Juliette and the Monday ManDates

by Becky Doughty

  Frank cleared his throat. "Are you hungry? Shall we go in and eat?" Juliette nodded and he came around to her side to help her out.

  It was awkward at first, but she sensed he was really making an effort, so she tried a little harder herself. "I've wanted to eat here for years. I'm glad you chose it." Mike didn't like Japanese food.

  He helped her order, and they laughed at her bad pronunciations, but the food, when it came, was delicious. Once they got past the discomfort of the incident in the car, they got along fine the rest of the evening, sharing small talk about work, favorite vacation spots, and hobbies.

  After dinner, he took her to a local movie theater. Juliette was a little disappointed; it seemed rather cliché, and it all but eliminated the chance to get to know each other any better. The movie they watched, however, was not a typical date night movie, and when it was over, they headed to a bookstore that was open late, and enjoyed a stimulating discussion about the independent film over coffee and pastries.

  When he finally saw her to her front door, she could tell he wanted to be invited in, but she was ready to call it a night. After the movie, she'd sensed a shift in his attention, a closing in. She'd been able to ignore it in the bookstore, and enjoyed herself in spite of it, even though he made his intentions more and more obvious, but in the car he'd been the perfect gentleman, and she assumed he'd gotten the message.

  Apparently not. When she attempted to go inside, he reached for her hand.

  "Juliette, I want to kiss you. I've wanted to kiss you since you put on that bracelet. No," his voice turned to dark chocolate. "Since the moment I picked you up. You looked so beautiful holding those green roses. Come here." He pulled her toward him, but she resisted, never having been very keen on dark chocolate.

  "No, Frank. Thank you for the wonderful time tonight, but I'm really not ready for that."

  He stopped pulling but didn't release her. "I know you felt it too, when I touched you in the car. You don't have to be afraid of me, Phoebe."

  Strike three and you're out.

  "My name is Juliette, not Phoebe." She pulled her hand from his grip, and marched inside, closing the door on her date just a little harder than she'd done the week before.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “PHEBES, I'M SO SORRY. I've done it again." Juliette wailed into the phone when her sister answered.

  "Jules, calm down. What happened?"

  "I closed the door in Frank's face. I'm sorry. But he called me Phoebe."

  "He what? What a moron!"

  "And things seemed like they were going so well." She flopped backward on her bed and kicked her sandals off, rolling to the side quickly to avoid one that flipped out of control and landed on the pillow where her head had been a moment before. She grabbed it and threw it on the floor in frustration.

  "Do I need to come over?" Phoebe sounded tired; it was almost midnight.

  "No. I just wanted you to hear it from me before you heard it from him." She groaned. "I do not want to tell Renata that I failed again."

  "Then don't. You spent the whole evening with him, right?"

  "Yes." Juliette rolled onto her side, bunching her pillow under her head.

  "So you don't want to marry the guy. That's all right. Doesn't mean you failed. In fact, this means you get to go out on another Monday ManDate. Ren will be thrilled!"

  "Oh, say it isn't so!" Juliette couldn't bear the thought of another disastrous date.

  "Go to bed, Jules. This will all be funny in the morning."

  "Then you're not mad at me?"

  "For what? For putting old Frank in his place? Are you kidding?" Phoebe laughed. "Any man who calls a girl by her sister's name should be drawn and quartered. He's lucky to get off so easy." Then she paused. "Is that all he did, or did Frank cross a line? He's a little touchy-feely, but harmless, or so I thought. If you tell me otherwise, I'll kill him."

  "He was fine." Juliette's eyes roamed over the items on her bedside table, lingering on the Police Department card resting against the base of her lamp. "Yeah, a little touchy-feely, but nothing I couldn't handle."

  "Just getting frisky, was he?" Phoebe chuckled.

  "At one point I had to cut him off at the pass with a trip to the little girl's room."

  "The oldest escape route in the world," Phoebe drawled. "I didn't know you knew that one. Did it register?"

