Not His Type (28 page)

As promised, Cathy made cinnamon rolls first thing
Wednesday morning. Her sister and cousin groaned and
complained about their ‘nonexistent’ expanding waistlines.
Out of the baker’s dozen she made, five were gone by the
time she got out of the shower.

Cathy had a lot of ground to cover for the office, which
was why she called in her trusty sometimes assistant David
to work with her for the day. He was one of the few people
who could work with her in her home office. Cathy had
tried to be very civic and community minded by offering
the opportunity to young people in high school but it
hadn’t worked out. She could live with them singing the
alphabet song to organize the filing system. What she
couldn’t live with was that the filing would still be out of
order and it would take her twice as long to get anything
accomplished.

David Macmillan was actually an attorney who did a
lot of volunteer work for different charitable and political
organizations. He and Cathy became friends during the
Democratic Convention in ’96. Deep down she thought
he was going to eventually bring her the great American
novel. In the meantime, he was a hotshot international
corporate attorney who set his price and his own hours. At
6’4, a trim 200 pounds, with sandy brown hair and light
brown eyes, he wasn’t hard on the eyes. He was off limits,
however. He was married to his work.

There was a knock at the door at nine. He was as punctual as ever.
“Come on in!” Cathy shouted from the living room.
“Mmm, it smells wonderful in here.” He walked into
the living room with coffee from Dunkin Donuts.
“There are cinnamon rolls in the kitchen, handsome.”
He gave her a peck on the cheek. “You look different
in a good way. What’s going on, boss?”
“You don’t know?”
“No. That’s why I’m asking. I was in Europe for nearly
two weeks. I just got back a couple of days ago.”
“Oh, that explains it.”
“Explains what? You’re killing me here.”
“Tell you what. Grab a couple of cinnamon rolls and
I’ll fill you in.”
“Sounds interesting. I’ll be right back.”
When he returned, Cathy filled him in on everything
that had happened in her little corner of the world.
He seemed astonished. “When you decide you’re going
to date again, you don’t mess around.”
She laughed. “I couldn’t have found a better man if I’d
planned it. No disrespect to you, my darling.”
“None taken. Are you planning any legal action against
the newspaper for running that full of crap article?”
“E.D. called Frank about it. I haven’t heard anything
since.”
“Tell you what. I’ll get in touch with Frank sometime
this week or by Monday at the latest to see if we can get
together to handle this for you. I can only imagine how
you felt, retraction or no retraction.”
“It was awful and I’d like to put it behind me.”
“You should. But as long as you’re dating a high profile
baseball player like Marcus Fox, there will be no rest until
the end of baseball season, we can only hope then.”
“I love baseball season.”
“I know you love your Yankees.”
“I have to take the good with the bad.”
He looked into Cathy’s eyes. “You’re not just dating
him; you’re in love.”
“Is it that obvious?” Cathy wondered if she had something written on her forehead.
“I knew there was something different about you. I
guess I’ll just continue to pine away for you.”
She playfully tossed her napkin at him. “You are so full
of it. You’re married to your career and if I’m not mistaken,
you’ve had your share of beautiful women to keep you
warm.”
“True. But none of them are as warm as you.”
Cathy scoffed. “That’s because I weigh more than 110
pounds soaking wet. Bones tend to get cold and I am in no
danger of that happening to me.”
“You know I hate it when you talk about yourself like
that. You’ve always been comfortable in your skin and
that’s what impressed me the most about you.”
“Marcus said the same thing.”
“See. Great minds think alike.” He sipped his coffee.
“So before we get into any more chatting, what’s the
project for today?”
“We’re having a little power struggle problem.”
“Beatrice and Sandra, right?”
“However did you guess?” she asked facetiously.
“I take it she needs another little call from counsel.”
“Would you please?”
As an international attorney David knew his way
around contractual negotiations. Legal insiders referred to
him as the terminator, so having him assist in negotiations
was a real plus for all of the agency’s clients.
“Consider it done.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll give you a call to let you know how it went.”
“Cool. I’ll be around on Thursday but I’m leaving
Friday for the weekend.”
David pretended to faint.
“Ha, very funny. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve
taken a weekend off.”
“You mean a real weekend? Dropping the kids off at
college doesn’t count.”
Why does everyone keep saying that to me?
She thought
about it. “Okay, you win. It’s been a long time.”
“If ever.”
“Now you’re taking it too far. Can you do me a favor
and get Jennifer’s file from upstairs so we can work on
making sure she’s straightened out before the publisher
gets the materials? Thank you, darling.”
“Back in a minute.”
He sprinted up the stairs. Within a minute he was
back.
He sat down and opened the files. “There’s a lot of
stuff here.”
“I know. I want to get it in order.”
“Of course Jennifer has all this stuff, right? And this is
your ‘just in case’ backup file.”
“I am very well aware of just how anal I am. You are
too.”
He started sorting. “Ain’t that the truth?”
She threw a paper clip at him.
“Hey.”
They worked quietly for a few minutes.
“How’s your brother doing?”
He slowed down. “He’s okay. He has his good and bad
days. You know the story.”
“Now ain’t that the truth?”
“Now who’s being a smarty pants?”
She chuckled. “All kidding aside, David, how are
things really going?”
David’s younger brother had MS. A few years ago his
relapses had become more frequent and each time he was
left a little bit worse off. David made sure his brother had
the best care possible. He was a good big brother.
“The doctor says he thinks the physical therapy is
helping.”
“Good.”
“Brian wants to join one of the programs at the Y. I’m
not so sure about it.”
“What did his neurologist say? I’m sure you asked
him.”
“He think it’s a good idea for him physically and
socially.”
“He’s right, you know. The programs are terrific and it
will give him a chance to socialize.”
“How do you know about the programs?”
“I used to take Alex and Andrew to the Y for swimming and I saw the classes in session. It looked like great
fun to me. My pilates instructor, Mo, works with MS
patients too. She’s really good.”
“Really?”
“And she’s on the north shore, which isn’t far from
you.”
“Jot down the name and number before I leave.”
“I will.”
“So the programs are good?”
“Oh yes. Since he’s in a wheelchair all he’ll need is
someone to go with him.”
“Good deal.”
David and Cathy worked the rest of the morning and
into the afternoon. She threw together a little pasta
carbonara for lunch with mixed greens and apple fritters
for dessert. She might not pay David with money but he
was a bachelor, which meant he went months without a
home cooked meal. This way they both got something
good out of the deal. David had a date with one of his
ladies, so they finished everything by the early part of the
afternoon.

