The Numbers Game

by Frances Vidakovic

  “You do know who I am, don’t you?” Tabitha replied tentatively.

  “Of course I do!” Rick bellowed. Then he laughed and it was all a bit over the top like on The Comedy Channel.

  Oh no, Tabitha cringed. He doesn’t know who I am at all! But then Rick went on to say “Are you still copywriting at the real estate agency?” and it shot down that fret.

  “I am, but that isn’t what I called you about. Rather it’s about Serena.”

  “Serena,” Rick was probably shaking his head at the way that came out. “Are you sure you’re speaking to the right person then?”

  “Well not totally but I don’t have any other choice.” Tabitha paused and wondered how she should phrase this. How did it go again? Something like: please let Serena know it is absolutely paramount that she calls me immediately. No that was so secretarial.

  “Listen you sound a bit stressed,” Rick started, “and so am I about this whole Markie and Serena taking a break thing. So why don’t we meet after work or something; that way we can talk about it more privately and you can share with me whatever’s on your mind?”

  “Like a date?” Tabitha let her surprise slip before she could tame it. But it couldn’t be helped; Rick actually wanted to meet with her! And not somewhere boring like at his work or Markie’s but after-hours, somewhere discreet and private.

  According to women’s intuit, private could only mean one thing: he likes me; oh my God Rick likes me!

  “I…um...” Now the cat had caught Rick’s tongue. “If you like we can treat it like a date, have dinner or something. Only if you like, that is.”

  “Oh I would like,” Tabitha smiled, now that she had gotten a grip of the confidence oozing out of her pores. “Tomorrow at eight o’clock would be totally grand. I mean great.”

  “I’ll pick you up from your house? That old pinky-colored terrace on Solstice Drive, right?”

  “How did you…”? Tabitha’s voice faded away. Of course he knew that, all men probably informed their best friend where their girlfriend’s best friend lives, right? That wasn’t abnormal was it?

  “Eight o’clock will be fine,” she managed with as such calm and poise humanly possible. Then she put down the phone and jumped around the room with joy, fists punching high into the sky.

  It had been a long, long time since Tabitha last did her victory dance.

  See everything does happen for a reason, Tabitha thought as she prepared for the Big Date. Serena’s humiliation, Serena’s wrath towards her didn’t go to waste because tonight, any minute now, she would be going out with Rick. Finally….

  Tabitha scolded herself for not thinking up something this ingenious earlier. Five years now she had spent fantasizing about kissing those sexy lips of Ricks and where did all that brooding get her? Nowhere really… because only today was she about to take the first step.

  Obviously Tabitha was partly to blame for that slow-poke hold-up – seeing as for two years she kept her feelings to herself and the next three she stealthily avoided the topic. And for what reason? Why was I a nervous knuckle brain? Tabitha asked herself these easy questions while applying last minute splashes of extra blush and lipstick. It wasn’t like there was anything to be scared of… they were going out for a friendly chat, nothing serious. It’s not like they had to spend the rest of their lives together, and get married, have babies, etcetera.

  Tabitha suddenly felt her spine stiffen in a frightening way. She knew this sensation well and tried to keep calm until she made it to a soft spot into which she could recline. Backing slowly out of the bathroom, Tabitha took tiny steps towards her bedroom, with one hand on her back and the other on her heart. She really should go to a doctor about this, Tabitha reasoned as her head kept spinning, what if these were symptoms of a heart attack or worse yet a brain tumor?

  On second thoughts maybe a doctor wasn’t such a good idea. Last weekend Tabitha had seen a TV special on brain tumor patients who didn’t sadly make it and noted that all the guests hadn’t even suspected they had the disease until that auspicious stop at the medical centre. Then within months of diagnosis the once healthy looking beings had withered away to bone. What I don’t know can’t hurt me, Tabitha decided. Plus it’s not like these attacks happen all the time, only when she thought about relationships or words like long-term and commitment came up.

  There it went again, a sharp stab of pain shot across Tabitha’s cancer-free brain but luckily she was by the bed when it happened. She really did have to stop thinking these horrible thoughts about love pledges and marriage. Focus on the smaller chunks, living day by day instead and of course the prospect of divorce.

