Gary glanced up toward the sky as he began bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Just making conversation,” he said. “I always ask people I meet for the first time that question.”
“You ask them if they’re dating anyone?”
“Yep. All the time.”
She turned her back to him.
“I don’t believe you. You have some nerve asking me that under the circumstance.”
Gary felt his neck tingle. He didn’t know much about how to salvage a troubled situation, but he was certainly going to try. So, he walked past her, approached the older gentleman standing a few feet away. He angled himself so that he was certain she’d see him. Then he tapped the man on his shoulder, outstretched his hand for a shake, and asked the man the exact same question.
“I am,” the man said. “But even if I weren’t, you’re not really my type. Sorry.”
The man went back to reading his cellphone screen.
Gary noticed the girl smirking at him, so he took that as an invitation to return to her side.
“See?” he said. “It’s nothing personal.”
She nodded and gave him something like a smile, though it was clearly controlled, not too friendly, but not icy, either.
“You’re clearly insane,” she said. “But I haven’t laughed so hard in a while, so I’m game. To answer your question, yes, I am.”
Gary felt his chest sinking again. But he fought hard not to show it. He smiled at her, like this was good news. He even nodded to emphasize his false sincerity.
“That’s awesome,” he said through his teeth. “It serious?”
“Like a stubbed toe.”
Gary shook his head and frowned.
“Is that a…yes? I think the expression is ‘serious like a heart attack.’”
“I know what I said, and I stand by it.” She put her hands on her hips. “Are you questioning my metaphor?”
“No, no, of course not. I just—”
“Because if you were, I’d be very upset.”
“No, I’m not questioning—”
“Because I know what I mean, and I mean what I say.”
“Yeah, of course. I just—”
The girl faced away from him again.
“Honestly, I don’t want to talk right now. Just go back to massaging the pain out of my neck please.”
Gary did as he was told. And he stayed there for the next ten minutes while the scene changed from a gaggle of meandering accident victims to a cluster of interviewees for the police inquiries. When the police came to interview him, he didn’t have much to say. But when they interviewed the girl, Gary learned the most important part about her.
“Name?” the police officer asked.
“Nikki Rose,” said the girl.
And that was how Gary met the next love of his life, Nikki Rose.
Chapter 3
“Conversational Therapy”
Gary and Nikki didn’t talk much after the questioned metaphor or the police statement, but he did want the opportunity to get to know her under less pressured terms, so he asked her to have dinner with him that following Friday. He made it clear that he had understood her answer about the stubbed toe. She was already with somebody. Asking her out was certainly inappropriate. But then he had an epiphany: As he rolled his fingers along her shoulders, he wondered, what right did some other guy have stealing his future wife away from him? So, he worried less about the inappropriateness of him asking out another guy’s girlfriend and more about the inappropriateness of another guy dating the woman he was going to spend his life with. As far as he was concerned, it was his duty to win her back, for the first time.
“I want to have dinner with you,” he said, in the silence between her low-volume sighs.
“I have a boyfriend,” she said. “Thought I’d already made that clear.”
“Is he here right now?”
“No, he’s running his business right now.”
“Is his business more important than you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why isn’t he here right now?”
She stopped rolling her head around on her neck so that she could turn to roll her eyes at him.
“Because he’s working. That’s what people do when they have a job.”
Gary shrugged, gave her a sheepish grin.
“Okay. Just thought anyone really meant to be with you would come to your side within a few minutes of your getting into a serious accident, is all.”
“It’s not serious.”
“It’s not? Then why are you worried what he thinks if you have dinner with someone else for one night?”
“I meant the crash isn’t serious. My relationship with my man is serious.”
“Yeah? What’s his name?”
She resisted her laughter.
“I’m not telling you his name.”
Gary shrugged again. His hands were still on her shoulders, even though she was now turned to face him.
“Okay. If you don’t know it, that’s cool.”
“Omigod, I know my boyfriend’s name. I just don’t want to tell you.”
“Why? Does he not exist?”
Her eyes fluttered upward and her mouth sucked in the cold, dry air. She was clearly flustered now.
“Of course, just, omigod.”
Her hands floated up to her chest, and she turned her back to him as she tried to process whether she could believe what she was hearing.
“You know what?” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Just shut up and massage me.”
Gary dug his fingers into her shoulders for the next minute without a word. Then he dared to speak again.
“You like shrimp parmesan?” he asked.
“Love it. Why—oh, no, I see what you’re doing. We’re not having this conversation.”
Gary smiled. He was channeling Shawn somehow, and he was not about to waste it.
“How about white wine?”
“I’m only twenty. But, yeah, I love that, too.”
“White grape juice?”
“I’m not having dinner with you. End of topic.”
Gary spent another minute in silence. He didn’t know how much longer she’d let him stay with her. But he was running out of ideas. Smooth-talking was not his foray, and the last few minutes of conversation was just a faint echo of what he’d once seen Shawn do to get a date. Shawn’s example was rubbing thin now, and when Gary glanced back to see if he could offer him additional last-minute pointers, he saw that he’d already left.