Cathy broke down and went to the mall a little later in
the afternoon. If she had a choice, she preferred to shop
during the week. Weekends at the mall were not her thing.
She wasn’t crazy about playing chicken with her car in the
parking lot. In light of her scheduled trip, Cathy felt the
need to visit Victoria’s Secret to add a few more colors to
her lingerie collection.

An energetic salesperson greeted her as she entered. She
lingered over some pretty nighties and penoir sets, even
though Cathy knew she couldn’t get her left boob in one,
let alone the rest of her body. So on to the panty displays
she went. Though she was not much for bikinis, she
refused to put on old lady underwear. Cathy perused the
table of high cut briefs, which were a little sexy for her size,
and picked up ten pair. While she was standing in line she
noticed two young ladies picking over the same display.

“They are some over here if you ladies would like to
look.” The salesperson led them away.
“Thank God,” Cathy mumbled.
“I’m with you,” the woman behind her said.
Cathy turned around. “I don’t think I ever wore extra
small, even when I was a kid.”
“They are so obviously PBB. Pre-baby bodies.”
She laughed. “I never heard that before.”
“Everything about them at that age is perky, from their
attitude to their boobs.”
“I’m just happy the panties go up to a large and extra
large. Big girls like the little pink shopping bag, too,”
Cathy added.
The woman laughed and the cashier smiled. Cathy had
been so centered on her size that she’d nearly forgotten that
there were more women like her than women like Cybil. If
there were more women like Cybil, Cathy thought, she’d
probably be out of a job. Only in America could the media
make women who are in the majority feel like second-class
citizens.

