Big Daddy SEAL

by Mickey Miller

  It was a seat yourself arrangement, so we went inside with Jess on the leash, and I pulled out Amy’s seat.

  “Sit, mi amiga,” I said.

  “Why thank you, sir,” Amy said, taking off her sunglasses. She looked toward the ocean, and got a whimsical look on her face.

  “Hey. You okay?” I asked again.

  She kept her eyes on the ocean, a faraway look in her eyes. “I…I don’t know. Honestly Chandler, I don’t. This is going to sound stupid if I tell you what I’m thinking about.”

  “Tell me.”

  The waiter interrupted us to give us his spiel in Spanish. We nodded. I wasn’t sure if Amy’s Spanish was rusty, so I confirmed her order with her. “Do you want the same thing you always used to have for breakfast? An omelet with bacon and avocado?” I asked.

  “Yes, that’s fine,” she said, speaking softly. I ordered two omelets to the waiter and told him to have the cook check vehemently for seafood and no cross-contamination.

  When the waiter walked away, Amy had put her sunglasses back on even though we were inside. I stared at her and waited patiently for her to fill me in on what she was thinking about. I swear I saw her sniffle a little bit, which still seemed irregular for her. I tensed up wondering what news she was going to tell me.

  “Maybe my chi is a little bit off kilter right now,” she began. “I’m usually not this emotional, and for such stupid reasons.”

  “What are you talking about?” I arched an eyebrow.

  “Just listen,” she said. “When you pulled that chair out for me—just that simple act—I realized that in my six months of dating David, not once did he open a door or pull a chair out for me.”

  “And that’s what’s making you emotional?”

  She smiled at me wanly. “Just let me finish.”

  “Okay.” I sat with my hands flat on the table. Jessica leaned into the side of my leg, as though in comfort and sensing my unease.

  “You have to go and act like a gentleman. But not even that. You even went and remembered my seafood allergy!” She sounded amazed I’d remember but there were a lot of things about Amy I would never forget. Even when I’d tried. Details that had just stuck with me when I cycled through the thoughts of my past. She went on. “I had to remind David every single time we went out I was deathly allergic. It was like I never even registered with him. Yet you remember. From five freaking years ago.” She angled another look my way. “And you even remembered how I like my omelets.”

  I smiled, leaning back in my seat. I reached down to pet Jessica, the tactile sensation of her fur soothing. “That morning we met, Maria had said they were your favorite and she’d been making them to help you feel more at home. She ended up making them all the time for us because they became my favorite too.”

  She blushed a little and that made me grin.

  “I guess some people are just naturally more thoughtful then others,” she murmured, off hand.

  I hated that she was wearing her sunglasses and I couldn’t see her eyes, and the emotions that she’d never been able to hide from me.

  “This David guy sounds like a real piece of work, if you ask me. How hard is it to remember a seafood allergy and favorite style of omelet for your own girlfriend?”

  “Yeah, he is—was,” she self-corrected, “a piece of work, in the end.” There was heat in her voice and I could tell she was back to fiery instead of sad. “And I dated him for six months! So what does that make me? I must be a piece of work, too.”

  I grinned slyly. “Well that’s one-hundred percent correct.”

  She smiled back and shook her head at me. “Dammit Chandler. You are still the same guy, aren’t you?”

  “My bad,” I apologized, adding some serious dose of seriousness as I could. “Please. Continue.”

  “This is going to sound totally silly—I realize that. But you’re here and so you have to listen to me rant. But…I was thinking back through all the relationships in my life, and I’ve never had a good one. Not one. I’m great at relationships in the three to six month range, and then they go sour. But even then, I’ve never really had a great boyfriend experience.”

  There were many ways I could take this but I knew Amy wasn’t shy about any topic. I had to not read into it unless she actually said the words. “You mean in general, or in bed?” I asked.

  Amy didn’t disappoint. She rarely had, only when she kept rejecting me. “Both, but especially the sex,” she said, matter of fact.

