“Going out? With who? Is this the mystery man…?”
Rolling my eyes I said, “It’s no mystery, mom. We’re going to dinner and a concert.”
“What’s his name?”
I sighed, “Justin.”
“Justin?”
“Not that one, Mom. This Justin is not a drug dealer. Now, where do you want me to order in from for you?”
“Where is he taking you?”
“I told you, dinner and a concert.”
“Where are you going to dinner? Where a man chooses to take you says a lot about him.”
“I wish you would have told me that years ago, Mother. That way when my last boyfriend took to Compton with him and we had dinner at his “connections” home…if you could even call it that, I may have gotten a little suspicious.”
“I was trying to make conversation. How did you get so sarcastic?”
“I’m sorry. You’re right, Mom. I don’t want to fight. You decide what you want for dinner while I take a shower and I’ll call it in for you before I go.”
I went into my room, joyously closing her out. She could ruin my peace quicker than anyone else I knew. I’m sure it’s just because I spent the bulk of my life wishing I had a “normal” mother like everyone else and I still harbor just a little bit of resentment towards her because of that. I shook off my annoyance at her and picked out a new pair of jeans and a nice sleeveless green blouse that I’d bought with them. I took my shower and while I was blow-drying my hair, my mom knocked on the door.
“Yes?”
“I’m not really hungry yet, honey. Maybe you can just leave me twenty bucks for a pizza?”
I hated leaving her cash. It was like having PTSD. My mind went back to the days that any cash she got her hands on…even if it came from her daughter’s wallet went for drugs or alcohol. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that so far, the time she’d been here she had seemed sober. I couldn’t watch her like a hawk twenty-four seven. I was going to have to trust her.
“Okay, Mom. That’s fine,” I told her. I finished drying my hair and then I straightened it. I put on a little make-up, some liner and mascara to bring out my pale eyelashes and a little powder to color the bright white of my skin. I wore a pair of short boots that just covered the bottom of my jeans. When I finished, I took one last look…I didn’t look too bad.
When I walked out into the living room my mom said, “Oh my God Jessie! You are gorgeous, baby!”
“Thanks Mom,” I told her. The compliment was sweet, but there was that trust factor again. I never really knew when to take her seriously. I really wish that we had a “normal” mother/daughter relationship, but the fact was that we don’t. I had to learn to deal with it. I went over to my purse and took out a twenty and a ten. I left them on the table and told her to order what she wanted.
“Thank you, baby. I hate asking you for money for every little thing. I’m gonna pay you all of this back just as soon as I can.”
“I’m not worried about it, Mom. I just want to help you get back on your feet.” That was true. I did want to see her do well. It was just hard after all of the failures to believe it was ever going to happen.
The doorbell rang then and I saw her run her fingers through her hair and smack her lips a little. Some things never changed, she was always “on” for a man. I opened the door and Justin was standing there in a blue denim shirt unbuttoned just enough at the top so it showed a little
chest but not so much that he looked like a bouncer called Tony. His jeans fit him nicely and I had to tell myself not to gawk.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” he said with that smile that made you want to just eat him up with a spoon. “You look really…really nice.”
“Thanks, you too. Come in, I just have to grab my purse.” He stepped inside and I said, “Justin this is my mom, Lynn.”
Mom tossed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled. I could tell that she thought he was good-looking without her saying a word. I’m sure that he could too. She was looking at him like she was about to pounce. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Justin.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he said, shaking the hand she extended.
“Why don’t you have a seat here with me while Jessie gets her things together?”
“No things, Mom. Just my purse.”
“So what do you do, Justin?”
“I got it…we can go now.” Poor Justin was torn. The gentleman in him wanted to sit down with her, I could tell. He just had no idea what he was getting into. If he sat down, she would know exactly how much not only he but both of his parents made last year inside of five minutes.
“Maybe we can talk another time, Lynn?”
“I would love that,” she said. “My daughter is a fabulous cook. Maybe next time you can have dinner here with us?”
“That sounds great,” he said with a wink in my direction.
“Okay Mom, lock the door behind us and have a good night.”
“You kids be good,” Mom said. It was a comment riddled with undertones. Just as I was headed out the door she whispered, “He’s hot, baby.”
All I could do was hope that he didn’t hear her. I should be used to her embarrassing me by now, but maybe it was a thing a person never really got used to. I was surprised when he led me out to a gray Honda. Thinking he was joking I looked around the parking lot for that lifted four-wheel drive truck.
“This is your car?” I asked him.
He grinned, “Yeah. I lied about the truck.”
I slid into the seat as he held the door. I was putting on my seatbelt when he got in on the driver’s side. “Why?”
He put on his seatbelt and started the car. Then he said, “Because I was trying to impress you. I honestly didn’t think you would agree to go out with me and then you’d never know I fibbed.”
“Why?”
He laughed, “Are you a three year old in disguise?” he asked, jokingly. “Why? Why? Why?”
“Seriously, why would you think I wouldn’t go out with you?”
