by Lisa Clancey
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I was on my way to my apartment when my cell phone rang. Rick. I had been waiting for his call, and now I felt nervous. Why would I be nervous? We weren’t dating. That’s why I was nervous.
“I’m going home to change before coming over. I spent the night with a woman last night, so I’ve been wearing the same clothes for two days,” he said in a detached way like I didn’t know.
I could do this, “She sounds like a slut. Did she block the door so you couldn’t go home last night?”
“Yeah, she is. But that’s okay. I like sluts.”
“Jackass, if you like sluts…wait a minute. Why should I care if you like sluts? We. Are. Not. Dating,” I said emphasizing each word.
“Okay babe, we aren’t dating. I’ll be at your apartment about seven.” He hesitated, took a deep breath, and added. “Cody asked about the woman I was seeing tonight, so I’ll park closer to Cheri’s apartment in case he takes the kids out for ice-cream tonight.”
“Sounds good.” Uh-oh. “What’d you tell him?”
“I told him I didn’t want him to know because it was someone I haven’t known for long and I wanted to get to know her better.”
“Uh-huh, he said you were full of shit didn’t he?” I said dryly.
He laughed and said, “Yeah he did. See you soon.”
I went home and took a shower. I reapplied makeup and thought I looked better than I did this morning. I looked in the mirror and said to myself, “Yeah, you aren’t dating. So why do you care what you look like?”
By the time I had showered, put my laundry away and emptied the dishwasher it was almost seven. I watched TV waiting for Rick.
Nona called me, giggling, and asked, “What time does the pizza party start. Are you gonna give a big tip?”
“Bite me,” I said dryly.
“Nope. That’s pizza man’s job.” She laughed.
I had the same conversation with Tammy, Cheri, and Felicia. Cheri told me not to hold a gun on him. I told her what she could do with my gun.
I was still on the phone with Felicia when my doorbell rang. I opened the door, and Rick was standing there with a pizza, smiling. My stomach flipped like it does when you have a first date with a man. You know what he looked like because it wasn’t a blind date but you wonder if he was still the guy you met and agreed to the date in the first place. Sometimes a man could change from a really nice guy to a knuckle dragger in just a few hours.
I answered the door while talking on the phone. “Felicia, I have to go. My pizza has just arrived, and I have to pay the delivery guy.” I grinned at Rick.
“Are you gonna give him a tip?” she asked.
“No, not a monetary tip. I will tell him not to spit in the wind, and don’t pull on Super Man’s cape.” I backed up so he could come inside with the pizza and soda. No beer, so I guess seeing me drunk once was enough for him.
“You know,” she said, secretive, “you’d get faster delivery if you sleep with the delivery man.”
“Is that why you get pizza delivered in ten minutes or less?” I asked.
“No. My pizza deliverer is usually a girl or a sixteen-year-old,” she said, disappointed.
“Oh…sorry to hear that,” I said sadly. Then I cheered up and said, “But on the bright side my pizza deliverer isn’t sixteen. Sooo…okay bye.”
“Bye, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She laughed.
“Whoa…that gives me so many options,” I said astonished.
We laughed again and hung up.
Rick had been opening up cabinets looking for glasses and paper plates. I really didn’t know if I liked the way he was making himself at home. I didn’t go through men’s cabinets. Okay, I did but that was neither here nor there and always when they didn’t know about it. He had changed into jeans, green Mossy Oak T-shirt, and tennis shoes. He looked really good in jeans that fit just right and T-shirts that left nothing to my imagination. I was glad I had on jeans and didn’t change into sweat pants. I had thought about it but decided to dress like I was actually leaving the house and would be seen by other people. You know as well as I do women dress for other women and not men. Women check each other out. You know, saying things like, ‘I would never wear those shoes with that dress.’ Or ‘Does she own a mirror?’ Yes, we like to look good for men too, but we have to dress in a way that will make other women say, ‘She looks good, he’ll probably stay with her.’
We sat down at the table, and I asked, “Well, honey, how was your day? Mine pretty much sucked.”
