The Cuffing Season (The Anti-Cinderella Chronicles)

by Tawdra Kandle

  I didn’t understand that—I felt plenty protected in my jeans and tee, and I was pretty certain that without them, I’d be feeling vulnerable and, well, naked. But even so, I played along. “I’m sure. But I don’t think your people there—they wouldn’t want someone wandering around who doesn’t believe the same way they do.” I was struggling between the need to get the hell out of this place and the desire to somehow rescue this date. Tyla might be a nudist, but I wasn’t convinced that meant the two of us didn’t have a chance. “Maybe we could go somewhere—somewhere else, I mean—and get a bite to eat. We could talk about all of . . . this.” I gestured, encompassing the entire park.

  Her face awash with disappointment, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I already have plans with my boyfriend, Syd. He’s waiting for us over by the basketball courts. We were both so excited to have you here—I was hoping you could write something about the park for your column. After all, this is a great place to meet people, and isn’t that what you’re talking about in your work?”

  And this just kept getting better and better.

  “I am positive I’m going to talk about this in my column,” I told Tyla. “I’m not sure how much leeway I have with doing anything that might be considered directly promotional for your park, but I promise, I’ll give you a glowing review.”

  “I appreciate that.” She patted my arm. “I still think you could describe it better if you had a look around.” She scanned me with an accessing eye. “I don’t know what you’re worried about, Harry. You’re a good-looking guy, and you’re in shape. As nudists, we don’t worry about those kinds of things, but for your purposes—there’s absolutely no reason you should worry about showing off your physique.”

  “Thanks. I’m flattered, but I’m going to take a pass.” I offered Tyla my hand. “This has been a very enlightening experience. It was great to meet you. Good luck with the park, and with Syd, and with—yeah, just everything.”

  And then I left as fast as I could.

  “Oh. My. God.” Vivian wheezed with laughter. “I can’t even. That’s . . . oh. That’s priceless, Harry.” She glanced at her husband Charlie, who was sitting next to her at my mom’s kitchen table, holding baby Gus. “And you thought my run-in with the furries was out there. At least I didn’t show up for a date at a nudist colony.”

  “An adult leisure park,” Sophia corrected, but she was giggling, too. “I tried to warn him, but he just wouldn’t be told.”

  “You didn’t try all that hard.” I pointed at my friend’s face. “There were plenty of points at which you could have said, Harry, this chick runs a naked park. You didn’t. Don’t think I’m going to forget that.”

  “Do I look worried?” She showed me a deadpan face. “Face it, dude. You got what was coming to you. The only thing you wanted to think about was this hot woman being interested in you.” Sophia shrugged. “I just failed to mention the nudism, and I honestly didn’t know about the boyfriend.”

  “I think it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.” Vivian reached for a cookie. “And I can’t wait to read your column, telling all about it.”

  “Great.” I slumped back in my chair, exhaling long. I’d called Vivian with questions about how far I could go in using names and places in my column, and when I’d been slow to divulge the whole story, she’d insisted on stopping by my house.

  “Charlie and I are out walking with Gus anyway, and we’re only a few blocks from you,” she’d informed me. “I have a feeling this is a tale I want to hear in person.”

  A few moments after Vivian, Charlie and the baby had rolled in, Sophia had stopped by, too, which was why I was currently both the center of attention and the butt of a huge joke. Only Charlie looked like he might be sympathetic.

  “Is it safe to come into my own kitchen, or have you all decided to join with my son in becoming a nudist?” My mother stood in the doorway, one hand covering her eyes. “I’d hate to walk in on anything embarrassing.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate your compassion and support.”

  Mom stopped behind my chair, patting my head. “It’s all in good fun, sweetheart.” She leaned over to hug Sophia. “I didn’t hear you come in, Soph. Want some tea? I’m about to put on a pot.”

  My mother and Sophia shared a love of tea, and more than once, I’d come home to find the two of them enjoying cups together at this very table. I liked the fact that my mother and my friends got along so well, but when they ganged up on me, it was less fun.

