Life, Love, and a Polar Bear Tattoo

by Heather Wardell

  "So did you have that dinner with him?"

  I nodded, hoping against hope she'd drop the subject. I should have known better.

  "Was it just you and him?"

  I nodded again.

  Larissa put her glass down sharply on the table.

  "You didn't."

  I tried to buy myself some time by wiping up the bit of Larissa's chocolate martini that had escaped from her glass, but she didn't let me get away with it.

  "You went out with him?"

  "I couldn't figure out how to get out of it."

  "How about saying no?"

  "But I'd already said yes."

  Larissa was blazing. I'd known she'd be upset, but I hadn't expected this.

  "What the hell are you doing?

  "What do--"

  Larissa rolled on, not letting me get a word in. "How could you do something like that to Ian?"

  "I didn't do anything," I protested, starting to get angry myself. "He's a client. We just had dinner and a few drinks."

  "How naïve are you? That is not the guy to have any drinks with. He's bad news."

  I took a breath to respond, and was fortunately stopped by the arrival of our waitress. Since we were regulars at the place, she knew us, and chatted for a few minutes.

  After the waitress left us with our appetizers, Larissa began to pick halfheartedly at her shrimp cocktail. I stared sadly at my mussels, and imagined them all staring sadly back at me. After all, what did any of us have to be happy about?

  Larissa touched my hand, and I looked up. She looked about as happy as I felt.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get mad. It's just..."

  "I know, and I'm sorry too. I really didn't know how to get out of it."

  Larissa nodded. "I can see that." Then she rallied.

  "Well, tell me everything! How'd it go? What did he say? What did you say? Was he hitting on you? C'mon, I want details!"

  "I'd give you details, but someone keeps talking."

  We both laughed. I was so relieved that we were basically back to normal. I knew she wasn't pleased that I'd seen Kegan, but I would never have expected her to be. If she'd known about the Wonderland trip...

  Over our appetizers and main courses, and several martinis each, I gave Larissa nearly the full story about my outing with Kegan. She was especially interested in the whole 'smart girl, beautiful girl' thing.

  "He's just trying to make you forgive him so he doesn't have to feel bad."

  I shook my head slowly. "I honestly don't know. He seemed so shocked and horrified by what he'd said--"

  "The way everyone's been who's heard about it," Larissa interrupted.

  "True. But it didn't feel like he was trying to hide something. I really do think he felt bad about it."

  "Well, good," said Larissa, who, as the main person who'd helped me pick up the pieces after Kegan'd taken me apart, was well within her rights to want him miserable.

  "I guess," I said.

  Larissa's eyes widened. "Do you not want him to feel bad? I'd want him to be devastated. I do want him to be devastated."

  "It was so long ago..." I tried.

  Larissa slammed her hand down hard on the table, shaking all of our empty glasses and sending a ripple of heads snapping up across the restaurant.

  "I don't care," she said quietly but with tremendous force, "whether it was three decades ago or three minutes ago. He hurt you. He hurt you a lot. And I'm not sure you've ever really gotten over it. So don't bother trying to tell me it was a long time ago. Because I don't care. And if you can forgive him, then maybe I can't care about you."

  I stared at her in shock, and then my earlier anger resurrected itself.

  "Who asked you to? You're not my mother. I didn't ask for a lecture. Did I order a lecture?" I made a great show of pretending to look for a menu. "Were there lectures on the menu? 'Cause I don't think I asked for one. So why am I getting one?"

  Larissa downed her martini in one gulp then set the glass down on the table deliberately, her eyes never leaving mine, and reached for her purse. She pulled out some money, dropped it on the table, and stood up.

  "I won't lecture you any more. I'm leaving. Good luck to you. You'll need it."

  And with that, she turned and walked out of the restaurant, leaving her birthday present behind on the table.

  I sat in shock, waiting to know what to do. Should I go after her? Wait for her to come back? Call her cell phone and give her hell?

