious, it could become the kind of issue that would end our relationship. Should I risk it? I’ve never dated anyone that wasn’t Jewish. I’m also still single. Maybe, I should broaden my horizons.
“I think we should worry about our religion if we get serious. Now, we’re just two single adults trying to see if there’s anything with potential between them. Certainly, we shouldn’t deny ourselves the opportunity to find out.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he whispered as he leaned into kiss me.
His lips touched mine, as soft as a feather, before he lifted his head to peer into my eyes. He touched my cheek and smiled. I remembered whoever kissed me that night had also touched my cheek. I had a good feeling I’d solved the mystery.
“Would you like to take our walk now?”
“I would love that.” I meant it, too.
We walked along a path through the nature trail, which before Caleb had never interested me at all. Now, as we walked hand-–in-hand while the snow lightly fell around us, I noticed the beauty of the trees I normally ignored. The leaves of the trees had started to blossom with little purple flowers. Hopefully, they’d survive the snow.
With no one in sight, we could hear the sounds of the animals scampering in the woods. We discussed our fears, me of sharks and him of dying young. We debated whether our country owes it to the world to interfere on sovereign nations’ internal struggles. We chatted about the places we’d most like to visit. For two hours, I forgot about the rest of the world, while Caleb and I absorbed everything we could about each other.
We found a bench to rest our feet. He put his arm around me and I rested my head on his shoulder, hoping he would take the opportunity to kiss me. Then we saw a deer as she darted from one side of the wooded path to the other, followed by her fawn. Caleb swept my hair off my face and watched me intently. This time, I leaned into him for the kiss. His lips were soft as they found mine, but in a moment, the kiss became hurried and passionate. I could taste the Sumatra on his tongue and I moved in closer to press my body against his. We must have kissed for five minutes and in that time, Caleb never groped or fondled me, verifying he was a perfect gentleman. Only when we heard the voices of approaching runners did we pull out of the kiss.
“We should get back.” He took my hand, and we made our way back to the car in silence.
When we arrived back at my condo, I felt disappointed our date had ended. Luckily, my messy condo kept me from even considering inviting him in, because I didn’t want to rush into anything with Caleb. I wanted everything to remain perfect.
“I want to see you again. Are you busy next weekend?”
I didn’t want to go out on dates with anyone but Caleb. He had me wrapped around his finger already. I had made a commitment to my dates for this weekend. I owed it to myself to play the field until I was sure I had found “the one.”
“I have plans Friday and Saturday night, but I’d love to see you on Sunday if you any time available.”
He looked worried when I mentioned being busy over the weekend. I didn’t explain my plans, and Caleb rightly inferred I had scheduled dates. After all, he did hear my toast at my brother’s wedding. Unlike the other men I had dates with, Caleb knew I was trying to get married before a deadline.
“Sunday it is. I’ll call you this week and we can talk about what we’d like to do together.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said, while he walked me to my door.
He kissed me again, but less passionately this time. I assumed he worried if the kiss became too intense, we’d end up in bed. Still, the kiss left both his taste on my lips and my body begging for more, so it’d served its purpose.
I started dialing Missy as soon as I walked into my condo. It’s like nothing really happened until I tell my best friend about it and she has given me her opinion. That’s how it has always been with us.
Only now it occurred to me while I always call her about my dates, she never does. She may mention she had a date or imply she’s going on one, but she never asks me for advice or for my opinion. Maybe she believes I wouldn’t understand because I’m not a lesbian, but honestly, other than the connecting body parts, is there really such a difference? Love is love and sex is sex no matter if it’s between a man and a woman or it’s between the same gender. Why can’t she talk to me about it?
I didn’t want to argue with her. In all our years of friendship, we never seriously fought about anything. Sure, we have had little disagreements about mundane things such as where we want to go and eat, but otherwise, we don’t quarrel. That’s why we’re such great friends.
I hung up the phone and instead of calling Missy to brag about my date with Caleb and my three dates scheduled for next weekend, I chose to take a bath and read a romance novel. If I called Missy tonight, I’d want to know why she’s been acting more distant from me lately and why she never shares about her love life with me and why she and Lori are keeping a secret from me.
I’m her best friend and best friends should not keep secrets from each other. Still, I couldn’t bear the thought of finding out something that might change our friendship forever. I decided to wait until she called me and let the memories of today lull me to sleep.
APRIL 13, 2012
DETROIT, MICHIGAN
WEIGHT: 178
STATUS: SINGLE
Missy and I barely got the chance to talk before my Friday night date. In the five minutes we had spoken, I simply let her know I’d had a great time with Caleb and that I had dates this weekend with both of my matches from speed dating. She pretended to sound happy for me, but I knew her too well to believe her.
Caleb had called me every night since last Sunday. We didn’t talk for long, but he’d call just to ask how my day was going and to let me know he was thinking about me. Very romantic.
Max, on the other hand, hadn’t called me since we made our plans. I wasn’t even sure if he’d show. But, right on time, Max pulled up in a black corvette, his hair perfectly coiffed and his teeth so white he belonged in a toothpaste commercial.
