“I’m going to head home,” Shirley said with finality. “It’s been fantastic fun, but I’m worn out! I’ll see you ladies tomorrow for our shopping date.”
They hugged good-bye. Marcus was waiting by the door, and said something to Sally as she was leaving. Sally looked startled and then burst into a peal of laughter before running out to catch her taxi. Marcus looked up to see Olivia, and his face, momentarily flustered, was composed once more. Soon Olivia found herself in a desperate make-out session with him in the back seat of an Uber. “You’ll come up to my place, won’t you?” he asked breathlessly as they parted for a moment.
“I…I don’t know if I should…”
“Please, Olivia. I’m begging you.”
“Don’t beg.”
“Don’t make me.”
“All right then.”
The Uber stopped in front of an upscale downtown apartment building, and the couple tumbled out. They made out in the lobby, the elevator, the doorway, and then the bed, where the act—though vigorous—was over too quickly for Olivia’s satisfaction, who nonetheless fell into an alcohol-infused sleep.
~~~~~~~~~
Her head was pounding as she awoke. Through blurred eyes she saw that the clock read 8:20am. Marcus lay next to her, asleep. She smiled. His lashes lay against his fair skin and he looked practically angelic, in spite of the small snore that occasionally escaped his lips. Getting up carefully so as not to awake him, she looked around in amazement. The apartment was fantastic; a testimony to avant-garde architecture, with wide windows that looked out onto the city of Tulsa with breathtaking scope and grandeur, if a small city in Oklahoma could properly be called grand.
Tiptoeing to the bathroom, she quickly used the toilet and then got busy removing the rings beneath her eyes that the eyeliner had left. That was better.
Not bad at all for a wild night, she thought. Maybe she could make Marcus some breakfast in bed. Maybe they could have a do-over from the night before. The thought brought color to her cheeks. Yes, she would wake him up with breakfast in bed and they would take their time. First, however, she simply had to find some Tylenol; her head demanded it more with each passing moment.
Opening the medicine cabinet, she saw the familiar red and white bottle and reached for it. It was right next to the Midol.
The Midol?
Yes, there it was; a sudden sensation of dread swept through her body.
Calm down. She told herself. It’s probably just left over from some past girlfriend.
Shutting the cabinet, she stood for a moment, uncertainty washing over her in sickening waves in spite of her reasonable assumption. Gulping down four of the headache pills, she turned to leave the bathroom, and her eyes fell upon the closet door. Marcus mumbled in his sleep and rolled over. She crossed the bedroom, her feet making no sound in the deep carpeting, and she pulled the door open.
She stared.
Women’s clothing. Everywhere. Lining every wall, shoes scattered on the floor, purses neatly hung in a row.
The dread became coldness, and she turned slowly towards the bed.
“Marcus?” she said, her voice sounding faint and far away. No response.
“Marcus!”
The form on the bed rolled over and the eyes blinked open.
“Yeah? What?”
“Whose…whose clothes are these?”
“Oh, those,” he shut his eyes again and waved a hand dismissively. “They’re my wife’s.”
“Your wife’s?” Incredulous, her mouth hung open.
“Yeah, my wife’s. Don’t worry, she’s out of town for a week.”
“Out of—what? How could you…how could you not tell me?”
“You didn’t ask, babe,” he chuckled. “And it hardly seemed the right time, you know what I mean?”
Where were her clothes? Standing there, naked before him, she felt utterly filthy. There, on the bedside chair. She pulled the dress over her head, never mind the underclothes…she stuffed those in her purse which was lying nearby. She could not get her boots on quickly enough.
“You didn’t think telling me that you were married was important? You bastard!”
“Hey now, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Marcus said, rising from the bed and stretching languidly. “Don’t get all bent out of shape.”
He crossed to her and tried to take her hands in his but she snatched them away, shaking all over.
“Don’t touch me!”
“You didn’t mind last night.”
“I have to go. I have to go right now.”
“Let me call you a cab.”
“No! Don’t do anything! I’m gone. I was never here. I did not exist, do you understand? This whole thing never happened.”
Striding across the room she threw the front door open and ran to the elevator, which took its time in coming.
“Come on! Don’t be like that!” he pleaded, wrapping a sheet around himself as he chased after her.
“I thought you were someone else,” she said simply.
“I don’t apologize for who I am.”
“Maybe you should start.”
The chime sounded and the doors slid open.
“Give your friends my number. Maybe they’ll be more sensible,” Marcus said, a parting shot that stung almost as much as everything else together.
Safe within the taxi, the tears came, streaming down her face. The cab driver was a burly, sympathetic man who told her there were plenty more men out there for a pretty girl like her but it did no good; she cried all the way home and then some.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh my god. And I thought he was joking!” Sally exclaimed, after Olivia’s story tumbled out.
“What about?” Olivia asked, wiping her eyes.
“As I was leaving the bar…Marcus, he propositioned me. Told me a threesome would be fun. I totally thought he was teasing me!”
“Definitely wasn’t teasing you. Now that I remember, he was asking about you guys earlier in the evening also.” The memory of the question, and of her naiveté was painful.
“Really?” Shirley was incredulous.
