Fat Chance (15 page)

Looking into his eyes again, I can't stop thinking how easy it would be, just to get lost in his eyes, in his lazy grin, his easy sense of humor. I can't stop thinking how nice it would be to sink into the way he looks out for me already, and to fall into the easy habit of looking out for him, too.

I think of Renee again, and now, what she wanted doesn't sound so bad, after all.

"Is as soon as possible soon enough?" I laugh, as the elevator opens.

"It's perfect for me," he says, and he keeps my hand in his while we walk together down the hall. At my door, he takes my other hand again, and suddenly we're facing each other.

"It's a 'date thing' again, isn't it?" I ask, watching a flurry of emotions mix in his face.

"Yeah," he answers quietly. "But not a 'first date thing.'" We smile; he steps forward, and he slides one hand up my arm, slipping his fingers easily around my neck, gently into my hair. He guides my face to his, and as my hand slides up his arm to rest on his shoulder, he presses his warm and tender lips to mine.

It's been a week since my date with Drew, and even though we haven't found the time to go out again yet, we have talked every day on the phone. I love talking to him, and I really look forward to our calls. Especially tonight's call, because today is going to suck.

Today is Janet's birthday, and she said that what she wanted most for her birthday was to have her children together in the same place for dinner again. So I'm in the car, driving back home for Janet's birthday dinner.

My power playlist is blaring, and I'm screaming the lyrics of Katy Perry's "Part of Me," at the top of my lungs, dancing around like a fool in my car. I know my confidence has made progress, because when I catch someone looking at me at a red light, I scoop a hairbrush out of the passenger seat and hold it up like a microphone. The guy in the car laughs, and then the light turns and he pulls away. I drive on, still singing.

The strong mood lasts until I pull up to the restaurant where we've all arranged to meet for dinner, only to realize that the place is packed. Cruising the parking lot, I see Renee's car next to Janet's little van, so I know all the girls are here already. Parking in the last available space at the back of the lot, I climb out of my car and realize that the truck in front of my car is Rick's.

"Damn," I mutter to myself. The last thing I want is to finish dinner and have him stuck to my hip all the way to the car, digging at me. "Well, there's no putting it off forever. Just get it over with."

I take my purse and lock my car, tucking the little bag under my arm so I can smooth the emerald green wrap tunic I've worn over fitted chocolate slacks. Then I take a deep breath, and head for the restaurant.

Approaching the door, I can't help but roll my eyes. Rick is sitting there on a bench by the door, wearing his typical smirk.

"They sent me out to watch for you, since we're such great pals," he says.

"Aww, that's sweet. Especially after you cleaned the whole kitchen for me at the reunion. I did get home safely that night, thanks to your generous offer to help."

"Oh please, you got home early because your piggy feet were tired of the ugly boots you stuffed them in, so you trapped me in the kitchen and ran squealing home."

I click my tongue and shake my head, twitching my finger at him. "You know, actually, I didn't squeal once. I did sing though. Loud. All the way home. It was a lot of fun. Much better than dishpan hands." I hold my hands out, waggling my freshly manicured fingertips at him.

"Well, as always, it's been a pleasure," I say, breezing beside him to open the door of the restaurant. "But I'm going inside. Gosh, I hope this place has a buffet. I'm so hungry I could eat the wait staff tonight."

I'm laughing as I walk through the door and announce myself to the restaurant host. I just can't forget the look of shock on Rick's face. I'm wildly proud of myself for throwing him off again. He walks in the door, fuming, just as a hostess comes up to walk us to our table.

"You disgust me," he mutters as we follow the hostess.

"You're pretty disgusting yourself. I guess we're quite a pair."

He growls quietly to himself, missing the chance to say anything back as we've approached the table. Janet launches herself into my arms, and I can't hold back the laughter, catching her into a hug.

"The girls are telling me about your boyfriend!" she exclaims.

I shoot Renee and Chelsea a glare over Janet's shoulders, which they pretend not see; when Janet moves to sit back down, I catch Rick quickly erasing the shock from his face, and trying to look normal. I know he's dying to say something, but I also know that I don't want to hear it, so I drop into the booth beside him and address Janet before Rick can say anything.

"It's really nothing," I say. "We've only been on one date so far, but we're working on planning another, and I like him. He's really nice, and that's all there is to tell really."

Our waiter comes along then, and we all take turns ordering dinner. I'm ashamed of myself for provoking Rick purposely, but I order fried catfish, french fries, and a side of broccoli casserole with rice. He pretends to choke on his drink so that he can cover his mouth and laugh behind his napkin, and I pretend to drop my fork in my lap so that I can covertly stick him with it under the table.

"That is not all there is to tell," Janet presses. Come on, when my littlest little one --"

At this, Rick burst outright into laughter, which draws all attention at the table to him, and I hide a smile behind my tea as he scrambles to cover for him slip.

"I, ah, saw a kid doing something funny, over there," he says.

"Aww, too bad we all couldn't have seen it," I sneer. Turning back to Janet, I say, "Anyway, when your littlest little one, what?" In the periphery of my vision, Rick is shoveling salad into his mouth in a desperate effort to be quiet.