To tell you the truth, I’m prejudiced against the perfectly beautiful ones. You know the type. I’d wager Max’s high school class elected him Homecoming King, Most Popular and Most Likely to Succeed, along with his perfect girlfriend. Then after high school, he probably broke up with her in order to play the field. In medical school, I imagined he chose another perfect woman as his girlfriend, one also in medical school, who would not expect anything from him other than sex and accompaniment to society functions. When they’d broken up due to their careers, he’d thrown himself into his job until one day he looked around and discovered it was no longer posh to have the perfect beautiful model on his arm. Now, he’s probably looking for a wife, someone to bear him children and make a home for him. Someone to impress his boss with her intelligence, wit, and social graces.
He probably believed a chubby girl would be lucky to get a guy like him, that she’d do anything to be his wife, including allowing the occasional mistress. If he assumed I would allow him to sleep around, while I stay home with our two kids and plan our dinner with the Chief of Surgery, he’d find himself thrown out on his ass.
When I opened the door to step outside, I felt foolish for letting my imagination get the best of me. I owed him the benefit of the doubt and tried not to assume the worst before getting to know him. I wouldn’t expect him to do any less for me.
“It’s a little chilly tonight. You should probably bring a scarf. You don’t want to catch a cold,” he greeted.
Now, I really regretted making assumptions. It’s my own insecurity rearing its ugly head. Not my best quality and one I didn’t want Max to ever see.
I listened to Max’s suggestion and grabbed my scarf before heading out.
“Where are we going to dinner?”
“I made reservations at the new Ethiopian restaurant that just opened. It got great reviews in the paper and I’ve heard good things about it from my friends.”
I’ve never tried Ethiopian, but I didn’t want to sound whiny if I suggested we go somewhere else. Instead, I turned on the radio to listen to some music. He immediately turned it off.
“Sorry, I don’t like to listen to music while I drive. I find it too distracting,” he informed me.
“No problem.”
Honestly, it was a problem. Because I didn’t just listen to music while I drove, I cranked it up so loud my neighbors could hear me when I pulled in and out of my driveway. My parents do the same thing and it became a habit early on.
It’s not like I have to have music on all the time. I didn’t need to listen to loud music with Caleb because I enjoyed talking with him. My mind started wandering to steamy thoughts of Caleb and I had to concentrate to regain my focus on Max.
In Max’s defense, he picked an excellent restaurant for our date. While not fancy, the restaurant had an upscale ambiance without feeling too intimidating. We sat on cushions on the floor across from each other with a small table in the middle. Not the most comfortable way to dine, but certainly unique.
Max asked the waitress for recommendations since neither one of us had eaten at an Ethiopian restaurant before tonight. She suggested we order a combination meat and vegetable platter which would allow us to sample eight dishes on the menu. I’m not the biggest meat eater, but I agreed to the platter.
While we waited for our food, we drank some wine and I attempted to relax, admiring the Ethiopian artwork that decorated the room.
“So Max, how do you enjoy being a pediatrician?” I asked, not caring I had broken my rule about talking about work.
“I love being a doctor,” he replied.
“You must love children since you’re a pediatrician,” I added.
“Actually, I can’t stand the little germ-infested beasts.”
I sat there staring at him, trying to determine if he was pulling my leg. He certainly looked dead serious.
“Why do you work with kids if you don’t like them?”
“We all have to do a pediatric rotation in medical school. I impressed the pediatric physicians with my skills, and they convinced me I would make a successful pediatrician. I can fake it well enough with the kids, and it’s really the parents I interact with anyway. Of course, that’s no picnic either.”
I lost my appetite, but the waitress set the food in front of us, oblivious to my growing distain for the man sitting in front of me. She explained the dishes to us and the manner of how to eat it.
“There are two chicken dishes and one beef dish as well as lentils, peas, cabbage, and mixed veggies. Here we do not use utensils to eat our food. We use the bread,
injera
, to scoop the food, and lovers feed each other.”
“It’s also a good way to spread germs, right, Dr. Hunter?” I said, hoping he’d get the hint I wanted to feed myself. He nodded and began to eat.
Maybe I’d find feeding someone sensual, like the scene in
9 ½ Weeks
, but it would not be with Max. Luckily, he didn’t ask.
We engaged in small talk while we sampled the dishes. I had to ask for more water, because some of the dishes caused a fire to form in my mouth and down in my belly. I’d be sorry tomorrow.
At one point in the meal, Max excused himself to go the restroom, and I got a moment of much needed silence. Just like at speed dating, the guy talked about himself constantly, rarely asking me about myself. I knew this was not going to work out, and I just wanted to go home and get some rest for tomorrow night’s date with Ryan.
When he got back from the bathroom, I noticed Max sniffing and rubbing his nose with his hand several times. He also talked more animatedly than earlier, although he still only talked about himself.
“Do you feel okay? You seem like you might be coming down with a cold.” I hoped he’d say “yes” and end the date right then and there.
“I’m fine.” He paused for a moment, then leaned in to ask me a question. “Do you do cocaine?”
“No. Do you?” Judging by his question and his behavior I’d guess and say yes.
He had the tenacity to sit back and try to worm his way out of his admission. “I, uh, only do it for recreational purposes. I’m not an addict or anything.”
“Oh no, you’re not an addict. You’re high on a date right now! You take care of children for goodness sake!”
I couldn’t help it. Sara the woman had left the building and in her place sat Sara the psychologist. I wanted to run out of the restaurant, but I needed to confront him on this or I’d never forgive myself. I sat straight on my pillow and cranked the metaphorical switch in my brain to transform into counseling mode.