It's Got A Ring To It (8 page)

“
Laila
, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.
You did nothing wrong. He was the unfaithful one. To me, that just means that
he
wasn’t the man for
you
.”

“That may be so, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. I’m still the
one who is scarred and damaged. I’m the one having trouble dating.”

“What do you mean? You’re out here, looking gorgeous. We’re about to
have dinner at one of the best restaurants in the world. You’re dating
now
. Forget everything in the past
and live in the now.”

“Oh my gosh, Larry. That sounds so great. Really, it does. I want to,
but you just don’t understand…” Before I could say anything more, he swiped
another tear from my face, caressed my cheek and did what felt natural to him.
H
e leaned in and kissed me
deeply. I surprised myself when I returned the gesture. Suddenly, it felt like
the kiss from the dream.
I
reached for his face and allowed my fingers to venture through his thick
mane—letting him temporarily bandage the gaping hole in my heart. I
couldn’t open my eyes.
It
wasn’t the dream kiss. We were still in a restaurant surrounded by people
probably gleaming with disdain at our taste of affection.

Cautiously, my eyes opened only to be confronted by the whole truth
that I’d failed to share with Larry. The face attached to mine bore an uncanny
resemblance. Instances from my past replayed in my mind. Snapshots of our life
together flashed like a slideshow.
Us, at the chamber
meeting, desperately and unsuccessfully trying to stifle our inappropriate
laughter.
Kissing in the middle of Times Square. The tingles on my skin
as he whispered that he loved me and would one day make me his wife as we
looked on at our friends making the same vows before God and their loved ones.
I knew Larry reminded me of him. No wonder I didn’t know whether his familiar
voice made me feel uneasy or comforted. It was the same voice that relayed the
worst news of my life.
Those chestnut eyes.
That deep chin.
The thick curly hair.
Larry could have been a clone of the man who had been the bane of my existence
for the past two years
—
no
ten years. If it weren’t for the truth in his eyes, I would’ve sworn that he
was Ethan.

NINE

In the
middle of the grocery store, the
“
Bad
Mamma
Jamma
”
ringtone sounded off loudly. I
figured, either Mom had heard about my date or she wanted to discuss wedding
plans. Neither of which I care
d
to talk about among the produce pickers sifting through bruised apples, but it
was either that or have them glare at me for not answering to stop the
ringtone.

“
Hi
,
Mom
!”

“
Laila
,
honey, what are your plans today?”

“I’m picking up a few things at the grocery store now, but then I
have to head into the office for a couple of hours. Why? What’s up?”

“Do you think you can stop by after? There’s someone I want to you to
meet.”

Every time she says, “there’s someone I want you to meet,” I cringe.
I knew those words were code for, “Someone’s ugly son or grandson has agreed to
meet you and hopefully I’ll get to marry you off.” She’d laid off of me for a
while, but the day Lena announced her engagement, the hunt for a mate for me
was back in full force. Still, it really sucked to hear disappointment in her
voice.

“Who is it this time, Mom?”

“
Laila
, I met this nice young man at the
post office, who’s a photographer. He lives real close by.
A
few blocks over.
I thought you might want to meet him and see if he
could do Lena’s wedding photos.”

The tension released from my shoulders. Weddings, I could do.
Men, not so much.
“Oh. Al
l
right. I’ll come right after I leave the
office. Is everything else ok
ay
?”
Fully aware of my mother’s reigning title as
motormouth
gossipmonger, I knew I was opening a can of worms. By far,
she was
the most long-winded person I kn
e
w. Every conversation start
ed
off with a worrisome
interrogation of where I’ve been, what I’ve been up to, and
who
I’ve been with. Once she’s determined I
was okay
, it’s on to the latest report of
some horrific ordeal she’s seen on the news or worse, Nancy Grace.

Although, nothing could trump the topic of Lena’s wedding. She’d gone
haywire since Lena took the cap off of the guest list. Mom began inviting
everyone the family knew since birth.

“Everything is business as usual with me, but how are things going
with you? Lena told me you’ve been getting out again and I think it’s great.”

“Oh, she did? What did she say?”

“She said you went out to the club with her
and
you had a date last night.” Three. Two. One. “I was worried
all night about you making it home safely, but I swore to Lena I wouldn’t call
and ruin your date. So how did it go? Promising, I hope.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t have the police on standby,” I joked knowing
how much she worries. It must’ve taken all her restraint and something just
short of a natural disaster for her not to call to make sure I made it home.
“I’m so proud of you.”

