I’m about to go back to my block of code when my phone rings. I look at the screen and see an unfamiliar local number. For one second, the thought occurs to me that maybe Noelle got my number. Is that possible?
No, not possible. Wishful thinking.
I pick up the phone, bracing myself for a telemarketer. “Hello?”
“Oh, hi!” It’s a female voice. High and young-sounding. “Is this Jeremy?”
I hesitate. “Yes…”
“Hey, it’s Hayley.” When I don’t say anything, she adds, “Fanny gave me your number. Is that okay?”
I stare at my phone in shock. Fanny told me she gave my number to the cute girl at Ben’s but I didn’t really believe it. It’s even more shocking that she’s actually calling me.
“Sure,” I say. “Um, hey, Hayley.”
“Fanny keeps going on and on about what a great guy you are,” Hayley says. “So I figured, I’ve got to meet this great guy.”
“Great guy?” I repeat. “You may have the wrong number.”
I’m not sure I was joking, so it’s a good thing she laughs.
“Fanny says she’s the neighborhood matchmaker,” Hayley says. “She’s intent on my finding a boyfriend.”
“Yeah, same here.” I clear my throat. “Well, girlfriend, obviously…”
Christ, I sound like a moron. But again, she laughs. “Right. I gathered that.”
She’s pretty. I know you can’t tell anything from a person’s voice, but it’s hard to believe the girl with this voice isn’t hot. I’m ninety-five percent sure. And if she’s hot, she’s picky. This date is going to be nothing but awkward.
“So what do you say, Jeremy? Want to give this a whirl?”
“I…” My throat feels dry. I cough a few times. “Do you really think it’s a good idea?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Have you ever been on a blind date before?”
“Honestly? No.”
“Right, so…” How can I describe this to her? “What if we don’t like the way each other looks?”
She lets out a little huff. “Are you really that superficial, Jeremy?”
Me? Am I superficial? She doesn’t even have a clue what I’m worried about. “No, I’m not.”
“So,” she says, “are you busy tomorrow night?”
I’d rather be going out with Noelle, but let’s face it, that’s a pipe dream. This is a female of the right approximate age and she’s interested in going on a date with me. I should go.
I look down at my right arm, clenched tight against my chest. Even if I’m sitting down, my forearm crutch out of sight, my arm gives me away. It’s much more conspicuous than my weak leg—well, until I start walking. Every three months, I get Botox shots to the muscles in my arm, which doesn’t make my arm hang straight down anymore the way it used to because the tendons have shortened by now, but at least my elbow loosens a little and my fist isn’t quite so tight. I look better after the shots, but they only last about a month and a half, so after half the time, my arm is a tight mess. I’m not due for my next set of injections until after New Year.
Maybe I should warn her. Fanny claimed she explained about my disability, but she didn’t give Hayley a realistic picture. If this date has any chance of working, Hayley needs to know what she’s walking into.
I should tell her.
“No,” I say. “I’m not busy.”
“You are now,” she says. “You’re having dinner with me.”
Well, she knows I use a cane. How bad could it be?
Chapter 13: Noelle
I can’t say at what point I know I’m being set up.
Shannon has hinted that she knows a lot of single men, but I haven’t yet given her the go-ahead to set me up on a date. The thought of dating again is depressing to me. Dating is what young people do. I’m not young anymore. I should be spending my nights watching The Tonight Show with my husband while wearing my fuzzy slippers, not going out with men I barely know and making awkward conversation. I thought I was done with that. That was the best part of being married—you lose some of the excitement, but you get to spend every evening in your fuzzy slippers.
Shannon mentioned she invited “some friends” to her apartment for dinner, and suggested I join her. She made a point of mentioning it in front of Henry, who was over the moon excited about an evening playing with Katie. He has a massive crush on her, although I’m not sure he realizes it. I think she likes him too—they want to spend every moment together.
Yes, my eight-year-old son has a more active love life than I do.