  The doorbell rang just as Tabitha was thinking how grand it would be to be a man in those Muslim countries where a click a finger meant their relationship was officially dissolved. She looked out her bedroom window to see Rick standing on the platform, holding a bunch of pretty sunflowers and huffing into his hand then smelling it. Oh that would have to be the breath check. Next thing you know he’d be rubbing a forefinger across his teeth and clearing the yukky bits from his eyes.

  “Coming,” she called, quickly checking her own breath/teeth/eyes/

  nose/breasts/bum in the hallway mirror before making her way down.

  “This is it, be cool, you’re Angelina Jolie.”

  She opened up the door and let the pure thrill of the moment rush through her body. I don’t need to act excited, I am excited. Excited by the way Rick looks oh so pleased to see me. Excited also by the little beads of sweat which had formed on his forehead, luckily hers were tucked beneath her blow-dried fringe.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, in a kind way, not impatient.

  “I am,” Tabitha nodded and without thinking, pulled the door shut behind her and started walking towards his car. But Rick wasn’t moving; he was still standing by the door wearing a bemused expression. Oh damn! Oh crap! What a rude idiot she was! She was supposed to invite him in or something; offer him a beer or a bowl of nuts she guessed.

  “Sorry the wind blew the door shut by accident. Then I got blown away a bit too. Shall we go back inside for refreshments?”

  Tabitha screwed her face into a tiny ball as she threw out the proposition and motioned to the door. Somehow she thought Angelina Jolie would have done it a tad more elegantly. Yes but you’re not Angelina, are you honey?

  Thanks a lot mom.

  “No, no,” Rick cried, stepping away from the house. “We probably should get going. I was just admiring your…dress.” Tabitha looked down at her black pantsuit confused. “I mean not your dress, your shoes.”

  Tabitha’s eyes shifted to her cherry-colored boots; She guessed they were a bit interesting but didn’t blokes who like shoes usually like the other team… Tabitha glimpsed up to meet Rick’s embarrassed gaze and he started stuttering.

  “To be honest it’s not only your shoes I was admiring but everything; everything about you.”

  Tabitha felt her cheeks redden rapidly. Normally she wasn’t that good at accepting compliments. As a rule she’d take them and then totally smack it down, until her esteem was down there with the roaches and maggots. But today she restrained her tongue…bit it between her two front teeth until the urge passed by. Only once it was safely out of harm’s reach did Tabitha open her mouth to let out her well-trained etiquette-proper response.

  “Thank you, thank you very much.”

  Then she linked her arm with Rick’s and off they went to dinner.

  It turned out Rick and Tabitha had more in common than they both realized.

  For starters, neither of them were really fans of fancy exotic cuisine but happy to pretend they were. Both munched on hideous legs of crab dipped into putrid white sauce without so much as a grimace and happily talked about politics and the sad destruction of our wild forests without so much as a yawn. It was tough but like all good actors, they pulled themselves through.

  In other words, the date was a disaster.

  Tabitha sat across
from Rick, trying to read what was behind the pleasantry in his eyes. He had taken her to a posh restaurant but it was a bit too posh for her liking; almost wanky. The waiters were the type who had black tie jackets with long tails to their knees, as if composers of an orchestra and the women wore glitter and the chunkiest stones Tabitha had ever seen outside a jewelry store. She knew, just knew that the tip expected would be worth more than most dinner-for-two bills.

  Bad thoughts starting entering Tabitha’s mind almost immediately. Firstly they were of the ‘low-self-esteem’ type. Like honestly I don’t belong in a place this extravagant, everyone here is better, richer, more beautiful and thus superior than me. Then it quickly proceeded to the ‘high-esteem’ sort. I don’t give a hoot if I’m humdrum because at least I have more personality, style, sass and balls than all these people combined. Speaking of which, what did this place say about Rick and the sort of person he was? Huh?

