Finding Opa!

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Finding Opa! Page 4

by Nelson, Latrivia


  Normally, her divulging that information would have made another person uncomfortable, but Hunter seemed to understand. He looked at his watch. “Well, should we get on with our date?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. I Googled the area and found a great little Greek restaurant not far from here. It’s walking distance.”

  “I’ve eaten at nearly every restaurant within a ten-mile radius,” she said, walking towards the door. “Is it Mediterranean Nights?”

  He closed the door behind them. “Yes, do you like it?”

  Stacey locked the door and looked up at him. “I love Mediterranean food. I know the owners there too - Mr. and Mrs. Santorini.”

  “Okay. We’ll, I don’t know them, but if you say it’s nice, I’m sure that it is. Plus, that is an awesome last name. Santorini, Greece is home to one of the deadliest volcano eruptions in history.”

  “Outside of being a drink hustler and a doctor, are you also a historian?” she asked amused.

  Hunter laughed. “No, but I love Greek history, Greek culture, Greek everything.” His face lit up.

  “But not Greek girls?” Stacey asked curiously. Her eyes narrowed at him.

  “Oh, I never said that. It’s just that I’m not exclusive to any particular type of woman. I just want a good one.”

  “I like that,” Stacey said, adding one more note about him to her mental rolodex. “Proud of who you are but not ethnocentric.”

  Hunter chuckled.

  “Are you sure that you don’t mind walking?” Stacey asked reluctantly. Her eyes told on her. She wanted him to be happy. “I would normally ride my bike, but I’m sure that with this dress on it would only be more uncomfortable.”

  “I don’t mind walking at all. I missed hitting the gym today. I could use a little cardio.”

  “So you’re a glass half full kind of guy, huh?” she asked curiously. Their feet echoed as they walked through the lobby.

  Hunter opened the door for her and watched her move pass him. “You’re saying this to a man who hasn’t been on a date since he wife died. I totally think it is half-empty.”

  She laughed again. “You’ve got a point.”

  Hunter was intrigued by how different Stacey was tonight – like she was open to the possibility of them. Yesterday, she was nearly impervious, but now, she was graceful and kind. It was as if he was getting a glimpse of a different person, maybe the person she used to be before her husband’s accident.

  ***

  Mediterranean Nights was packed. All tables were full with the exception of one near the window facing the street, reserved just for them. Hunter had made sure to ask for that particular seating arrangement to pay homage to their date the day before.

  After ordering an exceptional bottle of wine, the two sat at the candlelit table getting to know each other. However, Hunter quietly had to remind himself to focus not on the shape of her lips or the cut of her dress but on her words.

  “I have to admit that this feels…strange,” Stacey said, putting her black napkin on her lap. “I don’t even know how to behave on a date.” Her chuckle further expressed her nervousness. “What about you?” She looked up into his green eyes. He seemed distant. “Are you alright?”

  Hunter snapped out of his daze. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “I just…well…I guess that this is sort of weird for me too. I just…” He stopped mid-sentence, realizing that he was making a fool of himself. “Let me start over,” Hunter said, sipping his wine. “I go to the gym, go to the office, go shopping…do the boring stuff. But I don’t date. It’s too difficult still.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Stacey smiled. “I guess my idea of a good night has changed since I’ve been alone.” She looked across the aisle at a couple, who leaned in to kiss each other. Get a room, she thought to herself as she turned back to Hunter.

  “What is your idea of a good night?” he asked, interested to know what she truly liked.

  “I don’t know. I spend so much time by myself until when I think of a relaxing evening it involves a hot dog on the pier and a beer. It’s not this.” She fidgeted with her napkin and tried to seem up beat.

  Hunter chuckled under his breath. They were so in-tune with each other until it was almost scary. “My sentiments exactly. I mean, if I could choose the perfect date it would include jeans, relaxation and just being away from people. I see people all day. That’s all I do, in fact. It’s how I pay my bills.”

  “So what are we doing here?” she asked in a whisper.

  Hunter pushed his glass away from him and sat back in his seat. He looked around at all the couples, who seemed to be just fine in the restaurant, and realized that this was not where they should be. “Do you wanna leave…wanna go?” He motioned towards the door.

  Stacey leaned into him with bright eyes. “Would it be rude?”

  “Rude? No.” He shook his head. He watched her lips for a moment then he smiled. “This is our date, right? We can do want we want to do.”

  “Alright.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Four

  After a quick change of clothes into jeans that fit snuggly around her curved hips and a t-shirt that felt nice against her skin, Stacey hurried out into the night air with Hunter, who only took off his tie and rolled up the sleeves to his oxford.

  They headed out on foot towards the pier with one thing in mind. A great late evening snack and cold beer on the Puget Sound. Walking close together down Alki Beach, food-in-hand, they enjoyed the quietness of their temporary existence together.