He laughed and said, “Well, it could have been better. I have hopes for a better evening.”
I held up my Sprite glass and said smiling, “Here’s to hoping.”
We bumped glasses drank and ate pizza. The TV was still on and we watched a game show. We chit-chatted about my bust, no not my boobs, the non-informative interviews.
“It sounds like you’re getting nowhere with interviewing relatives,” he said between bites.
“I know,” I said shaking my head. “I’m gonna have to come up with something else. But until then I’m gonna stick with the interviews. Well, I did check out pawn shops but Petunia had already gone, so why go twice?” He nodded his head in agreement taking a big bite of pizza.
We finished our pizza but stayed at the table. He crossed his arms and stretched out his long legs and asked, “Do you like kids?”
Where did that come from? Did he have a…? “Why, do you have a kid?” I can’t believe it. He was a father. Was he married? No, he was divorced. Had he ever been married? Just because he had never married doesn’t mean he didn’t have kids.
He grinned and said, “No, I don’t have a kid. I just wanted to know if you liked kids. Have you thought about having any?” Oh no. Is he asking me to have his children? This was going way to fast. We weren’t even dating so how could I have his kids?
“Fleetingly. Then I’m around children and change my mind. All those runny noses and shitty diapers gross me out.” There, now whatdoya say about that. I just said I didn’t want to have your children, Super Dad. I jerked my head toward him and asked, “Have you ever been married?”
He shook his head, pursed his lips and said, “Nah, never wanted to. You know, with my job I was always gone.” He looked off into the distance like he was thinking and then said, “Yeah, that’s what my brothers say about their kids. They can’t stand to see kids with nasty booger noses, but with their kids, they just rip out a handkerchief or Kleenex and wipe.” He laughed and shook his head. “Do you think all parents are like that?”
“How the hell should I know?” I answered blandly.
“Okay, tell me this, sugar buns,” he asked, trying not to smile. “What would you do if you got pregnant?”
“I’m not getting pregnant because I’m not having sex with anyone.” I paused and then added, “Ever.”
“Ever?” he asked laughing.
“Okay, how about this,” I said shaking my head. Unbelievable. “If I get pregnant, on an off chance that I should have sex, I’ll deal with it.” I raised my eyebrows, made a face and added, “Although, I might have to bring the baby with me while working.” He laughed again. I was not trying to make jokes. I tried not to think about having children. “Hmmm…maybe I should only take jobs where I can work days. Do you think that’s possible?”
“I don’t know. So, you stay working as a private investigator?” he asked, grinning.
“Why are you laughing at me? You’d continue working bad hours, wouldn’t you?” I narrowed my eyes and asked, “What’s with all the questions? Do you always ask the women you’re not dating these personal questions about children? Do you have a list of questions she has to pass?”
“Yes, I have a list of questions for all the women I’m not considering dating. If they don’t pass, I don’t bring them pizza,” he said rolling his eyes. “Why do you always turn things into an argument?”
“I like to argue. Didn’t Cody tell you that? I’m very good a
t it. Maybe I don’t know what I’d do if I got pregnant. I happen to want kids. I just don’t know if I can be a good…or even…look, if I do have a baby I’ll…cross that bridge when I get to it. Because at the rate I’m going, I’ll be buying sexy underwear and joining the nunnery.”
He shook his head and laughed. He was probably thinking about sexy underwear; I don’t think convents would make him grin like that. I narrowed my eyes and said, “I do expect equal help from my husband. I do not change all diapers, and I do not clean up all the barf. And I do not expect the father of my children to ever call it babysitting when he’s staying home with his children. Jeeze, I hate when men do that.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean, how do you babysit your own children? Women don’t call it babysitting.”
“Whoa…okay, I didn’t mean to start a war. I was just asking how you felt about kids.” He smiled and said, “I feel the same way you do about men saying they babysit. And I’m sure you could work during the day more often. I’m sure you work during the day a lot, don’t you?” He asked it without it being a question. So I only nodded. I do work most days. Cheating spouses find it easier to get away from work than home. Sometimes. But why was he asking me about children?