“I just assumed you would tell me that you were already seeing someone. Or you wouldn’t think I was in your league…or even in the ball park. It’s hard to imagine why you’re not already taken. You’re gorgeous and from the little time I’ve spent with you, you seem smart and funny. You’re a catch,” he was grinning, but his words struck me as sincere. I felt my face go hot and I knew that it was the color of my hair.
“Thank you.” Trying to change the subject so that I wasn’t the center of it, I said, “So when did you decide you really wanted to be a runner…like full-time?”
“When I was about twelve. My dad ran the Boston Marathon and he came in third. It was the coolest thing…I was so proud of him and I wanted to be just like him.”
“Does he still run?”
“No. He wore out his knees. He’s had both of them along with his left hip replaced.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. That’s why I train…I want to run smart and make my body last. I’m going to retire before I start falling apart. Back in his day runner’s ran…period.”
“Smart idea,” I told him.
“What about you? What made you want to be a trainer?”
“I’ve always been kind of into nutrition and fitness. I guess it gave me something positive to focus on when I was a kid. When I was deciding what to major in I tried to go for something that would make me happy, and this does. It’s a really gratifying feeling to help someone learn how to make their body work for them.”
“I bet,” he said. As we turned onto Sunset Blvd. he said, “I have another confession to make.”
“Another?”
“Yeah, you know…how I’m not a tough guy with a big truck?”
Laughing, I said, “Uh oh, this sounds serious.”
“It’s been received well in some circles, and very, very badly in others.”
“You’re gay?” I was kidding, but it would take a little of the pressure
off of me if he was.
With a straight, serious face he said, “No, but I’ve been accused of it…I’m a vegan.”
“Huh! The horror!” I was still laughing. “You were so serious; I really thought you were going to tell me you were transgender or something.”
“Whew! Nothing that serious,” he said. “Being vegan is a hard thing for a man to admit sometimes. People are so judgmental and they want to put a label on everything and everybody. Don’t let my food choices scare you away though. This restaurant is great and the things on the menu that aren’t vegan are highlighted so it’s easy for “normal” people to order.”
“What makes you think I’m not vegan too?”
“Are you?” He looked hopeful.
“No, but how did you know I wasn’t?”
He pulled up in the valet parking area and turned to me and said, “Because then you would be just too damned perfect to be real.” While I waited for him to come around and open the door, I wondered which one of us was too damned perfect.
The restaurant was located inside of an old theatre. The ambience was incredible and we were seated way in the back near a huge, beautiful stone fireplace. We were inside, but with all of the plants and the subtle lighting it had kind of an outdoor feel to it. It was definitely one of the nicer places I’ve ever been, but at the same time no one seemed to be too dressed up so those of us who wore our new jeans didn’t feel uncomfortable.
We skipped the wine list and both ordered a beer. Justin was right; the menu was easy to read. I followed the highlights at first, but decided since I really did love vegetables and I’d be a little uncomfortable eating meat…even fish, in front of a vegan. I was going to go with the buffalo cauliflower and a veggie pizza. Justin seemed amused by that. He ordered some kind of mushroom thing that actually looked incredibly good when it was served.
“You want to try some?” he asked when he noticed me staring at it.
“No, mine is fine, thanks. It looks really good.”
“It’s delicious,” he said, taking a bite. I took a bite of mine and I have to say that I think I fell in love. It was hardly recognizable as cauliflower and it was more packed with flavor than any steak I’d ever eaten.
“Wow! That’s amazing!”
“Ah! She’s coming over to the dark side,” he said with a grin.
“Maybe not just yet. Sometimes I just have to have a steak. So why are you a vegan?” I asked him.
“I’m compelled to launch into a litany of how it protects the earth and the animals that inhabited it long before we were here…but I won’t,” he said with a grin. “I love animals, don’t get me wrong. But, I became a vegan for purely selfish, and some might say vain reasons. Plant based diets….those that are well planned are rich in protein, iron, calcium…on and on and on. Lots of good stuff. They’re low in saturated fat, high in fiber, anti-oxidants…Once I started this diet I was suddenly more energetic because I slept so well at night, my skin looks amazing and I started packing on the muscle. It helped me start winning marathons and that was always the main goal.” I don’t know how I was looking at him but he suddenly laughed and said, “I’m sorry. TMI?”
“No. You’re just so well-informed about your diet. That’s great. It’s not what I normally see with people that I train.”
“My parents are both very health conscious and they raised us kids to be the same, so that helped a lot.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Five sisters and a brother.”
“Oh my God, seriously?”
He laughed, “Yeah, the vegan diet worked great for dad too, I guess.”
“I don’t have any siblings.” I often wished I did. When it came to my mother a little help would have been nice. Then I think about wishing her on someone else and I feel a little bad…not for Mom, but the other person.
“It’s fun sometimes, a pain in the ass others,” he said. “I love the holidays with all the chaos and noise of us all being together. I wouldn’t know what to do without that. But there are times when you just want to disappear from the world for a day or two…I can’t ever shut down without a sibling or two calling to make sure I’m alive.”
I laughed. “It would have to be nice to know you’re cared about that much though, right?”