  Tabitha treaded her next steps with much caution. She had to; she had liked Rick for too long to screw it up with stupid rationalizations. As Rick talked about escalating property prices, Tabitha concentrated on ignoring the Devil on her right shoulder and focusing instead on the Angel on the left. Right now Angel was saying:

  “Look isn’t he a nice and intelligent man. Rick obviously has money so you won’t have to hide any new purchases in the back of your closet, like your mother did. He doesn’t talk with his mouth full, nor does he look in need of a wash or feed. And the best thing is you KNOW he doesn’t have a wife and kids stashed away. Not only is he legitimately single but you have Markie and Serena as backup spies for those more dubious incidences.

  The Devil erstwhile was having a riotous chuckle at the Angel.

  “You gullible little girl! Rick is no different from other men. Sure, he may be acting all sincere and attentive now but give him a few weeks and he’ll be stomping on your heart in no time. Why take the risk?”

  “Shut up for God’s sake,” Tabitha cried, having had enough of the debate. It was always Devil and Angel on opposite sides, with her stuck in the middle. Fall heaven to hell and they still wouldn’t agree.

  “Er Tabitha?” Rick stared with eyes stunned to the size of saucers. “Did I just say something wrong, to offend you?”

  Tabitha came back down to Earth with a thud.

  “No, no,” she said, moving quickly to fix her silk - or whatever insanely expensive material it was- napkin against her lap. She said that out loud, didn’t she? Tabitha reached for her glass of wine and gulped it down without stopping for breath. A refill, that’s what she needed; getting drunk now was her only option. “I’ve just got a few things on my mind. I didn’t mean for that to slip.”

  “Anything you’d like to share with me?” Rick leant forward and whispered. “I’m not a bad listener you know.”

  Tabitha raised her eyebrows. Wasn’t that what all boys said when deep down they’d much rather be listening to football commentary?

  “I’d prefer not to,” she said in the end, despite herself.

  “Because…?”

  “Because I don’t feel like it, okay?”

  Tabitha didn’t mean to bite Rick’s head off but before she knew it he had retreated deep into his shell. Hell, what was she supposed to do now? She wasn’t good at apologies. She wasn’t good at sucking up people’s asses. She let the silence linger between them like toxic gas until dessert time, when she was perusing the sweet menu for the fifth pathetic time.

  “Look,” Tabitha started, resting the exquisite probably handmade menu back onto the table.

  “To be honest, nothing on the menu totally titillates me. Rick. I’m not into poached pears smothered in sweet rice pottage nor do pumpkin berry pancakes catch my eye. I’d much rather get a chocolate sundae and apple pie from McDonalds please.”

  “McDonalds?” Rick laughed, wondering if this was too good to be true. “We are sitting in LaBouche and you’d rather be dining at a fast food place?” He shook his head. “Gosh I love it; a beauty who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”

  “Who says I’m not afraid?” Tabitha whined, winding herself up like an Energizer Bunny. “Because I totally am a scaredy cat; about everything: love, work, cute guys just like yourself…um…did I already say love? In fact I have every fear in the book.” Tabitha started counting them on her fingers. “Fear of success, fear of failure, fear of the unknown, fear of commitment, fear of getting hurt…”

  “That’s sound like some heavy baggage you’re carrying.”

  “Yes it is, very heavy.” Tabitha stopped for a second, registering how it might sound. “Hang on it’s not like it’s that heavy, like a noose around my neck or anything. I’m very comfortable carrying around these issues.”

  “Oh really.” Rick’s eyes and lips crinkled at the corners and he snapped his finger at the waiter to signal delivery of the check. “Would you please tell me more about this on our way to see Ronnie McDonald? He’s a very good friend of mine too you know. Hotcakes with golden syrup.” He winked.

  Tabitha blushed. It was like the thin veil of mystery had finally been lifted and Rick was seeing her clearly for the first time: without the pretend-Angelina-Jolie persona, without the high-maintenance meows, without anything really to block his view of the real Tabitha. That made her feel rather naked but also free and uninhibited. It was almost like saying: this is me and if you don’t like it then go get stuffed.

