“Oh, yeah, and why’s that?” Nico asked, interested.
I shrugged and scanned the floor to avoid his searching brown eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just kind of old-fashioned that way. The boy is supposed to call the girl. That sounds silly, huh?”
“Not really,” He changed tactics, “Well let’s just skip the phone call business. How about you make babysitting arrangements and I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night?”
I stopped jingling the coins and finally looked at him; I wasn’t used to dealing with such a strong male personality. Nico had a presence about him that commanded respect, and demanded things his way. He had a way of talking that was pleasant but left little room for argument and you just kind of ended up agreeing to whatever he was suggesting. This was new for me. I was accustomed to calling the shots and had my own way of bending situations to suit my own ideas. I felt challenged by his assertive nature and wasn’t sure if I should retreat or rise to the challenge.
Ignoring my inner doubts, I agreed to meet him for dinner the following evening. “Sure. Why not?”
I arrived at the seafood and steak house wearing gray slacks, a casual white top, and heels that gave me some height and showed off my new fire-engine red toe- nail polish.
Nico was waiting just inside the foyer and immediately stood to greet me. We cordially hugged one another then followed our waiter to a small table by a window that overlooked Puget Sound. Nico pulled out the chair for me, and as I took my seat I did a quick mental scan realizing that I had never been on an official date. I frowned and wondered just what that said about me. How could I be nearly twenty-two years old, divorced, and had never once been on what I would consider a traditional date?
I browsed the menu while we talked. Nico asked what I was having and to my surprise, ordered for me when the waiter returned with water and a basket of sourdough bread. His in-command personality was still uncomfortable for me but I decided that change was good and it was best to go with the flow. I had no idea what it was like to go along for the ride rather than having to constantly be in charge and thinking of the next step. I wanted to find out. I sat back and relaxed.
The food arrived, we were lost in conversation, enjoying each other’s company and the wine was working its magic. I discovered that Nico had an off-beat and slightly dark sense of humor that I shared and fed off.
With dinner finished he invited me to swing by his place before I went home for the evening. “I have a couple of movies that I rented and thought that we could kick off our shoes and just relax for a few hours.” He said it innocently enough, so I took the chance and agreed to follow him to his apartment.
By the time I found a place to park, Nico had already parked and was rushing over to open my door. “I have to confess that my place looks like a typical bachelor pad, and is a bit of a disaster,” he warned with his head cocked to the side and a look of apprehension.
I was a bit of a neat freak but usually didn’t hold anyone else to my standards. With a handful of male cousins, I knew all too well how messy they could be, so I shrugged off his warning.
When I entered the small but stylish apartment, I did a quick scan of the room. The living area was cluttered with books and there was an entire corner of the room that looked as if a computer had exploded. Since he was a technology buff, I surmised that he was preparing to do some sort of computer-geeky thing with the pile of metal scraps, and decided to let him off the hook for that disaster.
There were a few unopened boxes in the dining area, and I remembered that he had mentioned during dinner that he had moved into his apartment only a few months ago. Standing smack in the middle of the dining room was an ironing board that I imagined he used every morning as he prepared for work.
Although there was quite a bit of clutter spread out, the place was generally clean, and as I stepped further inside, I saw that the kitchen was spotless. In my mind, regular ironing and an immaculate kitchen didn’t equal your everyday bachelor. He obviously cared about cleanliness and appearance.
I peeled off my coat and made myself at home on his printed futon while he put the movie on. We agreed on an older Tarantino film because it was one that I had never seen before.
NICO: She chose the darker Tarantino film over what I consider a ‘chick flick’, which surprised me.
Watching her watch the movie, was hilarious For more than a quarter of it she had her hands over her eyes with her fingers splayed apart so that she was still actually watching the more gruesome scenes. She kept biting her bottom lip and clutching her hands together, even during the quieter more intense shots.
I’ve seen the movie before, and though it’s one of my favorites I have to admit that watching it with her was immensely more enjoyable.
When the credits started rolling he laughed and said, “Do you watch all movies with your hands over your face?”
I laughed with him. “No, just Tarantino films. I don’t do well with gratuitous violence.”
“Well then why did you want to watch that one as opposed to the other? I gave you the option.”
“I love Tarentino though. He has the quirkiest characters and has the ability to make a scene intense with nearly no action.”
We bantered back and forth, arguing about movies.
Nico reached out and lightly brushed his finger up and down my cheek as I ranted about my inability to grasp the convoluted plot of the David Lynch film, Lost Highway. I stopped mid-sentence and looked into his face, suddenly forgetting what I had been talking about.
He circled his palm around the back of my neck and pulled me in. I went willingly, eager to see if the spark we had started in his truck, weeks before, was still there.
It was, and flared up instantly, as if it had been simmering there all along, just waiting for the next time we threw fuel on the fire.
Nico gently eased me back onto the futon, exploring my neck with his mouth.
I clutched his hair in my fists and urged him closer.
His tongue flicked at my collarbone and my body responded eagerly to his, but my mind was not ready to toss caution to the wind.