“Really,” Olivia nodded. “What a player! Oh, I feel so damned embarrassed.”
“Come on, honey. New heels will make everything better.”
Sally was all sympathy, her brow furrowed with worry as she patted Olivia on the back. Shirley stood close-by, holding her hands in her own and patting them. They were both appalled at the behavior of Marcus, and assured her repeatedly that she had done nothing wrong. Although Olivia knew there was truth in the consolation, she did not excuse herself.
“I should have known…I should have known a nice guy would never go to bed with a drunk girl…and I should have at least figured out who I was with before I just tumbled into bed with him!
“And it wasn’t even that good,” Sally shook her head and sighed. “That’s just inexcusable.”
“Sally!” Shirley protested. “As if good sex would have made this in any way better.”
“I know, I know, but still…”
“Still nothing. Come on, Livie, you have to get past this. You have to forgive yourself. You live and you learn, right?”
“I certainly have learned. I have learned not to trust any man, at all, any more, for the rest of all time. They’re all pigs!”
“No!” both of her friends said in unison.
“That’s most definitely not the lesson here,” Shirley said. “The lesson is to be just a little more wary in the future. Don’t give your heart away quite so quickly. And maybe don’t drink quite so much next time.”
“I was pretty drunk.”
“You were.”
“Ugh. I’m so embarrassed!”
“Hey now. We’ve all been there, Livie. We’ve all walked the walk of shame at some point. No saints here. Come on now, let’s go shopping and let us take you to lunch, huh?”
Olivia nodded and went to wash her face.
At the shopping center, they stopped in at the
cooking and home goods stores first, then headed for their favorite shoe shop. As they entered, Olivia almost bumped into a tall blonde man on his way out.
“Excuse me,” she said.
“Olivia?”
“Dolf! Oh my goodness, I didn’t even look up, did I?” she said, flushing with embarrassment.
“No worries,” he smiled and turned to the other two women. “Hi there, I’m Dolf.”
“Yes, sorry; this is Sally, and this is Shirley,” she said. He shook each hand in turn, shifting the bag he held to his left hand to do so.
“Hey, did you buy some shoes?” Sally said, nodding at the logo on the package.
“Uh, yes!” he answered, and his ruddy cheeks grew momentarily redder. “It’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow. She loves shoes.”
“Show us what you got!” Shirley exclaimed. “We’re just about to do some shopping therapy ourselves. They always have the greatest heels!”
“And boots,” Sally said.
“Oh sure, have a look,” Dolf said, opening the bag and drawing out the shoebox. “You can tell me whether I chose well.”
Inside the box were a pair of kitten heels in a lovely shade of pink. A dainty bow perched on the back of each shoe. Sally let out a small squeal as Dolf shut the box with a snap.
“Those are adorable,” she said. The other two women nodded in agreement.
“Well, I’ll let you do your shopping,” he said, and gave Olivia a quick hug before turning and striding down the sidewalk. “See you, Olivia.”
“Wow, so that’s Dolf,” Shirley said, fanning herself slightly. “He’s hot as a firecracker!”
“You’re telling me!” Sally said, giving Olivia a small shove. “What gives? You said he was okay not gorgeous!”
“I don’t know,” Olivia said, feeling more conflicted and depressed than ever. “I didn’t know what he thought of me, so it was moot. I still don’t know what he thinks of me. It’s been three weeks since our date.”
“Oh honey, he was just in a hurry. I’m sure he’ll give you a call soon.”
“He wouldn’t if he knew about last night.”
“What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him. Besides, it’s not like you cheated on him. You guys aren’t dating or anything. Yet.”
“Yeah, I just mean the walk of shame and all. I have a feeling he’d be…pretty disappointed.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed and shrugged. “Maybe because I’m disappointed in myself. But maybe he’d be fine with it. I don’t know anything anymore!”
“Well, one thing’s for sure; he has great taste in shoes!”
“Another thing,” Sally said with a small smile. “His mom has enormous feet!”
They laughed together at the observation and went inside, where Olivia bought the perfect pair of red heels to cheer her dismal mood.
THREE
“Woman, you drive me crazy,” he muttered, pulling her into an embrace. She pressed against his chest, ear to his heart, listening to its steady, reassuring thump. “You’ll never know how much.”
“I could say the same for you,” she answered, intertwining her fingers behind his neck. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. God, he smelled good! He groaned and hugged her tighter as she ran her tongue over the skin just below his ear, then opened her mouth.
“Stop!” he laughed, pulling away slightly. “Can’t show up on set tomorrow with a hickey.” He brought her lips to his own instead and kissed her until she was breathless. Fingering the buttons on her shirt, he deftly maneuvered her out of it, caressing her skin with his warm, broad hands. Next was her bra, and as his hand found the clasp—
“Mommy!”
—as his hand found the clasp—
“Mommy!”
Olivia’s eyes snapped open in the darkness. The shadowy form standing next to the bed was diminutive and familiar.
“Mommy, I had a nightmare.”
“Okay honey,” she croaked, lifting Bradley into bed beside her and drawing the comforter up around them both. “Go back to sleep now.”