  I had just entered dangerous territory—sex was my favorite topic. Especially with Amy. “Uh… Never?” I paused for a second, more then dubious at that statement. “What about Scott, before you two broke up?” I asked, referring to her college boyfriend. The douchebag that had told her she sucked in bed.

  Amy shook her head. “I faked it most times with him.”

  I cracked up at that, pounding the table with my fist. “Poor guy.”

  “No,” she corrected, scoffing. “Poor Amy’s sex life. When am I going to have a good boyfriend experience, Chandler? The full experience, in and out of bed? Is it ever going to happen for me?”

  I sighed and looked off into the distance. “I don’t know…but I hope you do. Someday.”

  We sat in silence for a moment, contemplating. I had another crazy idea, but I didn’t want to tell her. We’d always been attracted to each other but Amy still wasn’t a one-night stand type of girl and those were the girls I’d always liked best back in the day. Still did. My views on my life hadn’t changed a bit. In fact, they were stronger then ever. However, this connection I had with her went beyond wanting to sleep with her—I’d always felt like she accepted and understood me. There were other thoughts rolling in my head but no names for them. So I sat there grateful she’d resisted. Well, okay, only a little grateful. To imagine a world where Amy hated my guts… I could appreciate her logic all those years. I still didn’t like it, but we were here, now, together and in the city where we first met. It was, in many ways, poetic.

  She scrunched her face, and finally took off her sunglasses. “Chandler…you’re a good guy.”

  I held a hand up because this was the second time she’d said this and I didn’t want to disappoint her in my lack of growth. That would be self-evident soon enough. “Me, a good guy? That is very debatable. Depending on who you ask.”

  She gave me a big grin that I liked seeing on her pretty face. “Okay, you’re a good lover.”

  I nodded, as matter fact as she was earlier. “The best, actually.”

  “Shut up, and don’t be so cocky,” she responded, just a little bit playful. “I know it was a long time ago that we lived together, and it sort of seems like a distant memory… But this morning I was thinking…why didn’t you and me ever…but I’m sure you never think twice about it anymore.” She sighed, once again looking out the window. “You’ve probably had a revolving door of women. No doubt they were all gorgeous, too, huh?” She looked back at me, an unreadable expression on her face. “You ever think about what would have happened between us if we’d just had a little more time? In some ways, I kind of regret not testing those waters. I’ve always thought you’d be attentive, make it good for both of us and at least that way, I would have had one good experience, y’know?”

  My heart began to pound as I guessed what she might say next. But before she could finish her sentence, a tall, dark, Spanish woman, who I unfortunately knew, approached our table. Why was I constantly getting cockblocked when it came to Amy?

  “Chandler!” she said with a heavy accent. “It’s so good to see you!”

  She stood with her arms open, right next to me in a way that made it look like an extremely rude gesture if I didn’t get up to reciprocate her hug. I felt Amy’s eyes examining me closely to see how I reacted.

  “N-Nina—right?” I said, nearly forgetting her name. For a second, I thought I had it wrong when I saw her expression tense a little, like I’d displeased her.

  “Sí!” she said, smiling brightly
. “Nina.”

  “So good to see you,” I said, standing up half-heartedly from my chair. Jessica, at my feet, let out a low growl. She didn’t like it when I hugged most women. Nina smiled and gave me another hug, and pressing her enormous fake breasts into me. I felt her hands roam and had to make sure they didn’t roam too far south.

  “You never called me back!” she exclaimed, a scold in her voice. “I was worried something had happened to you!” Nina turned to Amy, who she had strategically ignored seeing for the first minute or so of our encounter. She leaned across the table, and I cringed as she gave Amy a pointblank view of her cleavage.

  “Nice to meet you.” She extended a hand. “I’m Nina.”

  Amy flashed a brief smile and returned her handshake. “I’m Amy.”

  “Amy’s a very good friend of mine,” I said. “We were just catching up.”

  “Oh, well so nice to meet you,” Nina said, giving a slow, equally fake smile. It was a little calculated.