  In the end, I did none of these things. The waitress came by, and I told her that Larissa had had to leave suddenly. She expressed concern, and I told her I was sure everything would be fine. I paid the bill, picked up the gift basket of bath products that I'd bought for Larissa and set out on the walk home.

  Damn Kegan. Somehow he ruined everything every time.

  Larissa was my oldest friend. Had I just lost her over this?

  Well, it had been her fault anyhow. I was doing fine. I hadn't done anything wrong, so why had she been so angry? I could handle myself, and I could handle Kegan.

  A little voice inside me reminded me that I had very nearly let Kegan kiss me after dinner, and that his touch that morning had been overwhelming. We'd worked together for a few hours afterward as if nothing had happened, but every time our eyes met electricity zipped through me. There was no evidence at all that I could actually handle Kegan, and I was fast losing control over myself.

  I was passing Tim Horton's, and in a daze I turned in. I bought a cup of coffee and sat at a table, deep in thought.

  Why did Kegan still have such a hold on me? Was it simply that he was so good looking, so magnetic? It couldn't be just that. I could remember how I'd felt about Ian when we'd first gotten together, and it was as far from what I'd felt for Kegan as Ian was from me right now. Ian and I were meant to be together, but somehow I kept losing my connection with that.

  Maybe it was just my familiarity with Ian. We knew each other very well, and there weren't many surprises any more. I never quite knew what Kegan would do. Not always a good thing, frankly.

  I sipped my coffee, and suddenly felt cold and ill. I knew what it was. It was that god-awful comment about the smart girl and the beautiful one. Larissa was right, I'd never let that go. I couldn't believe that anyone, including Ian, really saw me as beautiful, because when someone said I was, I heard Kegan's voice saying I wasn't. The only time I didn't hear it was when Kegan complimented me.

  Larissa had been right. I grabbed my cell phone and tried to call her. The phone rang and rang. Since Larissa kept her cell phone with her at all times, she was obviously ignoring me. I laboriously sent a text message, so slow with that sort of thing that it would probably have been faster to send a carrier pigeon, to let her know that a) I was sorry, and b) she was right.

  By the time that was done, I'd finished my coffee. I threw out my paper cup and walked slowly to the door.

  So, now I knew what was causing me so much trouble.

  But how was I going to fix it?

  To: ianw@buildaid.com

  From: ninjacatrocks@hotmail.com

  Subject: New resident

  The bear has taken over the living room. Ninja loves it - he barely even got off its stomach to eat his dinner. I was afraid he was sick for a minute when he wouldn't come to eat, but he was just being lazy. Lazier.

  The hair is quite a bit shorter, and it has highlights. I got lots of compliments today - I hope you'll like it too!

  And as for Kegan, he's messed up my work schedule, got Lou all freaky, and just hearing his name makes Larissa crazy. He's by far more trouble than he's worth. By far.

  C

  Thursday, August 18th

  Kegan left me alone all day, and I was relieved. When I didn't see him, everything was fine. Even Lou's annoying parade of tasks was preferable to getting closer to Kegan, and I got a lot done, putting myself in a good mood by the end of the day.

  I'd sent out an email to my friends after my makeover suggesting that a b
unch of us should go together to get manicures and pedicures. Unfortunately, most hadn't been able to come along. Larissa had said she might, but after last night I rather doubted she'd be there. Tasha was the only one who'd been definitely up for it.

  As I left work and drove to Kristy Nails, I wondered if having nice pretty nails would help make me feel beautiful. I doubted it, but it couldn't hurt.

  I entertained myself imagining a 'self-concept' store, where I could go and just pick up a new one whenever my old one was tired, or didn't suit me any more, or just wasn't quite as positive and cheery as I would like.

  There'd be a salesgirl to help me choose. "And are we looking for beautiful, or brilliant, or average?"

  "Why would I want average?"

  "Some people do. It can be nice for a change."

  "No, I want to believe I'm brilliant and attractive too."

