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“Thank you.”
The hostess walked away. Taylor took a sip of his wine.
“Would you like a glass?” He motioned to his drink.
“No, thank you. I don’t drink.” Great, starting off the evening with thatbombshell revelation.It was so uncommon for people not to drink by choice thateven when I heard it, I assumed they were in recovery or in one of those long-haired freaky people cults.
Thankfully, he didn’t ask, but me being me, I felt I needed to elaborate. “I just never really have.”
He smiled. “You are every parent's dream come true.”
A singer came out on stage, and I was instantly distracted. It was a young man who had shaggy black hair that reminded me of my post-high school romantic interest in a musician. My friend introduced us, and he was very charming in an old-fashioned way—opened doors, walked on the outside of the sidewalk. Things teenagers don’t seem to do anymore. It wasn’t until I saw him in concert a week later that I realized he was a cross-dresser. He told me he only wore women’s clothing on stage, to which I wanted to believe him. Just a few days later, my mother and I invited him over for dinner. After he left, we noticed a red blouse she had hanging on the clothesline was missing.
Someone started playing the saxophone. “Do you like jazz?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never really heard it.”
“This is a great place to get exposed to it. Very classy acts.” Taylor was pleased with the tunes. “So, Katie. Tell me about yourself.” He took another sip of his wine, emptying the glass. He reached for the bottle to refill it.
“Well, I’m a paralegal. I moved here a few years ago and I like it. The rain gets a little old, but—” The waitress came over and Taylor, who had appeared to be listening to me, stood.
“There she is!” He reached out to hug her, which lasted an uncomfortably long time. “How are you, Clarissa?” He was still touching her shoulders as they were at arm's length, utterly oblivious to my presence.
“Doing better now that you're here!”Gag me.Did Taylor invite me on a date, or am I just a third wheel on theirs?
Clarissa gave him a long-winded story about her recentadventurein the Caribbean, giving extra details about what she and her supermodel friendsworewhile on modeling contracts. I glanced back over at her, as I had been staring ahead at the singer who reminded me oh so much of my teenage dream. Yeah, she’s a model, alright, but most importantly, Dr. Handsy is still touching her arms.
“You know that tattoo I have on my lower back?” Clarissa motioned to her backside, turning slightly to jog his memory.
He closed his eyes and smiled. “Of course, the tiger. How could I forget? I recall picking it out for you!”
That was it, I’d had enough of this. I excused myself for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” I shouted into the abyss as certainly they couldn’t hear me, but the singer nodded back to me. Since we were the only ones sitting in the lounge, and with Taylor and Clarissa embracing, I was his only audience.
I made it into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. “What are you going to do?” I asked myself. I was all dressed up—would it be disappointing to leave? Yes. But if I stayed, would I feel even more so? Another yes. Sigh.
Walking back out to the hostess podium, she looked confused. “Can I help you, Katie?” But all it took was once glance over her shoulder to the lounge and we both saw them together, still.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.” I couldn’t believe it, but I felt a tadslightedemotionally. Tears welled in my eyes, but I was already feeling a little fragile lately.
“Here, let me help you with your coat.” She held it out for me sweetly, pulling it on and then came around me and zipped me up. She was old enough to be my mother, and she took on that role, just when I needed it most.
She leaned in, whispering. “He’s here with a new woman every week, but never twice. Clarissa… Well, she’s married.”
I nodded. It was clear I’d dodged a bullet.
Yuck. I couldn’t believe I went out with this guy. And worse, Eli thought this was the type of guy I liked!
I exited the restaurant and got to my car, expecting him to run out any second to apologize, but he didn’t. I put the key in the ignition—checking—he’sstill not running outside. I pulled out of the parking lot, looking back in my rearview mirror. What a dud. Time to find a new veterinarian.
Dolly seemed surprised to see me, as her tail wagged wildly under the blanket.
“Hi Dolly, I’m home! That was a terrible date. I wouldn’t even call it a date.” I picked her up and felt her warm kisses on my face. I kicked off my shoes and kissed her cheek.
“I should’ve just stayed home with you to begin with.”
I carried her around while I rummaged through my dresser, picking out the perfect pair of pajamas. They were soft purple flannel pants set with a purple cotton shirt. I then had to put on my purple socks because it’s important to always be put together. You never know when there will be an emergency outside and you’ll be seen on the ten o’clock news.