  The waiter arrived with our food just then.

  “Looks like it’s time for us to eat. Talk to you later, Nina!” I said the words politely but firmly. I needed to get back to what Amy was going to say next. There was no way she was just going to throw the idea of us being romantic onto the table so suddenly, was there?

  “Of course,” Nina purred, her hands running up my arm. “Chandler, we must get together soon. Call me.”

  “Good to see you, Nina,” I said, giving her my best non-answer.

  She smiled toward us both before turning to leave. The waiter put our plates down in front of Amy and me.

  “Enjoy,” he said, bowing then leaving us be. Finally.

  “Sorry for the interruption,” I said, eager to get back to our conversation. I leaned forward, completely disinterested in my breakfast. “What were you saying?”

  Amy’s expression had altered again. She didn’t look sad or happy anymore. She just looked dejected, and blank.

  “Nothing,” she said, forking her food and looking down. “I had nothing else to say.”

  It really was like nothing had changed between us in those five years. And by that, I meant that we were right back to square one. Her rejection, and not just physically, would never fully be eased from my mind. For a few weeks, I’d had a real friend. Probably the best friend I’d ever had. As it turned out, even when I didn’t sleep with a girl, I still messed up the relationship part of things.

  I cut into my omelet, frustrated but not unfamiliar with this feeling. She was still the one girl who I’d stopped short of getting into bed. The one girl that I wanted to sleep with the most, had been waiting for…and here she was. A second chance? Maybe. In many ways, I knew Amy would have to make the first move because me pushing just made her retreat. She’d have to be the one okay with going to the next level when I already was and I knew I’d always be wishing.

  Because reality was rarely pretty. Of all the hearts I’d broken over the years, hers was one I could never forgive myself for breaking.

  The truth of the matter was that I’d never be able to be with a woman like Amy. She was far too good for me. I knew it, and so did she, deep down and that, too, was an old feeling. And a reason I kept forgetting when I looked at her, or remembered those small moments we had. Like dancing, or going to the bar and having a real conversation. The way she listened to me, and how easy she was at telling it like it is. The sensory memories of those more intimate moments between us had been seared into my brain and they were as vivid now, as they had been five years ago.

  And it was all so pointless.

  We ate awkwardly, in silence. The fact was that in spite of the palpable attraction there had always been between Amy and me, we both knew it was still for the best to keep each other at arm’s length.

  Sixteen

  Chandler

  After Nina’s appearance during lunch, our conversation took a turn for the more impersonal. We caught up on frivolous things—the things not close to our hearts but the things that would make us feel ‘up to date’ on each other’s lives. Amy had moved back to Chicago after college and started work for a sports PR firm. I sensed that I was only getting a small portion of the full story but with Amy, I’d have to be patient. She did admit that something felt off in her life, though, and why she had decided to come to Barcelona even though David had bailed on her. We sauntered back home, taking our time and letting Jess sniff to her heart’s content as we walked along the marina.

  “Sorry about our interruption at lunch. That was awkward,” I said. “Nina and I went on one date a while ago. I didn’t like her though.” I paused. “Honestly, I don’t remember a thing about what she said about herself, or anything. We didn’t mesh at all, so it was a pretty short-lived relationship. If you could even call it that.”

  “Oh yeah?” Amy shot me a look that conveyed she was not impressed by my latest dating mistake. “Did you sleep with her? No, you know what, don’t bother answering that. I’m pretty sure I know the answer.”

  Her words had knives in them, and I wasn’t too sure where the animosity was coming from. I narrowed my eyes. “I’m sensing some judgment coming from you.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just…I don’t know, Chandler. I’m hungover. And not in a good mood. And seeing you with her reminded me of something.”

  “And what was that?” I asked her, sharply.

  “It reminded me that I’ll never…” She trailed off and once again, I knew I’d only get to hear half of it. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

  We arrived at my apartment and walked up the stairs to the third floor. “You’ve been saying that a lot this morning,” I returned, unleashing Jess so she could go take her own nap. “About how something you’re about to say is silly or stupid.”