I gathered my wits and regained control of the situation, gently shoving back as I sat up and brushed my fingers through my hair. “We should stop before things get out of hand. I should probably be going,” I sputtered, nervous and flustered.
Nico leaned in, and kissing my neck again murmured, “What are talking about? Things aren’t getting out of hand. They are just as they should be.”
I nearly succumbed to his ploys, but was scared to take that step. He had no idea what he was getting himself into by getting involved with me. I figured I had better let him know. “Listen, I really enjoyed myself tonight, but I think that it’s only fair to tell you that I’m not looking to get involved right now. I’m pretty screwed up in the head and it wouldn’t be right to lead you on without you knowing that.” My heart was hammering in my chest, pulsating throughout my limbs and I tensed up, waiting to see if he would back off and give me the space I was requesting.
He pulled back while I sighed and regained my composure. After a few silent moments, he cut into my thoughts, “We don’t have to think about our level of involvement at this point, Roshell, but I’m not going to deny that I like you and want to get to know you more.” I appreciated his blatant honesty.
I shook my head and closed my eyes. “Trust me. You don’t want to get to know me. I have managed to screw up a lot of things in the short amount of time that I have been a quote, unquote, adult.” I put both hands up, hooking my fingers in the quote marks sign, “I am a walking catastrophe and advise you to keep your distance.”
“Well, we all have our own issues that we have to reconcile and try to work out. Why don’t we just agree to get to know each other a little more and leave it at that, with no expectations?” He didn’t let me answer though. He kept talking, “So why don’t you clue me in a little as to why you think that you’re ‘a walking catastrophe?” he mimicked my ear
lier comment, diffusing my attempt at melodramatics.
I debated it for a minute then decided that the best way to get him to turn in the other direction was to be brutally honest and lay it all out on the table for him. I knew that once he heard my story he would turn his back and never look back. So I spoke in a calm, disengaged voice, telling him of my childhood and how I developed a skewed perspective on men and how I never even knew my father. I spoke as if telling a tale rather than my personal experience.
Even though it was uncomfortable, I kept my voice monotone and told him about Erin. I didn’t go into detail, but the message was conveyed. I wanted to stop there but couldn’t. I had to tell my whole story. So I told him about my relationship with Gabriel and how I had continually pushed him away every time that he had dared to ask more from me. I admitted that rather than facing his expectations, I had chosen to move to another State, without even a backwards glance or the courtesy to tell him. I shamelessly described how I had wanted to ‘play house’ and married at age eighteen with a baby on the way, only to discover that I was more of his parent than his wife. I told him that I felt like a failure, but was so in love with my baby that I could never regret it.
I pushed on to describe the unique events that led to my reunion with Gabriel and how it had seemed that maybe we would finally pave a future together. How it still hurt to admit that I never once told Gabriel my true feelings and had continued to keep him at arms length, my stubborn ways and destructive fears forever determining my actions. Then I described how my world had been turned upside down with that one fateful phone call, and that I had tried to numb out the pain those first few months by drinking myself into oblivion and making choices that I would later regret.
I wrapped up my brash, self-effacing monologue with a simple statement. ”I’m just now coming out of the fog of those years. I can’t invite complications or deviations. I need to stay focused on raising my daughter.”
I felt spent, raw and exposed by the time I was done. I looked at him with a bland stare and waited for his response. His own expression had maintained neutral throughout my speech.
He met my gaze and his tone was just as neutral. “That’s a lot of baggage,” he said without inflection. “It’s gonna take a real man to face a history like yours.” Then he switched the subject on a dime, unaffected or un-amused by my story.
“So, do you want to go to the zoo this weekend?” he asked.
I blinked. “The zoo?” I repeated stupidly.
He stood up and turned off the television, breaking up the serious nature of our interaction. “Yeah, it’s supposed to warm up a bit and have some sun breaks this weekend. We could show Marissa the baby elephant that was born last fall.” He stood there, his stance wide, his thumbs hooked casually in his pockets.
To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Nico had not only swallowed my entire story gracefully and in one sitting, but he was asking me on another date and wanted to bring Marissa with us.
I was speechless. “Okay,” I managed. I stood up and scooped up my coat feeling completely off balance.
When I walked to the door, I felt confused, unsure of myself. Nico followed and helped me slip into my black pea coat. Then he grabbed both sides, up high near the collar and pulled me close, landing a quick closed- mouth kiss before bidding me goodnight and gently shoving me out the door.
I was dazed, still trying to gather my wits and regain my footing in the sudden change of dynamics. Before I could gain composure or basic thought comprehension, I was walking toward my car, my head in a fog with plans for a trip to the zoo with Marissa and the intriguing Nico.
What in the heck had just happened? I wondered.
NICO: It doesn’t take a genius to realize that opening up the way she did had cost her. I’m sure it was her way of testing me out, like a scare tactic or something.
Of course I’m a little leery about getting involved with someone who is clearly struggling with their past, but I can’t help but think that she will be worth it.
Chapter 28
The trip to the zoo was the perfect idea for our second date. The weather warmed up significantly by Saturday, and we were able to see most of the animals as they came out of their hiding spots to lounge in and soak up the rays of sun.