  The wind beat against their bodies as they took in the smell of fresh, moist air and Spuds, the fish and chips diner across the way. Cars past by blasting music and couples walked past them as they slowly strolled.

  However, Stacey didn’t mind their slowness. She enjoyed watching Hunter and talking to him. Maybe it was because she had been secluded for so long, or maybe it was because he was genuinely a good guy, but she was drawn to him like a moth to a fire.

  Even if it was just temporary, Hunter illuminated her world with warmth. Though he had no idea of the fact. It was his calm and collective nature and his ability not to take himself too seriously that she admired. Far too many people took themselves too seriously, and it blocked them from their ability to appreciate life. She knew. She was one of them for many years.

  Hunter shoved the last of his hotdog into his mouth and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Now, this is my idea of a date,” he said, nodding his head with a mouth full of food. “How about you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, looking up at him. “Simplicity.” She exhaled a breath.

  “Absolute simplicity,” he answered, understanding exactly how she felt. He looked down into her brown eyes and felt lost again. “I don’t understand it.”

  “Understand what?” she asked.

  “Why you’re single? I mean,” he shrugged, “you’re beautiful and smart and successful. Love Knocks obviously rocks.”

  “So you read up on me?” Stacey was honored though she had learned long ago to cloak all compliments with humility.

  “Of course, I read up on you.” He cracked a smile. “You’ve done quite well for yourself. You’re the most sought after author out there- mostly because of your desire to stay away from the very people who keep you wealthy.”

  “I wouldn’t call it wealthy,” she said in a huff. “I’m well off. I mean, I don’t worry about bills.” Stacey knew before she said the words that it was a lie. She was a millionaire several times over.

  Normally even the discussion of money would have put her off. However, she knew Hunter had his own. So, it wasn’t such a big deal.

  “Is that why you keep this up?” he asked, completely oblivious to her concern.

  Stacey paused. “Keep what up?”

  “The whole not driving, not traveling outside of Seattle, not allowing certain interviews thing?” He kicked a rock in their path.

  Stacey rolled her eyes in defia
nce. This wasn’t the first time that she had been accused of such a thing. “No. It’s no charade, Hunter. I’m really fucked up.”

  Hunter stopped walking. Fucked up was a bit harsh. Traumatized may have been a better explanation for her actions. He looked down at her and grabbed her small hand. There was the sincerest look in her eyes, as if what she was saying was the gospel in some sick, twisted way. Suddenly, he wanted to protect her, but how could he protect her from herself?

  Stacey looked away from him. Having been alone so long, she had learned to accept what she had become. A hermit. A pessimist in some ways. A fragment. A fraction of what she used to be.

  But Hunter seemed to see something different. Maybe it was because he too had been forever altered by his experience. “You’re not fucked up,” he finally said, his deep baritone voiced determined.

  Stacey smiled. “Of course, I am.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re just in a different place right now. We all go through it. I’m going through it,” he said, holding both his hand and hers up to his racing heart.

  “You’re sweet, Hunter. But let’s face facts. I own a perfectly good Mercedes that I’ve only driven once. When I got into it, I totally freaked. I became incredibly claustrophobic all of a sudden. Then, I had a panic attack that nearly killed another family right in a major intersection. It was horrific…no it was pathetic.” She yanked her hand away.

  They both began to walk again in silence. Hunter thought of all the many changes he’d made in his own life and how difficult things had been for him. He also thought about how difficult he had made things for everyone else- for his family, for what friends were left.

  As a surge of foamy waves hit the bay, he gazed over at the water and pushed his own pain aside. How could he help her if he was still groveling? “A Mercedes, you say?”

  Stacey took a sip of her Red Stripe beer. “Black-on-black interior. It’s a beautiful piece of engineering. I keep it in the parking garage. It has like twenty miles on it.”

  He chuckled. “You are a baller. What do you do with all of that money?”

  “Send some home to take care of dad and save the rest,” she answered without thought. “What do you do with yours?”

  “I send a lot of it to Soldier’s Angels. It’s an organization that helps military families in need. The rest I save. I’m not really into the whole living above my means deal.”

  “Me either,” she said, taking another swig of her beer. “It’s totally played out. Taxes make me want to save every penny.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, the IRS is a bitch.”

  “Tell me about it,” she laughed. “Don’t you wish that you could claim someone, be married to someone?”

  “All the time,” he said in a huff. Both the question and the answer had two meanings for him, but he would keep that to himself.

  And just like that, they had moved on from the moment of despair. They walked and laughed for nearly an hour, taking in the sights and the sounds of the boats and waves. Peacefully, they found themselves truly getting to know one another.

  Hunter liked to collect Greek artifacts when he wasn’t helping run the family practice. He spent a considerable amount of time at the gym and was a horrible golfer and basketball player. Stacey enjoyed collecting old books, buying art from a dealer in Harlem who knew exactly what pieces spoke to her difficult but beautiful childhood. When she wasn’t writing, she enjoyed biking and long walks around the waterway. Both had a thing for the Food Network and YouTube. They even were subscribers to some of the same channels.

