Marcus pretended to be worried. “Oh, I guess I’d better watch where my eyes wander.”
Cathy was a little embarrassed; she’d made herself sound like a real tough cookie. “I’m not that bad anymore. I only get pissed when it’s done in a business setting. On a date it’s not so bad as long as you remember that a person comes with the breasts. We’re a package deal.”
Marcus wanted to howl with laughter but he remembered where they were. “I like your sense of humor.” He chuckled.
Cathy was still giggling when the waiter took their drink orders. As she glanced around the restaurant, it honestly looked as if everyone had forgotten they’d come there to eat.
Marcus glanced around. “Welcome to the fish bowl,” he said, seeing all the attention register with her.
Cathy laughed as she looked around the room again. “How strange is this?”
“You know how I said earlier that you get used to it?”
“Yeah?”
“Truth is, you never get used to it, you just learn to adapt. It’s not easy.”
“I can see that.”
Cathy perused the menu. “My goodness, everything looks so good.”
The waiter brought their drinks.
“Would you like to start with an appetizer?” he asked.
Cathy faced a moment of truth. Would she show restraint and graze on a salad? Or give in to her growling stomach? She hadn’t eaten anything that day other than a couple of bites of toast without coffee. A little uncomfortable, she continued to scan the menu. I might as well swing for the fences and see what happens, she thought.
She stepped up to the plate. “I think I’ll have the butternut squash ravioli with oxtail ragout and bay leaf cream.” Cathy was afraid of Marcus’s reaction but when she looked up he was smiling.
“Good choice.” The waiter turned to Marcus. “And you, sir?”
“I’ll have the tasting of fresh wild mushrooms.”
“Very good, sir. Do you want to order your entrée now? Or do you need more time?”
Marcus looked at her. “Are you ready to order?”
Feeling a little emboldened she spoke up. “As a matter of fact I am. I’ll have the sea scallops sauté with caramelized endive.”
“And I’ll have the breast of free range chicken with preserved lemon and Greek olives.”
“Thank you. I will be back with your appetizers shortly.”
The vibe between them was relaxed and easy, just like that of two old friends. Marcus studied her soft, cherrycolored lips as she sipped water. Friends didn’t watch friends like that and he knew it. His mind raced at a hundred miles a minute and he needed to rein himself in. Slow down, get to know her first, he told himself. Talk about her kids. He piped up, “You know, I’d love to hear a little more about your sons, Cathy.”
At first, Cathy looked at Marcus as if he’d grown another head. She rarely met men who wanted to talk about her kids. Whether he knew it or not, he’d just scored big time. Alex and Andrew were the only subjects she liked talking about more than the Yankees. And this night she had the best of both worlds.
“Oh, haven’t I bored you enough with that already? You know how we parents are. Once you get us started you’re hard pressed to get us to shut up,” she said playfully.
“I’ll take my chances.” He took a sip of water. “Do they have middle names?”
“Yes, and they’re going to sound truly pretentious.”
“How pretentious can it be?”
“Andrew Michael Chambers Carlyle and Alexander Matthew Chambers Carlyle.”
“I think they sound great. They will be quite a mouthful for a bride to remember, however.”
Cathy winced at the thought of her babies getting married. “Oh, bite your tongue. I’m still trying to get used to the dating stuff.”
He laughed. “I guess it’s the same for all moms everywhere.”
“It’s not like I’ve stopped them from dating. I’ve lived through a couple of teen romances.”
Marcus made a face. “Teen angst combined with teen romance? That couldn’t have been easy.”
“You have no idea.”
“Kind of makes you wonder how our parents did it.” He laughed
Cathy chuckled softly; she obviously knew something he didn’t.
“Girls today are really different. They are much more assertive,” Cathy said.
“I know what you mean.”
“It used to be that guys would ask you for your phone number. I don’t think my sons have ever had to. Girls give them their home and cell phone numbers, along with their email address and instant messenger IDs.”
Marcus laughed. “It sounds like they cover all their bases.”
“Cover their bases? Hell, they blanket them.”
A passing thought made Marcus laugh.
Cathy was intrigued. “What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking about today’s more aggressive young women and their contact information.”
She was still a little puzzled. “What about it?”
“I guess I went old school when I asked you for your number.”
“I guess you did.”
The two laughed together.
“It’s not easy watching your boys grow up, is it?”
“Yes and no. They are still my babies even though Andrew is 6’2 and Alexander is 6’3. Somehow they never stop being those little bundles I brought home from the hospital.”
“Those are some pretty big babies.”
“I know.”
The waiter returned with their appetizers.
“That ravioli looks good. Mind if I have a bite?” Marcus smiled.
“Be my guest,” she said.
Marcus liked that she was so willing to share. Cathy wondered if she’d passed some kind of test.
He took a bite. “This is good. Would you like to try my appetizer? Do you even like mushrooms?”