After I picked out a green dress that fell just below my knees, I went to the bathroom to do my makeup. At this point, I must have suspected a setup, because I don’t wear much makeup as a rule, but I found myself smearing every product I owned onto my skin. I even dug out my eyelash curler, and I hate that thing with a passion.
If I hadn’t seen Jeremy at the drug store the other day, I probably would be showing up in jeans and a sweater. But Jeremy made me realize how sexually frustrated I am. I mean, we’ve spent less than twenty minutes together ever, and I can’t stop thinking about him. Just to show how obsessed I am, I went home after we talked at the drug store and tried to look him up on Facebook. Then I realized I didn’t know his last name, so I spent over an hour going through the Facebook profile of every Jeremy in the neighborhood in a desperate attempt to find him. (It goes without saying there are a lot of Jeremys in this neighborhood.)
At some point, I gave up, but not before acknowledging that I’m more than a little horny. I don’t want to be celibate the rest of my life. I want a man.
And since an hour-plus of Facebook searching didn’t turn up the right Jeremy, I may as well see what else is out there.
In any case, when I ring the doorbell to Shannon’s apartment, clutching a ten-dollar bottle of wine in my hand, I feel cautiously optimistic. It’s time to get back on the horse. I want this. I’m ready.
“Noelle!” The giddy smile on Shannon’s face when she opens the door for me is the final bit of proof I need that this is a setup. Well, good. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“I brought wine.” I thrust the bottle at her chest, hoping she doesn’t notice how cheap it is. “And Henry, obviously.”
Shannon smiles down at my son. “Henry, do you want to go play with Katie?”
Henry lets out a “whoop” and races past Shannon into the apartment. He’s really got a crush. I’m jealous. I wish there were a guy out there who felt so strongly about me.
Shannon links arms with me and pulls me into her apartment. She’s trying to keep me from escaping. That’s not a great sign. “And there’s someone I’d like you to meet, my dear.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, really?”
“His name is Bert and he’s a friend of Mike’s from work.” Before I can say a word, she plows ahead: “I know you said you weren’t ready to date yet, but Bert is a really great guy. Mike told him about you, and he was dying to meet you.”
“Shannon…”
“Just stay for dinner,” she begs me. “No obligation. If you hate him, you never have to see him again.”
I could pretend to object and put up a fuss, but who am I kidding? I knew Shannon was setting me up tonight—that’s why I’m all dolled up. I want to meet this guy. Who knows—maybe Bert is my future second husband. Or future ex-husband, based on how my luck is going lately.
Shannon pulls me to the living room, where her husband Mike is talking to a man sitting next to him on the couch. When we enter the room, the man stands up, and…
Okay, it might be that I watched a lot of episodes of Sesame Street when Henry was a little kid and the power of suggestion is strong, but I swear to God, this man looks like a human version of Bert from Bert & Ernie. He’s skinny as a rod, with a puff of hair emanating from the top of his skull, and a mouth that forms a straight line across his face. His skin is even slightly yellow, although in the case of a human being, that could indica
te serious illness.
I’m sure it sounds terribly shallow, but I don’t find a human version of Bert of Bert & Ernie attractive. Especially considering Greg was a decent looking guy, and Jeremy—well, he’s really hot. Bert isn’t hot. He’s a human Muppet.
But the worst part is he’s looking at me like I’m a human Muppet. Is there a Muppet named Noelle? I don’t remember that.
“Bert, this is my good friend, Noelle,” Shannon says to him. “Noelle, this is Bert.”
“Hello,” Bert says in a nasal voice that sounds so much like Bert from Bert & Ernie that I nearly burst into giggles. I think Jeremy has turned on my giggle-faucet. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
He doesn’t hold out a hand for me to shake. I get the feeling neither of us want to touch each other—an auspicious start to any date.
Shannon brings me a drink while we’re waiting for dinner, and her husband immediately (and conspicuously) disappears, leaving me all alone with Bert. I hate this feeling. We both know why we’re here, and the fact that he clearly isn’t into me makes the whole thing incredibly awkward. I don’t know if it would be better if he liked me and I didn’t like him. But it couldn’t be worse.