  “Are you on Facebook?” Hunter asked as they sat atop a rock on the bay.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s how I interact with most of my readers,” Stacey said, skipping a rock.

  “Yeah, I like Facebook too. I keep in touch with her family on it.” He perked up. “Are you an HBO freak or a Showtimer?”

  “Both,” she answered quickly. “I can’t live without Game of Thrones or Gigolos.”

  Hunter laughed aloud. “I actually record Game of Thrones.”

  Stacey turned to him. The moonlight shone down on her angelic face. With her lips twisted up, she smiled. “We’re sort of boring, aren’t we?”

  Hunter shook his head. “Completely.”

  “When I write, I never write about people like us. And it’s weird, you know, because this is what I know best. I always write about these amazing romances that make your heart beat fast and your blood race. I write just the most incredible love scenes that defy the very existence of real, human relationships.” She walked towards him as he sat perched a few feet away on a rock watching her. “I used to live an amazing life, have earth-shattering sex, and have that whole cloud-nine feeling. Did you?”

  Hunter shook his head. “Yep.”

  “I’m sorry. I know that we are supposed to be doing this help each other, but am I becoming too intimate?” she paused.

  “No. It’s just been a long time since anyone else articulated the same emotions that I’ve had. I tried the counseling and the specialized psychiatrist.” Hunter looked up at her. “Nothing worked.”

  “So did I,” Stacey said absently.

  “I still don’t sleep well. I still don’t do a lot of things well. After her death, I just wanted to be alone. You know?”

  “I know.” Stacey sat down beside him. He scooted over to give her room. “Did you try valium?”

  “For a while. It made me feel less like myself. I felt like I was cheating. After all, she was dead. So, I felt that mourning was my way of at least feeling something.”

  “That was my exact thought too.” Stacey liked the idea that he didn’t hold back. Maybe she didn’t have to either. “Can I ask you a totally personal question, since you are a doctor and a widow?” A naughty grin crossed her lips.

  He looked over at her and smiled back. “Sure. Why not.” You can ask me anything you want, he thought to himself.

  “Did you lose your desire to…masturbate?”

  Hunter frowned. That was not what he was expecting. He chuckled under his breath as she followed his face for an answer. She evidently did not see anything wrong with the question.

  “It’s odd that you bring that up. Yes, I did.” He laughed but still felt odd. How did she know that? “It took a year to even think about it. It made me feel like I was cheating on her.” He looked down at his crotch involuntarily.

  “Me too,” she said, slumping over. “It made me grumpier. I bought a drawer full of dildos from Switzerland. They are supposed to have the best plastics. At first, I just thought I was buying the wrong type, and then I realized that it was me. I lost the ability to get off.”

  Hunter was speechless. Never had a woman, even at his practice, shared that with him before. “You’re right. We are fucked up.”

  “Tell me about it,” she said, raising her beer to his. “To two months together.”

  “To two months,” he said, clinking his beer against hers.

  The moon lit her face just right at that very moment. Her long, swan neck ran down to her perfectly toned body, and she appeared to be glowing. He swallowed hard at the thought that she might actually let him kiss her tonight.

  Perched on the rocks and drinking beer, they talked until the clouds came and hid the moon behind their thick dark blankets. The smell of rain was the only thing that pulled them from their deep conversations on life, politics, relationship and even children. It had been years since they had opened up so much to anyone, so long since someone else could identify with their tribulations.

  As Hunter watched Stacey explain the beauty of completing a novel, he began to feel worried. Had they opened Pandora’s Box? Would they be able to close it? Maybe it was the knowledge that in two months, they would both walk away from this experience and be better for it. Maybe it was because they knew that nothing would be lost. But something was happening tonight between the two of them, and it was strong – strong enough to scare him. However, he was unable to stop himself or his curiosity. With every
secret that they shared, somehow he felt better, more alive. Stacey was changing him.

  “What about you?” she asked, oblivious to his thoughts. “What makes you happiest about your career?” Rubbing her hands on her jeans, she put down her bottle.

  “Saving lives,” he said sincerely. He looked up in the night sky. “I’ve saved six women from ovarian cancer, saved countless more from the misery of discomfort and sickness. It makes me feel good inside.”

  “I’m sure,” Stacey said, proud for him. “That has to be an unbelievable feeling. You know, when my mom died of ovarian cancer, it scared the shit out of me. I wondered how I would recover from her loss. When I did start to have sex, I got checked more than any other girl I know. It was because I had felt so helpless with her situation, and I never wanted to feel that way again. And look at you. You save lives every day. That’s amazing. I mean, I’ve never saved anyone before. The feeling must be unimaginable.”

 

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