“It is, yes. I’m just as guilty of calling them as they are calling me too, especially my sisters. I worry about them.”
There was that sister thing again, reminding me of Paul. I changed the subject again and said, “So where is your next marathon?”
“San Francisco,” he said.
“Oh that’ll be fun. I love San Francisco.”
“Me too. I love Pier 39 and the Giants and even the 49ers. I went out and took the Alcatraz tour last time I was up there too. That’s definitely worth a trip. I could just go and walk around all day. It’s such a pretty city. You know what the best part is though?”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I can eat vegan there without any fear of being judged.”
He laughed as I said, “After tasting it tonight, I will never judge again.”
Dinner was delicious and our conversation was so comfortable and easy. There was nothing forced or anxiety provoking about it at all. I wondered what was wrong with me. Why did I seem to seek out the guys like Paul…and the other Justin…the guys who had problems, the ones who needed “fixing?” I have no idea, but what I do know is that as gorgeous as this guy is and athletic and obviously smart and funny…I don’t feel attracted to him in the same sense as I do Paul. Not even on the same plane. There is definitely something not right in my head.
We went to the concert after dinner and Need to Breathe was amazing just as I knew they would be. The seats were great and Justin bought us matching t-shirts when he went out to use the bathroom. It was an awesome night…the best one I’d had in a while. Yet when we got back to my apartment and Justin walked me to the door. I knew that I couldn’t kiss him. It wouldn’t be fair to him because all I could still think about after all of that was Paul. When he leaned in to kiss me, I turned my head and he caught me on the cheek.
I could see the hurt in his eyes, but proving what a great guy he is all he said was, “Thank you for going tonight, Jessie. I had a really good time.”
“Thank you. So did I.”
“I’ll see you at the gym,” he said with a smile. His eyes still looked sad. I felt terrible as I watched him walk back to the car. When I turned and opened the front door, I nearly knocked my nosy mother over.
“What are you doing?”
“Why didn’t you let him kiss you?”
“Mother! That is really not your business. Were you standing here looking out the window this whole time?”
“Yes.” She didn’t even sound a little bit ashamed of herself. “Why didn’t you kiss him? He’s so handsome. Was he a creep tonight, or what?”
“No, Mom. He was a perfect gentleman. I had a really nice time. Why I didn’t kiss him is really not your business. You don’t know how I’m feeling….”
“I’d have brought him back inside and…”
“Stop! Just stop there, Mom, okay? I know what you would do. I’m going to bed, goodnight.”
She was shaking her head at me, likely wondering what the hell was wrong with the daughter she had raised. She seems to forget…or not even see how different we are sometimes.
CHAPTER THREE
I was at work the next day, going about my business working with a client that Sam had referred to me. This one was a woman so at least I didn’t have to worry she was going to hit on my like Mark or ask me out like Justin. Not that going out with Justin had been bad; it was just the opposite as a matter of fact. It had been so nice that I was still thinking about it and hoping I got a chance to see him to thank him again and apologize for blowing him off at the front door. The more I thought about that, the worse I felt about it.
My client, Tanya and I were working on her upper body. She’s a tennis pl
ayer and in really good shape, but she wanted to work on getting more strength in her arms. I left her on the bicep/triceps machine and went in the back to get some free-weights. Greg was on the mats with a guy I’d never seen before. He was built like a fighter and had a lot of tats. Of course I was instantly reminded of Paul and the day he and I worked on his ground game. I was mad at him that day, but that hadn’t made being that close to him any less of an erotic experience. I’m sure Greg wasn’t feeling the same thing…at least for his wife’s sake, I hoped not. I laughed out loud at the thought and Greg looked up at me and raised an eyebrow.
“Are we doing it wrong?” he said with an amused expression.
“Oh no. I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else completely. Please! I would never dare correct the way you did anything…”
He laughed, “Calm down, Jessie. I was joking. Devon this is Jessie. She is one of my most dedicated employees. She’s here when I arrive and back before I get here in the morning. Sometimes I think she might be living here.”
“The Madison Gym ghost,” Devon said. He smiled and stood up. Swiping his palm against the white shorts that stood out against his mocha skin he held his hand out towards me. “I’m pleased to meet you, Jessie.”
I shook his hand and said, “Devon Rafter?”
“That’s me,” he said. His vanity shone through for a second as he grinned and said, “I guess my reputation precedes me.”
“Um…yeah. I’ve heard about how good you are. You guys are working on the ground game, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m a boxer at heart, but even the greatest need to switch it up every so often, you know? I have a really important fight coming up on Friday to defend my title.”
“Friday? Who are you fighting?”
“Paul Delport. You know him?” I was hoping the look on my face didn’t tell it all. What the hell? Maybe Devon just didn’t know Paul had taken off.
“Have you talked to Paul lately?” she asked.
“No, but my manager talked to his yesterday, why?” I didn’t answer right away so Greg said, “Jessie was probably just wondering because it’s been about a week since any of us have heard from him. He was coming in everyday…maybe he found a new place to work-out.”
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