It was only March, so there was still a cool breeze that would roll along as a reminder that winter wasn’t quite through with you yet, but our hooded sweatshirts did the job of keeping us warm while we tromped around the grounds.
Marissa was delighted with every creature she came across, asking both Nico and me a barrage of questions for each exhibit, but the one that tickled her most was the Siamang Monkeys. One particularly adorable male monkey spotted Marissa, swung down from his tree perch, and ambled to the window where she had her little face pressed. The two of them sat quietly observing each other, nose to nose, with only the pane of glass between them.
We watched their silent interaction for ten minutes, bemused at how taken the two were with each other. Then a loud group of young children approached with their frustrated mother screaming after them. I took Marissa’s hand and coaxed her to the next exhibit.
By the time we were back in Nico’s pickup truck we were all exhausted, but it was a good exhaustion. It was the kind of tired you get from spending the day laughing and playing with people you care about; the kind of day that I needed.
Marissa, already slack faced with her head drooped to the side was fast asleep in her booster seat. I turned toward Nico as he skillfully negotiated the truck into the evening traffic. “Thank you Nico,” I said. “We needed that. We had a great day!”
Nico checked his side mirrors then his rearview mirror before catching a glance my way. “You’re welcome, and thank you girls, for going with me. I haven’t been to the zoo in years, it was fun.”
The following weekend, we went to the movies and took a walk down by Capital Lake afterward. The weekend after, Nico took Marissa and me for a drive up in the mountains where we found a nice clear-cut overlooking a deep ravine, and enjoyed a quaint picnic lunch.
I noticed that I was thinking of Nico during the day at work, every morning when I first awoke, and every evening as I drifted to sleep, and wondered if he was feeling the same about me.
A small part of me felt guilty about moving forward in life, no longer so despondent about my loss. I pondered and worried over whether my new feelings were an insult to Gabriel’s memory. Mostly, I was hopeful and grateful that I was feeling the wonderful emotions of love again.
One Friday evening after Graham picked up Marissa, I was blasting my Alanis Morrisette CD while applying the finishing touches to my makeup before going out with Nico.
Sharing the bathroom with Rosie as she also prepared for a night out, we were both vying for the mirror, like we had done so often over the years.
I started when I heard a knock at our front door, jabbing mascara in my eye and swore under my breath. He was early. With a snap of my powder compact, I ran my tongue across my front teeth and bid Rosie goodbye, promising to call if plans evolved and I decided to stay out for the night.
One of my workmates was throwing a party at her house, and had invited both Nico and me. Neither one of us had any inclination to stay for very long. We were eager for a night of privacy, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to make a small appearance early on.
Nico had made it clear that he wanted me to stay the night at his place, and though I was nervous I felt that we were both ready for that next step.
Though we arrived early, the party was in full swing. Nico and I parted ways, socializing in different circles, and I was truly enjoying how unencumbered I felt, no longer weighed down with angst. But as the evening progressed I grew anxious to leave, hoping that he and I would be able to carry on with our after-party plans. Drink in hand I walked around the rambler in search of his deep voice. I found him standing in front of the kitchen sink, alone. Just as I walked in, he tossed something into his mouth and, chased it with a
large glass of water. “Are you feeling okay? Is that Tylenol?” I enquired, but something in the back of my mind knew better.
I had caught him off guard and he spun around at the sound of my voice. “No… uh… yeah, it’s just something for my back,” he stammered. But I had never seen him falter before and instantly knew that he was being dishonest. I marched toward him and brashly reached into his pockets. “What was that stuff?” I demanded.
He made a half-hearted attempt to fend me off, but already looked resigned to the inevitable confrontation that was hunting him down. I reached into his front jeans pocket and fished out his money clip, a receipt, and a small bottle of pills.
Holding up the tiny bottle, my voice pitched an accusatory tone. “What the hell is this?” Then without waiting for an explanation I turned the bottle and examined its label.
Nico sighed, “They’re just mini tabs. They have pseudo-ephedrine in them. I take them to keep me going when I get too tired.” His expression was neutral, his tone weary.
I felt a flux of mixed emotions and wrestled with them simultaneously; a mix of surprise, confusion and then a slowly evolving irritation as I thought over our current scenario. “I know exactly what they are. They’re a mild version of speed.” My tone was defiant, challenging him to lie to me. Isn’t this what I had been waiting for- the other shoe to drop?
Nico brushed off my comment with a shrug. “Don’t be so dramatic, you can buy these things over the counter, at any mini-mart. It’s like taking a bunch of caffeine.” He went to move past me, but I grabbed him by the arm. I wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easy.
He looked down at my hand clutching his shirt, with a bemused expression. His attempt at dropping the subject had failed. “Look, Roshell, I don’t think that this is the time or place for you to cause a major scene with a bunch of melodramatic antics,” he quipped.
His dismissive, patronizing tone set me on edge. I swiftly dropped my hand from his arm, and drew in my posture. My chin jutted out defiantly and my next declaration was through clenched teeth. “Fine. Have it your way.” I stomped past him and into the living room, packed with guests.