  But Rick wasn’t getting stuffed. He was driving her right now to the local McDonalds and sneaking constant furtive glances in her direction along the way. A huge wide grin – come to think of it, it looked a bit clown-like – was plastered permanently across his face. Now Tabitha understood why some kids weren’t petrified of clowns. If you looked beyond the petrifying heavy makeup straight into their eyes, you could see the life and love and a desire for fun behind them. At least that’s what Tabitha was seeing in Rick’s eyes. Maybe once they got to McDonalds they could finally touch upon the subject of Serena.

  After all that was what they came out here for tonight, right?

  Chapter 24

  Jasper never once raised an eyelid as to why Serena had suddenly moved into a huge Californian bungalow. He took her excuse without questioning it and Serena loved him even more for it.

  “Living with Tabitha was just a temporary measure while my house was getting fumigated. Too many rats and roaches roaming the attic during the night for my liking,” she’d explained.

  Jasper had shriveled his nose in disgust. He too agreed women shouldn’t have to listen to the pitter patter sound of rodents. Not that the house looked like it was ever pest-infested. Serena had done her best to make it seem so by scattering cheese crumbs on the granite kitchen counter and corn chips in between the lounge cushions but Jasper’s eyes had skimmed right over it.

  “It’s a beautiful house, and big,” he commented instead. But not in the jealous, bitter way; rather with the astuteness of a real estate agent ready to take on a client. “You must be rewarded well for your work.” Jasper smiled cheekily.

  “Well…yes.” Serena swallowed hard. That depended on whether one meant monetarily or pure pleasure compensation. In reality her scanty wage used to go towards groceries and entertainment while it was Markie’s that covered the heftier bills and monthly repayments. Which, God bless him, he was still allowing to be automatically deducted from their account.

  “My mom sort of gave me the house, you see,” Serena mumbled, regretting it immediately. Not only was she now a posh lady who fumigated but a posh, spoilt lady who got given houses.

  “Actually it was more like my grandmothers. It got left to me in the will but I couldn’t touch it till I was twenty-five. Which wasn’t too long ago; until then the trust fund had the house rented out and the money invested was in…um, mutual funds.”

  The lies rolled off her tongue like Lifesavers.

  “It sounds like your grandmother was a very thoughtful woman.”

  “She is,” Serena nodded, “I mean she w
as.” She displayed her best sad face and made a mental point of deleting Grandma from her cell phone book. “Every day I’m grateful for the loving gift that was bestowed.”

  Bestowed my ass. For safety’s sake Serena made sure to spend as much time thereafter at Jasper’s place and as little back at the ranch. She wasn’t totally sure why but it didn’t feel right having a new lover in the house she shared with Markie. Even though all of Markie’s photos and dead giveaway masculine possessions had been appropriately thrown into boxes in the basement, Serena felt his presence everywhere, like Whoopi Goldberg sensing Patrick Swayze’s annoying phantom all around in the movie “Ghost”. In the lounge room, Serena imagined Markie sitting on the couch watching TV with a remote in hand; in the bedroom he was sprawled diagonally across the king size bed; in the bathroom he was humming songs while brushing his teeth and in the kitchen his apparition hovered by the stove.

  If Jasper stayed the night he would surely learn about Markie and Markie would know about him. To be honest Serena wasn’t ready for that confrontation just yet, to share her bed with two men, even if only in spirit forms. This was not to say she didn’t think about the confrontation because she did twenty-four hours a day. D-day was approaching rapidly and by then a decision of some sort had to be made.

  “Oh feck,” Serena cried, burying her head into the pillow. “What am I going to do?”

  Serena could not imagine anyone in this world having the same problem. Of course it would be great if she could open Cosmopolitan and therein lay her answer but writers didn’t write feature articles on Loving Two People At Once (though they bloody well should), because most chicks usually struggled to hold onto the one guy they had. This might explain why sprawled across the latest glossy mag were the dreadful headlines, “How to Tell If Your Man is Cheating” and “Get a Man to Marry You in 21 Days or Less.” Completely useless for anyone with real problems; the magazines seemed to hint, “Two boys, you should be so lucky!”