“
I w
as
tempted,” she tried to laugh off the half-truth.

Knowing she would get the story out of me one way or another, I bit
the bait. “Lena probably already told you it was with this guy I met online.
But before you freak out, we decided to go to Della
Vite
,
a nice public restaurant.” Through the receiver, I heard her exhale a relieved
sigh.

“So, I wore that cute little black wrap
-
dress. You know the one that I got from
Nordstrom that time. Not too revealing. A hint of cleavage, but a nice
silhouette in case there was any potential. I was feeling and looking good.
When I got there, it started off ok
ay
with light conversation and good food.
There was something there, but at the time
,
I just couldn’t put my finger on it. We
were hitting it off
.
” I
embellished for her sake. I couldn’t possibly tell her about my whole
blubbering episode. “We even kissed
.
”
A
nd as quickly as her hopes rose, I shattered
them
.
“
B
ut it all went downhill
from there.”

“The kiss was no good? I hope you’re not being your old picky self
again,
Laila
. Otherwise
,
no guy is going to live up to your
outrageous, unattainable standards. You know, the chemistry in a kiss is more
telling than with sex.”

“
Mom!
TMI, really.
I prefer not to think of you in that way.”

“What way?
Of course I have sex
,
I had you, silly
. I’m human. There’s nothing wrong with
sex.”

“It wasn’t the kiss at all. Actually, that was the highlight of the
evening. Would you believe that he looked just
like…
Ethan?”

She didn’t answer, but I knew her answer. I love my mother for what
she doesn’t say, almost as much for just being herself. Her worrying is rooted
in love and her silence lies in the adage by which she lives,
If
you don’t have anything nice to say, then
don’t say anything at all
. For his cowardice, she despise
d
him as much as I d
id
. Though, she never cared
for him, but settled on respecting my choice.

An echoing beep sounded in my ear. “Hold on Mom.” Call waiting.

“This is
Laila
.”

“Hello. Myles Donovan, please,” a woman breathed through the phone.
The words were simple enough, but sounded a little too sultry to be calling
from a bill collector. I’d only seen him the once, but it pissed me off
nonetheless. I didn’t care how hot he was, he’d really taken it to a new level
of rudeness. Now he was giving my number our to women, too?

Any manners I had went right out the window with Myles’ audacity. I
didn’t even have the decency to tell her she had the wrong number. Under the
boiling of my heated blood, I just hung up and tried without success to regain
my composure.

“Mom, I’m back,” I huffed through the phone and continued filling her
in on the date. “Anyway, he was a real nice guy, but I couldn’t get over him
looking like Ethan. It was so embarrassing. In the middle of the kiss, I
realized he could’ve been his twin. The thought of recycling the last ten
years,
literally repulsed me and my gag reflex kicked in. I
nearly hurled on him. All I could do was thank him for the date, apologize, and
run out. I felt so bad. The poor man was perfectly nice, but he got punished
for being a body double. This morning, I left him a message online and
explained why I left, apologized for the millionth time and shamefully
discontinued my online membership.”

“Didn’t you know what he looked like beforehand? Why’d you agree to
go on the date in the first place?”

“That’s the thing. He didn’t have a picture posted, but the website
said we were compatible.
At like
ninety-nine percent
, too.
I’m so
bummed. I’m thinking
,
this is a sign that I need to
just be patient and wait for it to happen the old-fashioned way.”

“I’ve been telling you that all along,
Laila
.
That’s the way we did it. In my day, they didn’t have these computerized meet
markets and such. Men courted women. I refuse to believe that chivalry is dead.
It’ll happen when you stop thinking about it.”

Physically exhausted from rehashing the story for a second time,
since Lena pried it out of me hours beforehand, I had to change the subject or
hang up on her. I chose the former. “Let’s talk about something else. So, you
ready for the heat? You guys still having that neighborhood block party next
week?”