  "I thought it did, because he was slightly more reserved for the rest of the time we were there. But there was this one thing he did that really started to get to me." Juliette ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp as she relaxed, relieved beyond measure that she hadn't disappointed Phoebe. "He'd rest his hand on my low back to usher me in or out of doors, and then he'd leave it there until we were at our table or at the car, or even in line to purchase something. At first, it was kind of nice; gentlemanly, you know? But as the night wore on, I noticed he would press his hand in a little more firmly, making me walk closer to him." She grimaced as she remembered the weight of his palm against her spine. "I could feel his fingers spreading out, like an octopus, like he was trying to touch as much of me as possible."

  "Ew."

  "Yeah. Ew."

  "So? Did he try to kiss you?"

  "Ugh. You had to ask." Juliette groaned. "Yes. He told me that he knew I wanted to kiss him, too. How would he know that if I didn't know it myself?"

  "What a toad." Phoebe sighed on the other end of the line. "Bummer. I'm sorry things didn't end well. Did you at least have some fun tonight? Were you able to not think of Mike?"

  "Yes, I had some fun. I did think of Mike, but I didn't miss him. I was angry at him. Does that count? I was angry because he didn't take me to that restaurant, the Japanese one I've been dying to go to in forever. I was angry because it wasn't his hand on my back. And I was really angry because if he had married me, I wouldn't have to be working my way through the stupid Monday ManDates."

  "Hm. Not exactly what I was hoping for." Phoebe sighed. "You know they say that love and hate are two sides of the same coin. You're not still in love with him, are you?"

  "No. I didn't say that I hate Mike. I said I was angry with him. Kind of like I'm angry at the professor who just dropped a request on my desk for seventy semester workbooks to be made up for him by Wednesday, or like I'm angry at my backside when I happen to catch a glimpse of it, or like I'm angry at my neighbor who lets her little yapper-dog poop on my lawn and never picks it up. Why can't it poop on her lawn?"

  "You could always poop on her lawn."

  "Phoebe!" But it was just what Juliette needed to cheer her up. She chortled gleefully. "You never know. Maybe I'll do that one of these days."

  "Just don't tell me about it, okay? I refuse to be an accomplice to a crime like that."

  "You won't tell Ren, then?"

  "That you're going to defecate on your neighbor's lawn? Why would I tell her that?"

  "No! That my date with Frisky Frank was a flop!" Juliette rolled to her back, crossed her ankles and propped an arm behind her head.

  "Nope."

  "Thanks. Sorry I called you so late."

  "No problem, Jules. Je t'aime."

  "I love you, too, Phebes." She felt a little better about the evening, but she couldn't help wondering if perhaps she was too stiff, too conservative. Maybe she should have let Frank kiss her. Maybe she might have enjoyed it.

  She closed her eyes as she tried to imagine being kissed by Frisky Frank. His arms went around her, he dipped his head toward her, but when she tilted her face up, his features shifted. His hair darkened, his jaw filled out, and as his lips touched hers, she sighed pleasurably, a sound that ended in a little gasp as her eyes flew open.

  She'd just been kissed by Officer Jarrett. And she'd enjoyed it immensely.

  SHARON TOYED WITH JULIETTE's new bracelet. She brushed her fingers over it the way she imagined her friend had done and laughed again. It really was a beautiful piece of jewelry, and Sharon thought Frisky Frank was right when he convinced Julie
tte to wear it.

  "I wonder what your sisters are telling these guys. What are they saying to them that would convince them to take you out?"

  "Thanks. You make me sound like a freak." Juliette snatched the bracelet from her friend, returning it to her wrist. She turned it this way and that, loving the way it looked against her skin.

  "You know what I mean. And I'm serious. First dates are hard enough. Blind dates must be worse by far." Sharon leaned back in her chair and tipped her head slightly. "Take Frank for instance. He's known Phoebe for years, right?"

  "Mm-hm," Juliette said around a mouthful of pasta.

  "Well, was it really so terrible then that he would call you Phoebe? He must have had her on his mind all night, hoping he wouldn't let her down by letting you down. He had the pressure of trying to make both of you happy. And Thera-Paul? I almost think it was better that Ren told him something about the state you're in. At least he knew what his purpose was. But then, is that really fair to a guy?"