Whatever he would say to her from now on was up to his own volition.
“How about puppies?” he asked. “How do you feel about puppies?”
Nikki growled at the bus sitting dead before her. Gary could feel her shoulders tensing between his fingers.
“Okay, fine,” she said. “I’ll go out with you. Stop asking.”
She’d almost refused entirely; he could see it in her eyes. She didn’t know him, didn’t know if she wanted to know him, but she would later confess that his massage therapy skill was ultimately what tipped her thoughts in favor of him. She was not at all poetic about it, however. She had the grace of an elephant.
“You’re not attractive,” she said to him, “not to me anyway—I suppose you could be attractive to somebody—even monkeys have other monkeys they’re attracted to, I guess. But those hands of yours and the things they can do. So adequate.”
Gary was no idiot. He knew that, so far, beauty was the only thing she had going for her. She was unpleasant from the start, critical, and clearly had no interest in him. But then, that was part of the attraction. His whole life, people had been telling him of the things he couldn’t do: “You can’t become president unless you graduate from an Ivy League college; you can’t keep yourself healthy if you keep eating potato chips; you can’t date the girl of your dreams because she’ll want to date someone better than you.” He had to prove to himself, and to everyone else, that he co
uld become president no matter where he graduated from, that he could stay healthy no matter how many bags of potato chips he might’ve devoured in a day, and that he could certainly win the heart of the girl of his dreams, that all of the can’t-dos of his life were can-dos. And, even as he asked Nikki out to dinner there next to that broken down bus amid the police officers soliciting for information about the cause of the crash, he knew that those first two can-dos were ridiculous—of course he would never become president on his education or stay healthy on a diet of fried potatoes—but he believed that the third can’t-do was every bit the can-do he knew it could be, so he accepted no fear and went in for the big ask, knowing that beauty was literally the only positive thing she could offer him at the moment. At this point, he didn’t care. At this point, he had to show his resolve. She could’ve said anything, but he would’ve said anything back, so at the end of the day, she had no choice but to accept his invitation, even if she technically had all the choice in the world.
My hands are more than adequate, he thought. My hands can change your life, if you let me work my magic. Of course, his external machismo was nowhere near as strong as his internal confidence. Externally, he was still a little underdeveloped. His elegance was also like that of an elephant’s.
“I have hands,” he said. “Nice hands. Good hands.”
Nikki waited for him to clarify, but he didn’t. He just stood there smiling at her, like he had given her the best news of her life. She simply curled her lip and nodded.
“Okay, well—”
Gary grabbed her right biceps and held his hand there.
“I’m never going to date anyone as beautiful as you, so please have mercy on me. One dinner, and then make your decision.”
She started forward then stopped. A look of confusion crossed her face.
“Well, if I go out with you, then I’ve already made my decision, right?”
“Well, I mean—”
Before he could finish his thought, she smiled at him.
“You really think I’m that pretty?” she asked.
He didn’t know how to answer her properly, so he simply grinned and nodded. He could feel his cheeks flushing and the sweat beginning to well around his neck. At this point, his Shawn-talk was diminished and now he was beginning to regress back into Gary-talk. Better to keep silent.
She gave him a shy smile.
“Okay, that’s flattering. Maybe I can have one dinner with you, just to see if you mean what you say.”
He wasn’t sure what part of what he’d said needed proof, or how he would even prove it, but at least she was willing to offer him the opportunity to prove it anyway, somehow. He supposed the big challenge was in figuring out how to prove to a woman that she’s beautiful when beauty was predominantly subjective.
“Can I just say what I mean and move on to getting to know you better?”
Her shy smile flattened out. She was back to serious mode.
“Er, no. You say I’m beautiful. As flattering as I think that is, I don’t know you enough to trust you or the words you say. So, you need to prove it.”
He folded his arms over his chest and nodded.
“Okay, I’ll prove it. No problem.” It was definitely a problem.
“Good, so we’ll meet at Yoyo Crunch Bistro five o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Obviously I don’t have a car, so you’ll have to drive.”
He was taken aback by the time.
“Why so early?” he asked.
“Because I have a hot date at seven. Don’t want to be late. I think my boyfriend is going to propose.” Her face stiffened. “But that’s none of your business, is it?”
Chapter 4
“Hot Girl, Cold Date”
If not for his deep attraction to her, Gary would’ve canceled his dinner with Nikki. He didn’t care that she was unfriendly toward him, and he didn’t care that she’d essentially called him ugly. But he did care that she had another date after him, and he didn’t think that was fair. He knew she would be spending their entire dinner thinking about the other guy. He wanted her to respect him, to actually want to go out with him for a second time, so he had to come up with a plan to get her mind in the right place, on him.
He figured flowers weren’t going to be enough. Flowers were generic, the kind of thing a man gifts a woman he already knows and has nothing left to prove to, and that didn’t come close to describing his relationship with Nikki. No, he had to go bigger. But relationships, and the art of building relationships, wasn’t exactly his thing. When he was dating Victoria, he had gone all in, but that amounted to nothing much in the end. He knew that whatever he did for her probably wouldn’t work for Nikki, either.