Bert frowns at me and tugs on the collar of his turtleneck. Oh my God, he’s even wearing a striped vest on top of a white turtleneck the way Bert does! This is so surreal. I want to ask him if he’s trying to impersonate Bert the Muppet, but I feel like even if we’re not hitting it off, that’s not an appropriate thing to say.
Finally, it’s Bert who breaks the silence. “How much do you weigh?” he asks me.
My mouth falls open. Did he really just ask me that?
“That’s sort of a personal question,” I say.
“Why?” His lips purse. Or at least, I think they do. His mouth is still a straight line, and I can just barely see the red in his lips. “Would you be offended if I asked your height?”
“Well…” I glance at the back to see if Shannon is coming out. “I guess not.”
“So why do questions about your weight offend you?”
“Because.” I can’t believe I’m explaining this to someone who isn’t my eight-year-old son. Hell, even Henry would know better. “People are sensitive about their weight.”
“Are you sensitive about your weight?”
“Well…” Oh my God, where is Shannon? “I guess… not?”
“So how much do you weigh?”
I feel like this conversation will never end if I don’t give the guy an answer, so I finally say, “One hundred and thirty pounds.”
He clucks his tongue. “I only date women who weigh less than one hundred and twenty pounds.”
“Oh,” I manage. Um, good?
He’s quiet for a moment. “How old are you?”
I’m trying to figure out how the hell to respond when Shannon pops into the room and announces dinner is ready. It’s a good thing, because I’m sure whatever I would have said would not have been nice.
The kids are eating chicken nuggets and pasta in Katie’s room, so we adults can have some privacy. I know it would be rude to ask if I could leave at this point, but I’m really not feeling any kind of love connection with Bert. But at the same time, Shannon worked hard to prepare a meal, and I don’t want to just leave. Unlike Bert, I have some social skills.
Shannon really went all out. There’s a platter of chicken pieces on the table that smells incredible, a huge multicolored salad, and a bowl of warm rolls and butter. Best of all, there’s my bottle of wine in the middle of the table. Before doing anything else, I reach for it and pour myself a heaping glass. I’m going to need it to get through the evening.
Bert looks at the platter of chicken and narrows his eyes. “Is that chicken… on the bone?”
Shannon nods. “Yes, I cooked them in this Thai marinade that I—”
“I don’t eat chicken on the bone,” Bert interrupts.
She blinks a few times. “You… don’t?”
“I find bones distasteful.” Bert crinkles his nose, which actually looks a lot like a Muppet nose, even though it’s not orange. “I don’t want to choke on one of them.”
“Choke?” Shannon looks at the plate of chicken, then back at him. “They’re very large bones. I think it would be difficult to choke on them.”
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head gravely. “I won’t risk it.”
Shannon seems at a loss, as does Mike, who is clearly not as good friends with this lunatic as he advertised. “I could cut the meat off the bones for you?” she suggests.
Bert considers this, then finally nods. “Yes, that would be acceptable. I’ll leave the room so I don’t have to watch.”
Oh my God, this is the weirdest man I have ever met. He’s probably a serial killer. He probably killed his own parents because… I don’t know… they were playing their bugles too loudly. (That’s the only thing I can recall Ernie doing to annoy Bert.)
Shannon leans over a piece of chicken on the platter and starts slicing the meat off the bone. I’d feel sorry for her, except then I remember she actually brought this man here to go out on a date with me. She deserves to suffer a little for that.
“Gee, he seems lovely,” I mutter under my breath.
“Everyone has eccentricities,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow at her.
“I’m with Noelle,” Mike speaks up. “I’ve worked with the guy for a year, and I had no idea how nutty he was. You know, when we were in the living room, he kept asking me all these questions about my prostate. Like, how often do I get prostate exams…”
“Well, you should get a prostate exam,” Shannon says.