  "What do you mean?" Juliette frowned.

  "Well, doesn't that kind of demoralize them? It's a bit like slot-machine mentality. Put in a quarter, see what you get. If you don't like it, put in another quarter. There might be a keeper in there somewhere."

  "Ugh. I hadn't thought about it that way." What Sharon was saying did make some sense. "Do you think I should stop?"

  "Maybe that's what I'm asking you. There's something about this list thing that isn't sitting well with me. So," she shrugged. "I've been praying about it." She sat forward, took another bite of her sandwich, then a few moments later said, "If you decide to back out of this whole thing, I'll support you. I'll stand up to the G-FOURce for you."

  "Wait a minute. You just took me out clothes shopping last weekend." When Sharon talked about praying, or going to church, or any other aspect of her faith, Juliette's discomfort usually came out as belligerence.

  "I know. But I've thought about it a lot the last few days. Do these guys know they're just one of many on a list? And if they did know that, would they still agree to be on it?" Sharon took a quick breath and kept talking. "Are you really giving any of them a fair chance? Isn't this all about finding something 'better than Mike,' or at least taking your mind off him?"

  "You're using up all the oxygen again," Juliette muttered, taking a gulp of her iced tea. She didn't want to think of the feelings of the men on the list. They were there to make her feel better, not the other way around. But then, how selfish was that?

  Sharon reached over and tapped on the bracelet on Juliette's arm. "Look, Juju. I like that you're open to trying new things again. I don't want to discourage you from going out, okay? But it isn't like you not to consider the feelings of others. These guys are real people with real feelings. They may, in fact, be just as vulnerable as you are right now."

  "Do you think I should stop?" Juliette asked again.

  "I don't know. I guess I want you to think about your motivation, what you really want from this. And I'm a little worried about your heart, too. You still seem kinda vulnerable to me, Juju." She looked imploringly across the desk at Juliette. "Just don't fall in love with a guy before you know anything about him. Talk to his friends. Find out what you can about his family life. If he won't share his life with you before you marry, there's no reason to think he'll share it with you after the vows tie you to him." Sharon leaned back in her chair again, hands up in a sign of surrender. "There. Now I have used up all the oxygen so I'll shut up. I know you've heard it all before, but I can't tell you how glad I am that Chris and I were friends first. It made room for God at the center of things."

  "You never would have let a man come between you and God." Although she said it with some alacrity, Juliette couldn't help the twinge of jealousy darkening her thoughts. Not that she cared about God so much, as that she would have been happy with only half of what Sharon had with Chris.

  "Wrong, Juju. I would have put Chris there in a heartbeat, if I could have gotten away with it. Believe me, I tried." Her brow furrowed at the memory. "Chris wouldn't let me. He wouldn't marry me until he knew I was more committed to loving Jesus than I was to loving him."

  "How could he possibly know something like that?" Juliette scoffed at her friend's words. They reminded her of Frisky Frank insisting he knew she'd wanted to kiss him. "What did you do to prove it to him? Go to church with him? Read the Bible in front of him? Only listen to religious music around him? Because I know what you were listening to when you were with me, and it wasn't songs about Jesus."

  She saw the hurt in her friend's eyes, but the subject of God always made her want to lash out. At Sharon, of all people, though?

  "You're actually right, you know. I was trying to be a good little Christian girl, because it was the only way I could have Chris." She shook her head and smiled softly. "But there's no fooling God. He knew I still didn't really believe I needed Him, at least not as much as I thought I needed Chris. Somehow Chris figured it out, too. That's why he broke up with me right before the wedding, remember? He said he needed to make sure that we were following God's plan for our lives and not just our own."

  "We made that dart board out of his face."

  "Yep. And we made good use of it, too." Sharon chuckled. "Do you know what happened to it?"

  "You still have it?" Juliette was surprised to hear that.