I narrowed my eyes and said, “You didn’t answer my question. Why all the questions about children?”
He shrugged and answered while standing up, “No reason. We picked up a woman today with two kids, and all she did was complain about having to take care of them.” He shook his head and added, “It just made me think about how hard it is to raise children.” Oh okay, I guess that made sense.
We cleaned up the mess and sat in the living room to watch TV. My recliner is one of those big-ass recliners. The kind that made it easier for one large person to sit, one smaller person to curl up in or for two people to sit in, as long the two didn’t weigh two hundred pounds each. Rick was sitting in the recliner, and I was going to sit on the couch when he caught my hand and pulled me toward him. Yeah, like I really fought him to sit on the couch. I might have hated him, and we weren’t dating, but it didn’t hurt to sit by him.
He put his arm around me, and I asked, “Why didn’t you bring beer? Seeing me drunk last night was enough for you?”
“No,” he answered with a laugh. “I’m on call, and you have beer left from last night in your refrigerator. You can drink it even if I can’t.”
“No, I’m good. I’m still trying to recover from last night.” I raised my head and asked him, “Why’d you let me drink so much?”
“I thought I might get lucky.” He grinned.
I grimaced and thought, ‘I bet you did. You were just shit outta luck last night weren’t you, pal?’ “Don’t military gurus say they don’t believe in luck? They believe in skill.” I smiled a tight smile.
“Yeah, but sometimes it’s good just to be lucky.” He grinned back.
I shook my head, and then asked, “Speaking of the Navy, why’d you leave? The Navy, I mean.”
He didn’t answer but sat completely still. He was barely breathing. I didn’t know if he was thinking about what to tell me or he thought if he were quiet long enough I would think he had fallen asleep and wouldn’t press him for an answer.
He really didn’t know me that well. I was impatient; I didn’t wait well. “Hello? Are you thinking of an answer I would believe or how to tell me?” I paused, “You don’t have to tell me everything, just some of the basics. Like, I had heard about this fantastic chick in Alexandria that I really had to meet. I’m not gonna date her, just meet her and get on her last nerve.”
He chuckled but still didn’t answer me. “My goodness was it so awful…that’s it isn’t it? It was awful, wasn’t it? The scars…you were captured. Oh my God.” I leaned over and looked at him. His eyes were dark and hard, and his face was emotionless, his mouth tight. I held his face in my hands and kissed him and whispered, “You don’t have to say anything. I won’t ask again. I’m sorry.” Did I just kiss him?
He waited a long time, probably couldn’t believe I just kissed him and said without emotion, “Yes, I was captured.” He paused. “I was held for…one month before my team could get me out. The psychologists thought it would be better if I left with a medical discharge.” What do you say to that? I’m sorry doesn’t seem to cut it. So, I didn’t say anything. We held each other and watched TV. I said it anyway.
During a commercial break, I said, “Thanks for telling me.” I paused and then added, “I bet you haven’t watched so much TV in your life.”
“Nope, I kind of like it though.” He didn’t say anything more about being captured.
“You must think being a cop in Rapides Parish is boring after being a SEAL,” I said not wanting the answer. Did I really want to hear that being a deputy in Rapides Parish was one step up from watching grass grow while being a SEAL was what he really wanted to do?
“I like it here,” he said, “I’m from here. I have friends and family here. And I like being a cop.” He paused and said, “I have a question for you. Why do you say you hate Cody and me but you really dislike Reed?”
“That’s easy,” I said while shrugging my shoulders, “Hate and love are passionate words. And I have absolutely no passion for Dick Weed. The man makes my skin crawl. There was a time when I considered going out with him. I mean, the man is all that and then some, but he has no scruples. Dating to him is all about sex. He dated a few of the women I know in the department and bragged about it.” I shook my head and added, “That ain’t right.”
“That’s so messed up.” He shook his head and then added when I squinted my eyes at him, “No, what he did was wrong.” He bent his head, kissed me. “You should never let a woman know you talked about her.” So I elbowed him.
