Page 10 of The Sky in Summer
“You should be attracted to me. I’m exactlyyourtype.”
“How do you know what kind of man I’m attracted to?”
“You just told me. You’re not looking for serious. Right? So that’s me. I am moving to Paris in four months. What other excuses do you have?”
“I don’t need excuses. I just know myself. I’m not interested in just hooking up, and I’m too busy being a single mother. Believe me, it wouldn’t be your thing to date someone with children. Paris or not.”
“That’s awfully presumptuous of you. As much as the idea of having sex with me has grabbed all your attention, I said nothing about hooking up. And Ihavedated women with children.”
“Is that a lie?”
“Yes.”
“Well at least you admit it when pressed,” I chuckle.
“See,nowyou can say you know something about me. I’m a terrible liar. I out myself when caught.”
“Here’s what I think, Van. Let’s just meet for lunch. As friends. It would be fun to hear about your life. And I can give you the abridged version of mine. We have thirty plus years to catch up on.”
There’s a pause. I wait him out.
“Abridged?”
“Yes.”
“Whatever you say, beautiful.”
“And don’t call me that. It sounds insincere.”
“What kind of crazy woman doesn’t like to be called beautiful? Tell me now. Is there a Layla Rules of Order book I need to study before we meet?”
“No. I’ll let you know where you mess up as we go along.”
There is a playfulness that can be felt between the words. It grabs my attention.
“So when should we do this? Are you working during the week? By the way, what do you do?” Van asks.
The doorbell rings.
“I’ll tell you all about it when we have lunch. How about Wednesday at one? You free then? Sorry I have to run. Think someone is at the front door.”
“Yeah, that will work. How about Ricardo’s? Do you like Mexican food?”
“Perfect. I’ll meet you there.”
“It’s a date,” he says.
“No. It’s a lunch.”
3
Van
Tomorrow at this time, we’ll be enjoying a margarita or three, and things will relax. She’ll be less uptight and resistant to the idea. Was it nerves the other day? I’m not sure. There wasn’t any hesitation in her responses. Come to think of it, it was the opposite. And there was something too definite in the tone.It’s not a date, it’s just lunch, Van!Jesus. Message received. I only asked you to lunch, not for your hand in marriage.
It was kind of appealing though, the way she persistently pushed aside my best efforts. And the fact she made the resistance seem believable, that was the most impressive part. It created doubt in me. Now I’m only ninety-nine percent sure she’s bluffing.
It doesn’t happen often, but there is something I like about women who initially reject me. The ones who act a little distant. It is clear what that something is. I like the chase. The beginning has all the sensations. When it is particularly hard fought, resistance can lengthen the buzz. TheI can’t live without youpart that is doomed to fade no matter how good it feels. That sad truth according to not only me, but most realistic people. Love that fucking buzz though. Maybe it means I should be analyzed. I envision the therapist writing FUCKBOY on her pad halfway through one session.