“That’s not the point, Shannon.”
Bert returns to the room a few minutes later, and appears satisfied with the chicken pieces Shannon has provided for him. He then goes for the salad, taking out only the tomato pieces and nothing else. This guy is really something else.
I try to ignore my would-be date and dig into my chicken. It’s actually really good—I’ll have to get the recipe from Shannon. I’ve been trying to cook more lately, since I’m on a budget, but that mostly seems to involve things that come out of a box. Chicken is cheap.
“So,” Shannon says brightly, “has anyone seen any good movies lately?”
I don’t know why, but the first thing that pops into my head is sitting in a dark theater with Jeremy, our shoulders touching. Maybe his arm sneaks around my shoulders. Maybe when the plot gets slow, he leans in to—
“I don’t like movies,” Bert says. “I think they’re insipid.”
Well, that shuts down the conversation real quick.
“By the way,” I say to Shannon, “did you notice the Christmas tree is missing from the lobby?”
“Oh my God, yes!” she cries. “I didn’t have a chance to ask about it. Did the tree get damaged?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s that jerk in 5B again. He apparently complained about it.”
Her eyes widen. “He complained about a Christmas tree? Why?”
“I’d assume because he’s a crabby, miserable Grinch who wants everyone else to be miserable.”
She’s quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Actually, I don’t think he’s like that.”
“What are you talking about, Shannon?” I burst out. “He slammed the door in your daughter’s face!”
“Yes, but…” Her eyebrows bunch together. “I was thinking about it, and… I really don’t think he meant any harm. He’s just… lonely.”
“Of course he’s lonely if he’s slamming the door in everyone’s faces!”
Shannon looks like she has more to say, but Bert is clearing his throat very loudly. Over and over. It’s so loud, there’s no way we can possibly ignore him. He doesn’t stop until we’re all staring at him.
“Excuse me, Shannon.” Bert is frowning. “You said you got all the bones out of this chicken, but there was a bone in my mouth.”
If it wasn’t all so awful,
I would have burst out laughing at the baffled look on Shannon’s face. “Are… are you sure?”
“I think I know when there’s a bone in my mouth!” Bert says. “I could have choked on it!”
Shannon’s cheeks redden. “I… I’m so sorry.”
I look down at my glass of wine and see it’s nearly empty aside from a thin film of purple at the bottom. My, that went quickly. I glance at the bottle on the table, wondering if I should have a second. I’m not much of a drinker, but tonight feels like a night I need alcohol.
I reach for the bottle, which is right in front of Bert’s plate. And he screams.
He literally screams. I’m not exaggerating in any way. He opens his straight line of a mouth and lets out an ear-piercing shriek. All three of us freeze, wondering what in hell brought on that reaction.
“You almost poked me in the eye!” He glares at me accusingly. He holds his thumb and forefinger millimeters apart. “You were this close.”
“I was?” I wasn’t. I was nowhere in the vicinity of his eye. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, you were!” he practically shouts. Then he starts poking his finger at me, stopping inches away from my face. “How do you like it? It’s not pleasant, is it?”
No. It is not. It is not pleasant at all.
It’s becoming painfully obvious that I’m not going to fall in insta-love with any random guy I get set up with. Jeremy is a great guy and I’m wildly attracted to him. If I’m lucky enough to run into him again, I’m going to let him know it.
Chapter 14: Jeremy
So this is how much I care about this date:
I am currently purchasing new clothing.
I’m not sure where all my dress shirts went. Maybe I threw them out when I committed myself to being a shut-in. I find only two shirts in my wardrobe that aren’t T-shirts or sweatshirts. One was formerly white, but now somehow looks pink, in spite of the fact that I don’t own anything red or pink that might have ruined it in the wash. The other is missing three buttons. I might have been able to get away with two missing buttons, but if you show up with a shirt with three missing buttons, people start to think you don’t really care about your appearance, or else that you’re homeless.
How the Grinch Stole My Heart Page 7