  "Ah, the 'Beauty and Brains' bundle. I have it right here."

  And she'd install it for me, get it all tuned up and ready to go, and there I'd be.

  This whole rebuilding my self-concept after Kegan was a long and tedious process, and apparently I wasn't even close, even though I'd thought I was finished. 'Work in progress' wasn't exactly the kind of image to which I was aspiring.

  Better than 'disaster zone', though, I supposed.

  Poor Kristy definitely thought I was a disaster zone when I arrived. As the owner, she generally didn't take clients, but when she saw my hands she began shouting orders in Japanese and a flurry of activity resulted, ending in me ensconced in a pedicure chair with my feet and fingertips soaking in basins of warm scented water.

  "How long since you last have pedicure?" Kristy demanded.

  I hedged, trying to figure out how to say 'Right before I got married' without sounding like I didn't take care of myself.

  "Look like years," Emily said, leaning over her boss's shoulder to inspect the horrors that were my feet.

  I looked noncommittal. Both Kristy and Emily shook their heads in shock and disgust.

  By the time Tasha showed up, ten minutes late for her appointment and about five minutes before I'd expected her to manage to arrive, Kristy had scrubbed my feet so hard that I was afraid she'd exposed bone, and Emily had managed to get my fingernails smooth and shaped.

  Tasha's nails were inspected, pronounced not quite as bad as mine but still in desperate need of care, and she was soon settled in the chair next to mine.

  "You look great! The hair's amazing."

  "Thanks," I said, smiling. "It was time for a change."

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then she said, "You have the vibration on?"

  "The... pardon?"

  Tasha held up a small black box that was sitting on the arm of my chair. "The chair does massage. Try it."

  I took the box and tried to decipher the little symbols. One looked like a collection of ocean waves, one was just a bunch of dots, and one was a very large wave. Tasha started her own chair going, and closed her eyes as she leaned back into it.

  "Better than sex."

  "If you say so." I gingerly pressed the dot button. The chair began spasming, poking me in the back and the back of my legs alternately. Yuck. I switched to the large wave.

  Ah, much better. The chair stroked smoothly all the way down my back to the underside of my knees and then started again at the top. I sighed.

  "See? Better than sex."

  "More accessible, anyhow, these days," I mumbled, rolling my neck slightly as the chair worked its miracles on the knots in my back.

  "When does Ian come home again?"

  "A week and a bit. Next Saturday."

  "Bet you can't wait."

  "You're so right. Hey, how's your..." I said, accompanying the words with an imitation of the vague gesture Tasha had used to describe her intended piercing.

  "Took it out."

  "Bummer. How come?"

  "It didn't want to heal, and it was all sore and swollen and--"

  "Keep the details to yourself, okay?"

  "You asked!"

  "Not for the full report, just for how it was doing."

  "Hey, I didn't tell you about the pus, or the bleeding, or--"

  "I will barf on your newly painted toenails if you keep this up," I threatened, not entirely in jest. Then I realized what would really distract her. "Did I tell you I went back there and got a tattoo?"

  Tasha stared at me. "You know you didn't tell me any such thing. And I know you're just trying to make me stop grossing you out. I'll let you get away with it, though. Did you really get one?"

  "Yup."

  "What? Where? How big? How was it?"

  "Polar bear looking up at a star, on my lower back, about this big," I said, stretching out my fingers to show the approximate size, "and it hurt kind of a lot but it was okay."

  "Wow." Tasha shook her head, staring at me in amazement. "I'd never have the nerve to get a tattoo."

  *****

  When we were manicured and pedicured to within an inch of our lives, we decided to take ourselves and our lovely new nails out for dinner. Tasha wanted to go to Setherwood, but I couldn't face it after my disastrous dinner with Larissa, so I suggested we go to Nests, the hot new restaurant just down the street. The too-hip-to-associate-with-the-likes-of-us waitress gave us our menus, took our drink order with a clear sense of disdain, and left us alone to decide what we wanted to eat.