  "I gave it to him for Christmas the first year we were married. But it looks a little different than it did the last time you saw it. Now it's so covered in little round bandages you can hardly see his face at all. Just one big brown eye peeking out from beneath a blanket of spots." She cupped a hand around her left eye like a telescope.

  "Bandages?"

  "One morning I woke up and started getting ready for my day. I tried to read my Bible, looking for answers in it, treating it like a magic lamp, you know? But I couldn't concentrate. So I just sat there, crying, begging God to make Chris choose me again. Then I heard something." She leaned forward, an intensity in her eyes that made Juliette want to squirm. "It wasn't a sound; just this instant awareness of a thought. ‘But I want Chris to choose Me. And I want you to choose Me.'" Sharon had a faraway look on her face as she relived that morning in her memory.

  "I realized at that moment that I had never really chosen Christ for myself. I was just going through the motions, thinking that was good enough. Something in me shifted, like a trapdoor or a skylight opening." Her voice got quiet, intense. "And there was this overwhelming desire to do just that; to put Sharon aside, and put Christ in her place." She took a deep breath, then met Juliette's eyes. "Instead of asking for Chris, I began to pray for him; that he would do the right thing no matter what the cost, even if it meant walking away from me forever. I didn't want to stand in the way of God; that became very clear to me." She smiled; her eyes bright with unshed tears. "And every time I prayed for him, I put a new bandage on his poor, punctured face."

  "And, poof! God gave Chris back to you." Her voice dripping with brutal sarcasm, Juliette cut her off, finishing the story for her. Sharon's words just confirmed to her what she'd always thought of God; He was cruel and selfish, fickle. "God, in His kindness and goodness, bribed you with the man you love. He took him from you so He could break you, then gave him back, but only after you sold out." This was the God she knew; the one who didn't play fair, because He didn't have to. He made the rules, so He could break them any time He wanted.

  "No, Juliette. No." Sharon shook her head emphatically, her voice pleading. "God didn't take Chris away from me. Chris made the decision to leave. And it wasn't because God made him do it; in fact, God gives us so much room, so much grace. We might have been all right had we not split up for those few months. But Chris just knew we were bound for trouble if we weren't both on the same page. He loved me, but he loved—loves—Jesus more. When I finally realized that, realized how much strength of character it took to choose God over me, it changed the way I saw myself." She shook her head, clearly trying to come up with the right words to
explain her experience.

  "I know it doesn't really make sense, but God didn't come to me in condemnation. He came to me in—in revelation. He showed me the condition of my heart and asked me if I was okay with it. When I saw how selfish I really was, especially when it came to Chris, I wanted to change. And do you know what? He answered both of our prayers, Juju, both mine and Chris's. The whole time I was asking God for Chris," she pressed a hand to her chest. "Chris was asking God for me, begging God to change my heart so he could come back to me. Remember that skylight I talked about? Now, it's like the whole roof has been ripped clean off. It's not perfect; it won't be until Heaven. But things are so much clearer when seen through the light of His love, instead of my own selfish love." She reached over and squeezed Juliette's hand. "Just don't settle, Juju. Okay? Hold out. Hold on."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “IT SOUNDS TO ME LIKE this Frank guy might have been a winner. Are you sure you don't want to go out with him again?"

  They sat companionably at Juliette's table, having made up over coffee. She couldn't tell if Renata was digging for more details or sincerely curious. "He was all right. He just wasn't really my type."

  "How will you know if someone's your type when you won't spend time getting to know him? How can you tell in just one date?" Renata sat with her legs crossed, one white-sneakered foot swinging back and forth, back and forth.

  "Hey. I only committed to working my way through The Monday ManDates. I never agreed to date any of them more than once, and I certainly never agreed to get to know any of them." Her acerbic answer made Renata's eyebrows arch, but Juliette ignored the perfectly-tweezed little things.

  "Okay, okay. So, next week's guy is one of Georgia's friends. I don't know much about him, except that he's in a rock band."

  "A rock band? Seriously?" Juliette stared aghast at her sister. "I'm afraid to ask. How old is he?"

  Renata shrugged. "I don't know. Georgia doesn't know either, but she assured me he's plenty old enough for you."