“I love you, Mommy,” he whispered, yawning hugely. In two minutes he was snoring softly. Olivia sighed and rolled over, closing her eyes and falling into a—tragically—dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~
It was late September, and the kids were back in school. The weather slowly turned from oppressive to bearable, and Olivia planned Bradley’s birthday on the patio while the kids played. She hadn’t gone out since the night at the honky-tonk a month before, and she wasn’t about to try again. Men could just jump off a cliff, she thought. Literally. She thought of Dolf then, and felt a pang of remorse. Still, he never had called her back, and she’d pretty much given up on the idea of him ever being interested in her.
But why hadn’t she just called him? It wasn’t like they were living in the 1800’s or something. She didn’t need permission from anyone to call a man and ask him out. Maybe she was just too passive after all, as Jacob had often accused her.
She shook her head in frustration and doodled a flower in her notebook next to the guest list for the party. The kids played on the swing set a few yards away.
“Hey Bradley,” she called. “Do you want Jonathon to come to your party?”
“No,” he stated. “I don’t like Jonathon anymore. He put a booger on me in the bus!”
“Well, that’s gross.”
“But Sally and Shirley can come, if you want to invite them.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“Don’t be fooled, Mom. He just wants more presents. Hey Bradley,” Beatrice said, turning to her brother as she twisted in the swing. “Why don’t you tell Mom about your girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?”
Bradley stuck his tongue out at his sister, but he flushed bright.
“I don’t have a girlfriend!” he protested.
“What about Jeana?”
“Jenny!”
“Jenny, see? I told you! His girlfriend.”
“Bea, stop. Now Bradley, who is Jenny?”
“She’s new in my class. She moved here from Oklahoma.”
“We live in Oklahoma, dummy,” Beatrice laughed. “Do you mean Oklahoma City?”
“Yeah, Oklahoma City.”
“Don’t call your brother a dummy,” Olivia chastised. “I think it’s nice that there’s a new girl. Is she nice? Do you want to invite her to your party?”
“Yeah, she’s nice. She shared a cookie with me today. Do you think she’ll come to my party?”
“Why wouldn’t she? Everybody loves parties.”
“Will Daddy come to my party?”
“He better,” Olivia said, frowning. “I’ve given him plenty of warning that it’s coming.”
“Will he bring Ali?”
“I’m sure he will.”
“Hey Mom,” Beatrice said, eyes alight. “Why don’t you invite a guy to the party? Make Dad really jealous!”
“What?” Olivia was startled at the notion. “Why would I do that? Who in the world would I invite?”
“What about that guy, you know, that you had lunch with? What was his name?”
“Dolf?”
“Yeah, him. Dolf.”
Bradley giggled. “Dolf.”
“Knock it off,” Olivia said. “It’s not that weird of a name.”
“So will you?” Beatrice asked. “Invite him, I mean.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” Olivia had to admit the idea had a certain appeal. She could just imagine Jacob’s face when he walked in the house and she introduced him to the handsome Swede. But why on earth should she even think about it in those terms? It irritated her that she did, and she shook her head again to try to clear it of the notion.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea after all,” she said to her daughter. “It wouldn’t be nice to invite him just to try to make your father mad or something. It’s not honest.”
“But Mom! It doesn’t have to
be just for that. Didn’t you like him?”
“Sure I did. But I don’t think he liked me. He never called me again.”
“Mom, you’re so silly sometimes. Why don’t you call him? Maybe he’s waiting for that. It’s not a million years ago anymore, you know. Girls call boys all the time. Brittney says.”
“I’ll bet.”
Olivia could hardly believe her daughter was giving her the exact lecture she had given herself just moments earlier. Perhaps it was a sign. What was the worst that could happen, anyway? He’d say no and that would be that.
“Let me think about it some more, okay?”
“Okay.”
Her phone rang. Olivia drew it from her pocket, looked at the number and caught her breath. This had to be more than fate. Destiny, perhaps. Hitting the talk button, she gathered her wits.
“Hi, Dolf.”
Dolf mouthed Beatrice to Bradley, and they both covered their faces with their hands and giggled madly. Olivia waved at them to stop and retreated quickly to her bedroom, where she locked the door behind her.
“Hi!” he said again after a brief pause. “Hey, I was just wondering if you might like to go to the movies tonight? I know it’s short notice, but we could go see that new action flick that’s out. It’s not really my style, but it’s gotten good reviews.”
“Well, uh, I’d have to see what to do about my kids, but I’d love to, Dolf. Let me call you back in a bit?”
“Sure, yeah,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll talk to you then.”
Another ten minutes on the phone and she had her plans made.
“How would you guys like to spend the night with Sally?” Olivia asked Beatrice and Bradley.
“Yeah!” Bradley shouted.
“I guess so,” Beatrice said. “Are you going out on a date with Dolf?”
Bradley started giggling again.
“Stop laughing at his name! And yes, I’m going out on a real date with him this time. Dinner and a movie.”
“And then are you coming back here?”
“What? I don’t know,” Olivia said, flustered.
“Or maybe go to his place?”
“No! I mean, I don’t know!”
Kissing Robert Page 4