“I love mushrooms.” Before she could put her fork up to get a mushroom he fed one to her.
A little taken aback, Cathy didn’t know whether it was Chanterelle or Marcus’s feeding her the mushroom that made it taste especially good. Chances were it was the latter that had amped up her taste buds. “That’s terrific.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin.
“I know.” He paused to enjoy a few mushrooms. “So what are your sons’ majors?”
“Andrew is a business finance and economics major and Alexander is an adolescent education major with a concentration in African American and American history.”
He was impressed. “Wow, their majors are totally different. They obviously have distinct personalities.”
“It’s been that way since birth. When they were babies I got tired of looking like Rocky Raccoon breast feeding for three months.”
Marcus was surprised. “You breast fed twins for three months?”
She nodded. “I was a regular 7-11. That’s why I switched to formula to make life easier. At least that was the idea.”
“I guess they had other ideas.”
“Oh boy, did they ever. They didn’t even take the same kind of bottles. Andrew went on Enfamil, Alexander went on Isomil. I knew right then and there it was going to be interesting.”
“So after all the late nights, bottles, formula, cuts and bruises, would you say it was worth it?”
She answered without hesitation. “I couldn’t have better sons if I’d mail ordered them.” She leaned in a little closer. “Now what about you? What were you like growing up?”
Marcus settled into his seat. “I think I was a pretty well adjusted kid. My parents were really involved in the school so my sisters and I always had them in our corner.”
“Interracial couples are a little more accepted now, but back then it wasn’t easy.” She’d read about his mother and father.
“That’s the truth. Even though we lived in a Northeastern state we were still close enough to farm country to have a problem every now and then.”
“I give you
r parents a lot of credit. They managed to give you and your sisters a good sense of yourself and your heritage on both sides.”
Cathy was horrified by the strange look that came over Marcus’s face. She thought she must have put her foot in her mouth up to her knees. When the busboy came over to clear away the appetizer plates, she said, “Listen, I apologize if I said something out of line. It just came out.” She apologized as fast as she could.
“You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad. It just sounds like you have a better idea than most of what it’s like to be bi-racial.”
Cathy tried to brush it off. “Didn’t you go out with…” she blurted out. Horrified, she realized she’d inserted her foot back into her mouth, only this time it was thigh high. “I’m so sorry. I usually engage my brain before my mouth gets in gear.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re right, I have dated a few women who are bi-racial like me. But it seems like you get it.”
“My maternal grandmother who was born in South Carolina in 1904 had a white mother and a black father.”
“That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t, especially after her father died and her mother went back to her family. Grandma Salley was raised by her father’s family.”
“Her mother never came back for her?”
“No. It was probably just as well. Her family wouldn’t have accepted her and only God knows what would have happened.”
“It’s a shame but that’s probably true,” he conceded. “Is your mother an only child?”
“No. She has an older sister, Aunt Peg.”
“Your grandmother had only two kids?”
“Yes, but she helped to raise five, including three grandchildren. When my cousin Madison was born my grandmother lived with Aunt Peg until he went to pre-school. Once my mother got pregnant with me, she came to live with us and she took care of my sister and me.” Cathy rubbed her eyes to hold back the tears. She had been close to Grandma Salley and many of her happiest memories were of times with her grandmother in the kitchen. Her feelings stirred, Cathy exhaled to regain her composure.
“Are you all right?”
Cathy smiled warmly. “I’m fine. I just find myself missing her at the oddest times.” She paused. “Anyway, I remember how much I hated it when my friends would ask us who that white lady at my house was.”
He made a face. “I know how that feels.”
”I guess that’s why I have such empathy for what you and your family must have faced from people wanting to draw color lines.”
“That’s a powerful observation.”
She nodded in agreement. This is getting a little heavy for dinner conversation. “So how about we change the subject just a little. I read somewhere that you were in the National Honor Society.”
“I held my own.”
“Held your own? You were class valedictorian.”
He seemed bashful. “I did okay.”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No. This is just really different for me.”
“Different? How’s that?”
“Most women talk about the accoutrements of sports and celebrity but not you.”
“I sound like a college interviewer, right?” Cathy’s selfeffacing humor made a brief appearance.
He laughed. “Not at all.”
“Well, to be honest, I find intelligence to be very attractive. In fact, that’s why you’re my favorite player.” “Really?” He seemed pleased.
“Yes. You’re a great object lesson for teenage boys.” “Oh, so this is a parental thing,” he joked.
She laughed. “Yes and no. Yes, because I could always point to you as an athlete and a scholar who was voted most likely to succeed.”
He sipped his water. “And no because?”
“Well, you were very cute in high school,” she said coyly.
“I certainly hope you think I’ve improved with age. High school was such a long time ago.”
“I do think you’ve improved with age.”
He smiled. “After all, I graduated almost 16 years ago.”
“If you think that’s a long time ago, I better not tell you how long it’s been since I graduated.” She winked and he flashed her that megawatt smile of his.