  “I would love a cup, please.” Sophia offered my mom a sunny smile.

  “Awesome. Once I get the kettle on, I’d love to hold the baby, if you didn’t mind.” Mom cooed down into Gus’s small face. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a little one in the house.”

  “Any time you need a baby fix, just call me. I’ll give you my number,” Vivian declared. “Gus is an equal opportunity snuggler.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Mom headed to the stove. “Go on, now. Keep talking. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “We were just laughing at Harry,” Sophia answered. “You’re welcome to join in, if you like.”

  “Harry, to answer your question, I’ll run this by legal for you, but I think you can mention first names—or maybe even just first initials, if her name is unusual and could be traced back to her. You can’t endorse the park by name or give the exact location, since we don’t do promotion in our columns, but you can talk about it in a vague sense.”

  “Thanks.” I swung around to face Sophia. “Something just occurred to me. Did you take naked pictures of people at the park? Or did you just shoot nature there?”

  Sophia blinked. “Of course, there were people in the pictures. They were promotional shots. But I promise, they were all very tasteful.”

  I frowned. “Women and men?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Harry, both sexes, if you must know.”

  “Soph, are your parents coming back to Florida for Thanksgiving?” My mother wasn’t exactly subtle about changing the subject.

  “Actually, that was why I stopped over to talk to Harry.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Mom and Dad want to celebrate Thanksgiving in St. Augustine, so I’m going to drive up and meet them that day. I have to work on Black Friday, so I won’t stay late, but I won’t be able to make it to dinner here.” She glanced at my mother. “Thanks for the invitation, Mrs. D. I appreciate it.”

  “So you won’t be here for Thanksgiving?” I was more disappointed than I’d expected.

  “No, but I had an idea. Why don’t we have Friendsgiving at my house? You, me and Preston—maybe the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I’ll make dinner.” Sophia was an excellent cook, which made her offer especially appealing. “I already mentioned it to Preston, and he’s down.”

  “Ooooh, that sounds fun.” Vivian brushed cookie crumbs from her shirt. “If I promise to bring a dish and help out with the clean-up, could the three of us get in on that, too? My parents are still traveling the country in their RV, my sister’s got a new job in New Mexico, and Charlie’s grandfather is flying up to New York for the holiday. We thought about going, too, but I’m not ready to fly with the babycito, here. We’re going to have a lonely, quiet holiday.” She slid a sideways glance at her husband. “Assuming you’re okay with attending a Friendsgiving with these awesome people?”

  Charlie laughed. “As if I could say no to that.”

  “Of course, you can come. I want you to come.” Sophia wriggled in her chair, giddy. “I can’t believe that I’m going to have the real live Vivian at my Friendsgiving.”

  “Great. I make an amazing cranberry relish from scratch, and my pecan pie has won prizes. For real. Tell me if you need anything else.” Vivian pulled out her phone. “Give me your number, so we can make plans.”

  “Sure.” Sophia slid her own phone across the table.

  “So you, Harry, Preston . . . Charlie and me . . . that’s five of us. Anyone else invited?” Vivian tapped into her phone, flickeri
ng her attention up to Sophia.

  “Um . . .” Sophia began, and I heard an unfamiliar uncertainty in her tone. “Maybe one more. But I’m not positive on that yet.”

  “Who else is coming? Or may be coming?” I searched my mind to think of which of our casual friends might qualify for inclusion. Sophia’s apartment wasn’t big enough to host a huge gathering, so we usually stuck to intimate parties—meaning small groups.

  Sophia swallowed and studiously avoided meeting my eyes. “Someone I met through work. He’s from California, and he just moved here, so he doesn’t know many people. I thought it might be cool to include him.”

  “Sophia . . .” Vivian dragged out her name. “Is this male someone a person of interest in your love life? Are you maybe into him?” She sounded delighted, much to my annoyance.

  If it were possible, Sophia seemed even more uncomfortable. “Well, he asked me out. On a date. Tomorrow night. And I said yes.”