On her way out of the mall Cathy slowed down long
enough to notice there were a few new stores, including one
for the younger plus size woman. She looked at the display
window; it was good to see someone finally address this
need. Girls needed to look like girls, young and pretty, not
like little matrons. As she looked at the outfits, Cathy
thought even she could get away with a couple of them.

“I think you’d look great in any of those,” a male voice
said.
“You don’t think they’re a little too young for me?”
“Not at all. You have a nice figure, you should show it
off.”
She thought for a moment. “Maybe I’ll go in and try
one on.”
“You should.”
“I need an objective opinion, Paul. Are you busy?” She
turned around to see the look of astonishment on his face.
“I have some time.”
“Good. I’m going away for the weekend and I need
something fun like this to wear.”
“A weekend getaway sounds like fun. Where are you
going?”
“Florida. Let’s go in, shall we?”
They were met by a salesperson/greeter.
“Hi, my name is Missy. Can I help you?”
“Hi, Missy. I would like to see that third ensemble in
the window. It’s the jeans and a halter top.”
“The jeans are by Baby Phat. You’ll like them.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“What size do you need?” Missy asked.
“I need a size 16 or 18, depending on the cut.”
She looked at her. “I think you’re more of a size 16.”
She took a pair from the rack.
“Okay.”
“What about the tops?”
“Well, I wear a 40DD, if that helps.”
Paul looked uncomfortable. Cathy knew she was going
to have fun with him.
“It does. You will probably need a 2X.”
“I know. I’ve had big boobs for a long time.” She
laughed. “Can I try that hanky hem shirt, too?”
“Sure.” The clerk handed her both tops. “The fitting
room is over there.” She pointed to the rear of the store.
Cathy handed Paul her Victoria’s Secret bag and pocketbook as if he were her personal valet. “Hold these please.
Thank you.”
Cathy secretly enjoyed that fish out of water expression
on Paul’s face. Once in the dressing room she got out of her
clothes and changed into the jeans, which fit nicely. She put
the halter top on.
“How are you doing in there?” Missy asked.
“I think it’s good.” She stepped out of the fitting room
and did a little twirl. “So what do you think?”
“That looks hot,” Missy said.
“What do you have to say, Paul?”
His face was red, which said it all. “You look good.”
“Then I’m taking this outfit and the other top.”
“You’re not going to try the other top on?”
“No, Missy. I think I’ve tortured my former boyfriend
long enough.”
Missy smirked. “Gotcha.”
Cathy went back into the fitting room.
Fifteen minutes later she was sitting in the food court
with Paul.
“I think you picked the right outfits for the weekend.
It’s a shame that I’m not the one who’s going to enjoy
looking at you in them.”
“Thank you for your help and for holding my stuff for
me.”
“That wasn’t too uncomfortable.”
She snickered. “Not too much.”
A knowing look came over Paul’s face. “Before I saw
you I was on the fence but now I’m sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“I wasn’t sure if you were in love with him but now I
can see it. Your whole attitude has changed. You seem
happier, lighter and more at peace. Not to mention you
didn’t rip me a new one.”
Cathy shrugged her shoulders. “What would that have
accomplished? It’s over and done with.”
“That might be true for you but I will always regret
how I took you for granted time and time again. I’m
surprised you put up with me for as long as you did.”
“I’m surprised about that too. God knows I should have
dumped your ass much sooner.”
“Why didn’t you?” He genuinely wanted to know.
Cathy contemplated a moment. “In a way I was scared
to let you go, which makes it as much my fault as yours
since I let you get away with hurting me time after time. I
was afraid I’d never find anyone else. It took finding you in
bed with another woman to knock some sense into me.”
“It took you catching me to get me to finally realize I
blew the best thing I ever had.”
He got up to hold her chair as she started to stand. “I
guess we both learned a lesson,” Cathy said.
He put the chair back. “You’re never too old to learn.”
Cathy turned to Paul. “Are you sure I won’t look stupid
in these outfits?”
“You looked great in them. Don’t worry about it. You
don’t look 40 at all.”
She smiled. “You think not?”
“I know not.” He grinned.
Paul walked Cathy to her car. She was glad that they’d
reached a truce. She gave him a hug and headed home,
having done one of the most grown-up things she’d ever
done.