  She returned with the drinks and stood waiting to take our order with an air of already knowing that we would choose just the wrong thing. I wasn't actually ready, but I couldn't bring myself to send her away. I was convinced we'd never see her again.

  "Go ahead," I said to Tasha as I frantically scanned the menu.

  "I'll have the maple cream soup to start, then the robin soufflé, and an order of alphagetti on the side."

  The waitress and I stared at her, me in astonishment and the waitress with surprisingly little surprise.

  "Perhaps you have us confused with another restaurant," she said, icicles in her voice. "We do not serve alphagetti."

  But they served robin soufflé? I raised an eyebrow quizzically at Tasha.

  "Sorry," she said, sounding just the opposite. "I've always wanted to order something completely random and see what happened."

  What happened was that the waitress pursed her lips and leaned back as if to avoid being contaminated by us, and I gave Tasha a "don't get us kicked out" glare.

  "All right, fine," she said. "I'd like the soup and the soufflé. I'll just have to get my alphagetti later."

  The waitress turned to me, barely acknowledging Tasha's order. "And for you?"

  "I... ummm... the carrot soup first, please, and then the filet mignon, cooked medium-well, please, with a baked potato."

  "Very well," the waitress said in a 'Lord, what fools these mortals be!' tone, and turned away, no doubt to complain about us to the other staff.

  I shook my head at Tasha. "You're a crazy person."

  "Maybe, but it's fun. Hey, speaking of fun, and crazy for that matter, we need Larissa here. Should I call her?"

  She was already whipping out her cell phone. I winced.

  "No?"

  I shook my head. "No, better not. We had a... difference of opinions last night. I'm not sure she really wants to see me."

  "Oof. What about?"

  "Ummm.... because I went out for dinner with Kegan."

  "You what?" I hadn't met Tasha until after Kegan and I had broken up, so she didn't have the same hatred of him as Larissa did. Still, she'd heard enough about him from Larissa to know he wasn't good news.

  "Please don't you get mad at me too, I can't take it."

  Tasha took a very deep breath and closed her eyes. I could see her lips moving as she slowly counted to ten. Then eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

  She opened her eyes. "Okay, I'm calm now."

  "Why'd you go to thirteen?"

  "'Cause sometimes ten just isn't enough. Why on earth would you go out with him? How'd you e
ven find him?"

  I was sure I'd told Tasha about my new relationship with Kegan when she and I had gone to the tattoo place, but she said, "Yeah, but I thought it was just the work thing. I had no idea you were going out with him."

  "I'm not!"

  "Aren't you?"

  "Of course not."

  I explained the whole long story, leaving out our Wonderland trip and the way I reacted to his touch just as I had when I'd talked to Larissa. By the time I was finished talking, we'd both eaten our dinners and were casting covetous glances at the dessert trolley as it was wheeled around.

  Tasha nodded slowly. "I get it. Gotta say I kind of agree with Larissa."

  "Yeah, me too," I confessed. "I didn't at first, but I thought about it and she's totally right."

  "So now what?"

  "So now I don't see him again."

  "But..."

  "I know. I'll wrap up the restaurant stuff over email as much as possible, make sure I meet with him with a bunch of people if I actually have to see him, and hurry up and finish the job. Then no more Kegan, ever."

  Tasha looked at me speculatively, and I cringed inside, sure she was going to point out the many flaws in my little plan, but all she said was, "Shall we flag down Ms. Snooty and get dessert?"

  To: ianw@buildaid.com

  From: ninjacatrocks@hotmail.com

  Subject: I have lovely new nails!

  Tasha and I went to get our nails done today after work. All twenty. Forty, I guess, if you add us up.

  Mine are bright pink and hers are turquoise. Yes, turquoise. No, I don't know why.

  Ninja is now ignoring me in favor of the rug. He won't even sit with me when I'm on the couch. I have my crocheting but it's not the same. I need a hug.