  “I’m going to take a nap. Do you mind?” she asked, ignoring me instead.

  “Course not,” I returned, not wanting to upset her more. I was really hoping this David guy hadn’t permanently damaged her self-confidence because the Amy I’d come to appreciate didn’t take crap from anyone. “I’m about to head to basketball practice anyway so it’ll be nice and quiet.”

  She assessed the living room. “Is the couch comfortable?”

  “Not at all.” I gestured for her to follow me. “This is my room,” I said, heading toward my room and flipping on the light since the blinds were shut. I looked around, seeing that Maria had cleaned up.

  “Your room…?” Amy echoed slowly. “You want me to sleep in…your…bed?”

  I looked over at her. “Why not?” I smiled. “And it looks like Maria changed the sheets for me. This room was a mess when I left.”

  “You mean…as in, Doña Maria?” she asked, confused.

  “Yep. We’ve always stayed in contact,” I replied. At hearing those words, the irony of it hit us both.

  Amy, of course, ignored that, too. “She changes your sheets now?” she asked, aloof.

  “When I’m gone she watches Jess at her apartment, then walks her back here so she can greet me the morning I get home,” I explained. On cue, Jess trotted after us but then lost interest in us and trotted back out. “Maria knows how much I hate flying home to an empty apartment. And sometimes she does some other homey stuff around the place.”

  “Nice of her.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I said. “Too she bad left the city this afternoon for the next few weeks or we could have a reunion. She’s going to a part of Spain with her boyfriend that’s pretty rural and poor reception; otherwise, I’d call her up. I know she’d love to see you after all this time…”

  “Oh? That would have been nice, actually,” she said, rubbing her eyes, “how is she?”

  “Just had a baby boy in December,” I said, shaking my head but grinning. “Can you believe it, at her age? That guy from five years ago. Match made in heaven, I guess.”

  I don’t think Amy was paying attention to anything I was saying about our former host mother because she was yawning non-stop. I pulled the sheets and co
mforter back for her.

  “Well, I’m going to head to bed,” she said, sounding exhausted. “This time change is killing me. You’re not tired?”

  “A little. I’ll go to practice, then come home and crash most likely.” I headed to the door. Over my shoulder I added, “Have a good nap.”

  Saying nothing, she collapsed on the bed, not bothering to shut the door. I refilled Jessica’s water and peaked in the fridge. Doña Maria had left some Spanish tortilla inside as well as a note.

  For my special little boy.

  She babied me, but I didn’t mind it. And her Spanish tortilla was second to none in my book. I walked over to my room to let Amy know about the food in case she was hungry when she woke up.

  “Hey Amy, if—”

  She was dead passed out, with the lights still on, holding onto one of my pillows for a cuddle partner.

  “All right then. Goodnight.”

  She looked so damn peaceful sleeping there. In my bed. It’s a Cal King and we’d both fit on it just fine. I tried not to keep thinking things like that but I couldn’t help it. Sex wasn’t the only thing I thought about when it came to this woman but it sure as hell took precedence over everything else sometimes. With Amy passed out, I quietly grabbed my workout clothes and changed into basketball shorts and a t-shirt in my bathroom. Before I left, I took off her shoes, tucked her in, and wrote her a little note for when she woke up. With that, I picked up my bag from the closet and headed to practice.

  ***

  “We’re playing Serbia tomorrow,” our head coach said in his accented English. The twelve of us huddled before practice. “They are a powerhouse, and it’s not going to be easy. But if we can beat them, it shows we’re one of the best teams in the league. If not the best.” He paused, then looked at Tony. “What’s our strategy Le Ral?”

  Tony Le Ral, our resident Frenchmen, answered, “We need to score from the outside, establish the three-point game early.”

  “Exactly. Spiros, this is a big game for you tomorrow,” he said, turning to me. “We need you to come ready to shoot tomorrow. Can you handle that?”