'When my littlest little one is dating," she continues, "I need to know everything. So we'll start with his name. And what he does for a living. And then you can tell me if he's a hottie."

"I have to pee, let me up," Rick says, and I stand to let him out of the booth. The little girl inside me is hysterically laughing, as Rick is now so uncomfortable that he is the one running away. The change in power makes me giddy.

"His name is Drew," I tell Janet, as our waiter brings dinner and sets everything out. "He's tall, and he's well-built with green eyes and dark brown hair. He's a cop --"

At this, Chelsea interrupts, pretending to swoon and fall on Renee, who drops a bite of shrimp into her lap. Janet looks a warning at them, and they sit up straight in the booth, eating and pretending to be completely innocent.

"He's a cop," I say again, glaring at the twins for forcing me to have this conversation in the first place. "And he's from a large family, and that's pretty much all I can tell you so far." I'm not telling the whole truth, but I've told all that I'm willing to share at this point, especially since Rick is approaching the table.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly because the conversation shifts from me to the other members of the family. Chelsea updates us on her life, Renee talks about her job, and Rick goes on about a neighbor woman who keeps letting her dog pee in his yard.

I get another quick dig at Rick when time for dessert rolls around, and our waiter brings out a birthday cake for Janet. The entire wait staff is with him, and as they serenade a completely embarrassed Janet, I lean toward Rick to whisper in his ear.

"Finally. I ate that catfish, but it just wasn't cutting it. I'm going for the staff next; should I start with that hot buff guy over there, or the little short chick? I bet she can't fight hard."

He rolls his eyes and ignores me, and I laugh quietly to myself; this enrages him and he stiffens beside me. Had we been younger, he'd have shoved me out of the booth; he's done it before. But alas, we are among the adult class, and Janet would probably kill him for pulling something like that here. He's biding his time; the walk to the car is going to really, really suck.

Thankfully, I have a phone call to look forward to.

We all share Janet's birthday cake, we chip in to cover the bill, and then our group breaks for the door. Janet hugs me before she leaves, and whispers in my ear.

"See? He's grown up so much," she says, quietly.

Whispering some token agreement, I hug her tightly and send her off with her daughters, and then I square my shoulders and head toward my car. Rick falls into step beside me, which makes my skin crawl. Heaven forbid that anyone should see me with this cretin.

"So, a boyfriend, huh?"

"Maybe, maybe not. We've just been dating, but he's nice. You could learn a thing or two from him."

"And he likes you?"

"He certainly seems to when he kisses me goodnight." I grip my little purse a little tighter, wishing I could think of a good excuse to pull out the little bottle of pepper spray tucked inside.

"Well, I think that's great, that you've found someone," he says, and I come to a halt in the middle of the parking lot.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I'm thrilled." We've come to his truck now, and he stops to unlock the door before he turns. Placing his hands lightly on my shoulders, he leans close and whispers, "Just be careful he never sees any of those giant tent panties. And always keep your girdle on."

Enraged, I slip my purse to one hand, take a step back, and stand to my full height. I'm itching to slap him silly, or outright punch him, but instead I take my vengeance in a much easier direction.

"At least I'm dating someone. Good luck finding someone who can stand your sorry waste of space." Turning, I hold my head high, though my eyes are watering. By the time I dig the keys from my purse, Rick has slammed into his truck and roared out of the parking lot, which is good because I need him to not see me break down.

"You won, just relax, you won. A bully gives up when he can't find a weak target. Just stick it out," I tell myself. Climbing into the car, I get myself together and practice the deep breathing I've learned in Renee's yoga class. Once I'm fine again, I text Drew and tell him I'm ready to talk, and the ride home is spent chattering to him about everything except Rick.

We've finally managed to set another date, and this time, Drew is determined to surprise me. I have no idea where we're going, but I've been instructed to dress for rugged terrain. So I'm sitting here in my living room, wearing fitted jeans with flared legs that move when I do, jeans that Chelsea swore looked great on me, even though I'm concerned with how they hug my ample hips. I've got on my usual top style, a wrap tunic in a red plaid pattern. Simple running shoes --
ha ha, me, in
running
shoes
-- complete the outfit, and I'm ready to go.

I manage not to notice when he pulls up, and so he's forced to come up and knock, which makes me poke myself in the eye with the mascara wand I've been using.

"Hold on," I shout, but he must have thought I said "come on," because the door opens and I hear him walking in.

"Cass?" he shouts, while I blink frantically and wipe at my eye with a makeup cloth. I'm hoping desperately that my apartment is suitably picked up, that I have no stray panties lying around to scare him off. I may be able to wear a tough face in front of Rick, but I'm only human, and the things people say to me do have an effect.

"Are you ok?" And suddenly, he's there, in the mirror.
Crap.

"Yep, just a makeup mishap," I chirp. "You can have a seat if you want, and I'll be finished up in a jiff."

"Okay, cool," he says, slipping into the bathroom behind me. I don't get time to wonder what he's doing before the small size of the room causes his hips to brush my rear, and I freeze, praying not to poke myself in the eye again.