And just like that, the tinge of worry in her voice faded. “I don’t
think I’ll ever be ready for the summer heat here. I’ll take what’s left of May
and savor it for its scattered showers and breezes because June is set to have
record highs this year. It’s going to be unbearable. You remember Doris, my
friend from Chicago? Well, she is having the hardest time with the weather now.
I haven’t a clue how she’s going to make it through the rest of the summer. Did
I tell you about her? Lord, that woman can gossip. She said
,
she caught her friend Lucy from the homeowner’s association flirting with the
postman. It’s no wonder none
of
her children look
alike
. That Lucy is a rolling stone in every
sense of the word. She got her breast done with silicone implants and one of
them hardened up on her. She ended up having all this pain and having one
breast for a week
.
”
This is the mother I know and love and steer clear of when she’s on her
gossiping rant.

I imagined her comfortable as ever in her favorite leopard chair,
feet propped up on her tufted red velvet ottoman, settled and ready for hours
of yapping.
A full cup of coffee and
B
ailey’s, or given the hour, a glass of red
wine.

Mom was still going, “I was rolling on the floor when I heard that.
You know, Lucy’s in charge of the block party this year, so there’s no telling
who’s going to be there or how it’s going to turn out. She can’t cook worth a
dime, so it’s likely to be potluck or catered. I just hope she doesn’t come
with all that skinny food. I can just imagine a buffet of celery sticks and
sushi, and a whole bunch of fat free stuff. I have a second mind to march right
up to that woman and tell her that I need some real food with real fat and
preferably something that I can really sink my teeth into. Heck, I’ll bring
something to fill me up. Maybe that photographer will barbecue. He really is
sweet. And, good looking.”

There had to be a catch. Sure she was concerned with the wedding, but
she’d never pass up the chance to marry off both her daughters and increase her
chances of getting grandchildren. “Mom, how did you find out he was a
photographer? What did you do, attack him at the post office?”

“I know what you’re thinking
,
Laila
, and you’re
right. Initially, I was thinking that I should fix you two up. He is a handsome
devil. Kind of favors the doctor on that hospital show. Tall. Full head of wavy
ebony hair, the way you like. Piercing steel
gray
eyes.
A lot like your
eyes, baby.
Broad shoulders. Strong
build
.
Definitely a man’s man, but gentlemanly, too.
But
, I did see this cute little blond girl waiting for him. If
Barbie were human, I’m sure she’s her. Perfect, I’m telling you.
Nothing but skin and bones, but a sweet little thing nonetheless.
Reminds me of a modern Grace Kelly with Pamela Anderson’s body.
Or, one of those Hefner bunnies.
I could tell they were
together, but I don’t know who she is to him because I didn’t see them kiss or
hold hands or anything affectionate. But, you never know with you young folks.”

 
“You still didn’t say how
you found out he’s a photographer.”

 
“Well, the other day, I
was standing there in the line waiting to send a birthday present to Aunt Libby
and he was on the phone with someone in front of me. He was talking loud enough
for me to hear, so I overheard him telling someone that he was booked up for
next weekend shooting three different weddings. Well, you know me. As soon as
he got off the phone, I told him that I couldn’t help but overhear that he was
a wedding photographer and that we might need his services for Lena’s wedding.
He gladly gave me his business card and offered to show us his portfolio.”

“So, that’s it. Just wedding photography and nothing else, right
,
Mom?” I asked skeptically.

“Right.” A tinge of hesitation lingered in her voice.

“Mom, what are you not telling me?”

“Nothing…I just told him that my other single beautiful daughter was
the maid of honor and in charge of the planning, so he would have to meet with
you to talk about the details, that’s all. So, he’s coming to meet you.”

“Mom, tell me you didn’t take that wallet-sized headshot of me out of
your purse again?” She is impossible. Talk about utter embarrassment. I don’t
know how she did it, but she managed to take my headshot from years ago and
shrink it to a wallet-sized version to keep handy in her purse, on the off chance
she might meet my
P
rince
C
harming and not be
able to bribe him into meeting me.

“Well, it couldn’t hurt.
Really,
Laila
.
Plus, I gave him your card and maybe he can
refer you some business. Word of mouth
is
the best form of marketing.”

“Ugh, Mom. You are so embarrassing. I’m absolutely mortified. Now
this guy, who probably thinks I’m a desperate old hag that needs to be fixed up
by her mother, is not going to think I’m a professional. He’s going to think I
need professional help.”

“Oh
,
Laila
, what’s the worst that could happen? He’s married and
maybe he refers some clients who need candy for their weddings. That’s not so
bad.”