The waiter brought the entrees to the table. They continued to chitchat about different things from politics to movies. Cathy found his easy going manner disarming, while he took note of her distinctive North meets South blend of cosmopolitan sophistication and Old South gentility.
“So you grew up watching the Yankees, too,” Cathy noted.
He smiled. “Yeah, I just knew I wanted to wear pinstripes and be just like those guys.”
Cathy put her fork down. “Things are a lot different these days. Years ago you only saw athletes during their regular season. Now with all these endorsement deals athletes are in the spotlight 365 days a year.”
Marcus’s mind went back to the deal he’d signed the day before. “You’re right.” He tried not to grimace.
Suddenly Cathy remembered Marcus had several endorsements and quickly used a Seinfeld catch phrase. “Not that there is anything wrong with that.”
He laughed. “No offense taken. You’re right, it is a different business. We’re offered hefty endorsement deals and most athletes, including me, take them.”
“I’m not passing judgment,” she insisted.
“I didn’t think you were. It is what it is and most of the time it’s a mixed blessing,” he reassured her. “Nowadays there is a lot more money and a whole lot more exposure and responsibility.”
“Do you ever think about that kid who might have your poster on his bedroom door?” Cathy was thinking about her own sons.
He got serious. “I think about that kid all the time. That’s why I do my best to set a good example and keep my nose clean. It doesn’t make for good copy, but it keeps me out of trouble.”
Marcus wished just keeping his nose clean was enough. The media focused a lot of attention on his love life so a night without the paparazzi or Lisa Spellman was a rare treat. If only for one evening Marcus was like any other guy trying to make a good impression on Cathy.
“You’re a very wise man, Marcus.”
“Thank you.” He found it easy to talk to Cathy.
Cathy felt the same way, so much so that it threw her for a loop. Okay, calm down, Cathy, she admonished herself.
Keep it together before you fall for him right here and now . “Would you excuse me for a moment?”
“Sure.” He stood up to get her chair.
“Thanks. I’ll only be a minute.”
“Take your time.” He smiled at her.
Cathy rushed to the ladies’ room, went straight into a
stall, sat down and buried her face in her hands, all her insecurities suddenly surfacing. He seems sincere but he is a
playboy and everyone knows it. She rubbed her forehead. I
need to chill out. Cathy’s rational side slowly emptied into
her consciousness. She was having a good time, so why not
leave it at that? She’d smiled more in this one evening than
she had all year. It was time to stop playing dime store
psychologist, overanalyzing every word and motion. Not
only was it a waste of time, it never helped.
After five minutes, she flushed the toilet and emerged
from the stall. Cathy gave the two women at the sink a fake
little grin. Once they left, she checked her makeup and
then inspected her teeth for endive. All clear, she thought.
Just as she was about to leave, her cell phone rang. Cathy
quickly picked up.
“Hello?” Cathy spoke softly.
“Cathy?”
It was her moody client Steven. “Steven? What’s going
on? Are you sick?” She tried not to seem annoyed. “Kind of.” He was melodramatic.
“What do you mean, kind
of?” Now she was perturbed. “I sent off the manuscript but I’m not sure how I feel
about it.”
“It’s writer’s remorse. All of us get it. Just put it out of
your mind.” She spoke quickly.
“I know you’re right. I just needed to hear you say it.” “Good. I’m glad you feel better.” She looked at her
watch. She didn’t want Marcus to think she’d fallen in. “I
really have to go.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re at home.” He seemed
perplexed since usually Cathy indulged his neurotic spurts. “I’m not, Steven. I’m on a date.”
“You’re on a date?” He was shocked.
She grew more annoyed. “I know it’s shocking but you
didn’t have to make it sound so incomprehensible.” “You should have hung up on me. I’m just being nuts.” “I pick up the phone out of habit. But I can assure you
I am going back to my date.”
“Have a good time.”
He hung up. Cathy regrouped and returned to the
table. Marcus got up and held her chair again.
“Are you all right?” He was concerned.
“I’m fine. Sorry it took me so long.”
“That’s okay. I think there’s another world in the ladies’
room.”
“You have no idea how right you are.”
With a gleam in his eye Marcus said, “So do you feel
like dessert?”
Catherine leaned in to give it right back to him. “Sure.
What did you have in mind?”
“You mean to eat?”
“Of course.”
“How about bittersweet Napoleons with five spice
chocolate ice cream and star anise anglaise?”
“Ooh, sounds good and rich. Can we share?” “That’s cool with me.”
Marcus ordered dessert.
“It’s not chocolate mousse, but it’s good. I think you’ll
like it.”
“I’m sure I will. Everything has been good tonight. The
food was good, the service was great and I haven’t had such
a good time conversing in a while.”
“I take that to be high praise coming from a literary
agent. Don’t you converse for a living?”
“Oh yes. I spend my days talking about book projects,
Not His Type Page 10