  “You did?” I blurted out, my surprise taking away any tactful filter I might’ve possessed. “Why?”

  “Soph, I think that’s wonderful.” My mother returned to the table, setting down a mug of steaming tea in front of Sophia, glaring at me over the top of her head. “Tell us about him.”

  “He’s from California,” she began, and I interrupted.

  “You said that already.” It was possible my tact filter was still out of order.

  Three pairs of female eyes shot me daggers, and I quickly retreated. “Sorry. Go on. You were saying California?”

  “He moved here to take a job at the college as an associate professor in graphic design while he goes for his doctorate in anthropology. He’s been studying at Espresso Wishes for the last couple of weeks, and sometimes he stays really late, like after everyone else has left, and we’ve been chatting. A couple of nights ago, he asked if I might want to go out with him . . . and I told him I would.”

  “That’s great, Sophia!” Vivian enthused. “And if—what’s his name?”

  Sophia took a deep breath. “Zeke.”

  “If Zeke comes to Friendsgiving, we’ll have a nice round six at the table, not counting Gus, who isn’t sitting up yet and can’t have real food for another three months.”

  “You’ll have to tell us about the date afterward,” my mother interjected. “I want all the details.” She cast me a long glance. “Isn’t it great, Harry?”

  “Yeah. Totally.” I tried to rustle up some enthusiasm. “Really, totally awesome.”

  Inside me, though, an unhappy, restless sense of outrage churned. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t plan to examine it closely enough to find out.

  “There could be more of us for Friendsgiving.” I spoke without thinking it through. “I’m planning to ask out Faith Two, and if that goes as well as I expect, I might invite her. Also, maybe Preston will finally get a name for his yee and ask her for dinner, too.”

  “Faith Two?” Vivian rested her chin on her hand. “Oh, I have to hear about this. And tell me about Preston’s yee, too.”

  Charlie groaned. “You do realize you’re starting to talk like them now, right?”

  His wife waved him off. “Shhhh. As Preston might say, I don’t give a bunny about your negative talk. Let me have my fun.”

  “Of course, you can invite Faith Two for Friendsgiving, Harry.” Sophia’s voice was even. “It would be just perfect if all three of us had dates that night, wouldn’t it? It would be the true culmination of the cuffing season. All three of us . . . cuffed in time for the official launch of the holidays.”

  “Perfect,” I echoed. “Absolutely perfect.”

  6

  “There she is.”

  Preston hunched over the counter, his voice low as his eyes followed the movement of the woman who’d just walked in the door of Juicy Times. Sophia and I both started to turn around to look, just as Preston whispered furiously.

  “No! Don’t look. She’ll see you. She’ll know I’m talking about her.”

  “Isn’t that the point?” Sophia whispered back. “You need her to know you’re interested so you can, you know, find out her freakin’ name and then ask her out.”

  “I’m not ready yet.” Panic fell over Preston’s face. “What if she’s not really the one? What if there’s something wrong with her, like she hates Christmas or wearing clothes?”

  “My boy.” I reached up to grip his shoulder. “There’s no time like the present. Go for it. Bring it. Do the right thing. Ask her—”

  “Hi. Can I get a coconut acai bowl? Oh, and can you make it with extra kiwi and coconut milk?”

  I held my breath, sensing Sophia was doing the same, as Preston stared at this paragon of beauty in front of him. For a long, scary moment, I thought he’d lost the power of speech.

  And then my boy came through.

  “And hold the chia seeds?” He smiled at his yee.

  “Oh, geez.” The woman blushed, smiling. “I guess I’m too predictable, huh?”

  “No.” Preston reached for a bowl to begin the order. “I just happen to have a good memory for a pretty face and an interesting person.”

  I couldn’t believe the game my boy had right now. He was flirting with the object of his affection as though he did this kind of thing every day.

  “What’s got into him?” Sophia nudged me, her eyes wide. “He’s, like, possessed by a different energy.”

  “I know,” I answered. “What’s going on here?”