Against his better judgment, he asked Shawn for advice. Shawn, never short on ideas, decided that he’d tag along on the date, just to feed him lines as needed.
“I don’t think that would work,” Gary said. “You’d distract her, and probably turn me into my own third wheel.”
“Dude, I’m okay with that,” Shawn said. “You should be, too.”
“I’m not.”
“You sure? Nikki’s hot.”
“I’m sure. Thanks.”
At five o’clock, Gary entered the Yoyo Crunch Bistro, a seafood restaurant with a kid’s cereal theme, and took his seat. Nikki had expected him to pick her up for the dinner, but changed her mind at the last minute. She said she had to get over her fears of taking the bus again, so she’d meet him there. So, he sat in the waiting room for thirty minutes waiting for the table and another ten waiting for Nikki. Shawn, who had tagged along against Gary’s wishes, took the seat next to him and stared through the pane window before him.
“I don’t think she’s coming, man,” he said.
“She’s coming.”
Shawn looked at the screen on his phone.
“It’s 5:40. She said she’d be here at five. Maybe you should call it what it is.”
“It isn’t that.”
“I appreciate your sense of denial, but I don’t think it’s powerful enough to get her walking through that door.”
“She’ll be here.”
The server approached the table. She was a demure girl with high eyebrows and lots of patience displayed on her face. Her smile was friendly and her uniform was splotched with primary colors.
“You guys ready to order?” she asked.
“Not yet,” said Gary.
“I’ll have the crab soufflé,” said Shawn. “Coat it with a dash of sesame sauce. I’ll take the pumpkin crackers on the side.”
The server scribbled everything on her notepad. Then she tapped the ink tip against the last word she wrote, looked up, and smiled.
“And for you, sir?” she asked Gary.
Gary shook his head.
“I’m not—”
Shawn smacked him in the biceps.
“It’s 5:43. She’s not coming.”
Gary leaned in on his elbows and sighed. As much as he feared to admit it, he knew Shawn was right.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll have a shrimp parmesan.”
Ten minutes later, the dishes arrived. Five minutes after that, or about halfway through finishing his meal, Nikki came walking in.
Gary’s mouth hung open as she approached the table. The pasta dripping off his fork fell off completely. She strolled to the empty chair and sat down. Then she ripped off her purple sunglasses like a television cop and stared at the plate under Gary’s hand.
“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” she said. “Nice first impression, pal.”
Gary dropped the fork to his plate.
“I thought you weren’t—”
She ignored him. Put her focus on Shawn instead.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked.
“Wingman,” Shawn said. “Here to make sure you don’t break my friend’s heart.”
“How can I break his heart if we’re not dating?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure that out.”
Nikki brushed h
er hand through the air, signaling to Shawn that it was time to get lost.
“I’m not a fly,” he said.
“Nevertheless, I’d like you to buzz off.”
Shawn glanced at Gary. Gary nodded that it was okay, that he could handle himself.
“Okay, fine. I’ll take my crab soufflé elsewhere.” He pointed his fork at Nikki’s face. “You better not send him home crying.” Then he showed her the screen on his phone. “5:53! Be on time next time. Horrible first impression, woman.”
Shawn left. Gary looked down at his plate and shook his head. His first dinner date with Nikki was off to a terrible start. He should’ve guessed it would go this way. It was very similar to how his relationship with Victoria had begun. He didn’t know why he expected different.
***
The date itself was no better. Gary had spent the entire night before thinking about the perfect way to win her over, but he couldn’t get past bringing her flowers. Chocolates were an option, but he didn’t know her stance on chocolate and didn’t know if she’d love it or hate it, so he left it out of the equation. He also thought bringing her a pony was too over the top and expensive, even if it made a grander gesture, and one she might even remember someday; he didn’t know where in this town he’d find a pony anyway. In the end, he had settled on bringing her a plastic bracelet, cheap yet symbolic of the diamond tennis bracelet he hoped he could buy for her someday years down the road when he was rich and she was married to him. But then he forgot to bring it with him, so he didn’t have anything to offer her.
She didn’t notice his snafu, and he didn’t bring it up. He just kept her attention on the conversation instead, hoping it would be enough to keep her interested. Then he started talking about his dinner, which was almost gone. She got bored immediately. When her dinner, a broccoli platter, had finally arrived at 6:38, Gary was in the middle of telling her about the history of the Roman Empire. She immediately put her hand in a halting position as soon as the plate hit the table.
“Okay, I’m going to eat now. We can talk after I finish.”
Gary watched her take each piece of broccoli between her thumb and forefinger, and gingerly stuff it in her mouth. She chewed each piece about forty times before swallowing. Bigger pieces took her as many as fifty chews. When she was just a quarter of the way through her plate, she burped. Didn’t bother excusing herself. Gary pushed his own plate aside, now that it was empty. He leaned into his elbows and stared at her while she chewed. The silence was killing him.