  We watched in silent admiration as Preston deftly put together the acai bowl, keeping up a running patter of small talk. He had described her well, I thought; her hair was bleached almost white, with wide streaks of bright green framing her narrow face. She reminded me a little of a mischievous pixie.

  After she’d paid for her order, the pixie yee waved to Preston . . . and left the juice bar.

  “Damn,” I muttered. “I was hoping she’d sit down to eat, so we could maybe get a better read on her.”

  Preston sighed. “She almost never stays to eat her food here. I think maybe she’s on her way to work or something. Sometimes on Wednesdays, she’ll sit down for a few minutes.”

  “Why didn’t you ask her name?” Sophia demanded. “You were smooth, Preston. Super smooth. You were totally charming her.”

  He dropped his elbows onto the counter and buried his face in his hands. “I know. I was channeling Harry, pretending I was him. But I couldn’t find an opening to introduce myself so she’d do the same. I’m pathetic. Do you know what I did the other day? I made a big fuss over the girl in front of her in line, just because I thought it might make her jealous. I’m such a loser.”

  “You’re not a loser. You just have to find the right tactic for this particular yee. Now you know what doesn’t work . . . so it’s time to go for the direct route. Find out her name. Ask her if she’d like to go out with you sometime.”

  He straightened up and gave a decisive nod. “Next time, for sure.”

  “You can do it. I have faith in you.” With a smirk, I added, “And speaking of faith . . . guess who has a date with Faith Two tomorrow?”

  “Harry, you dog.” Preston held up his hand for me to high five. “How did you do that?”

  Next to me, Sophia sniffed loudly but said nothing.

  “She wanted to return my batter power box, but we kept missing each other at the gym,” I explained. “We’ve been texting almost every day since we met—nothing big, just, like, hey, how are you, are you climbing today, I got a new battery for my car finally . . . so after everything fell apart with Tyla, I thought, why not go for it with Faith Two?”

  “Why not?” echoed Sophia.

  I ignored her. “So I texted and suggested we meet for a drink in Winter Park. It’s going to be pretty out tomorrow. I thought we’d go up on the deck at Park Avenue Brews and watch the sunset. Doesn’t that sound romantic?”

  “I just might swoon,” Sophia cooed, but I sensed that she was mocking me.

  “That’s going to be legendary.” Preston n
odded. “I have a good feeling about this one, Harry. She might be the one.”

  “Oh, my God. You two and all this the one nonsense. How do you even know there’s just one person out there in the world for each of us?” Sophia was always the least romantic and the most pragmatic of the three of us, but it sounded as though she’d lost all of her patience now. “Maybe there’s only the perfect one for right now, and then we end up settling for the best of the right nows.”

  “Wow, Soph. When did you get so cynical?” I twisted around to frown at her. “Here I thought you’d be all full of hope and sunshine, since you’re dating—what’s his name again? Zack?”

  “Zeke,” she corrected through clenched teeth. “And yes, I did go out on a date with him, and yes, he’s great. But that doesn’t mean I’m changing who I am. Just because I meet one decent guy doesn’t necessarily equate to a shift in my overall philosophy of life.” She slid off her stool. “You know what? I’m not in the mood to talk about this anymore. I’m heading out.” She raised a hand in farewell. “See you later, Preston.”

  Ignoring me completely, she pivoted and stalked out of the juice bar.

  “What’s wrong with her lately?” I shook my head, glancing at Preston. “Is it just me, or has she been extra touchy? She’s so prickly, it’s like I can’t ever say anything right.”

  “Eh.” Preston shrugged. “Maybe she’s just dealing with something she doesn’t feel comfortable talking to you about.”

  “Is that my fault?” I shot back. “I’ve been a prince to her. I didn’t even give her that much shit after the whole Tyla mess. She could’ve warned me about that—she should have told me I was walking into a friggin’ nudist camp, and she didn’t. She let me go there, knowing I was going to make a fool of myself. And I didn’t harp on that. Much.”

  “She tried to tell you,” Preston pointed out, less than helpfully. “You shut her down every time. If I’m remembering right, you even accused her of being jealous.”