Book 02: A Match Made Ch. 02

The biggest surprise, not to mention shock, of the day was seeing Kara leave the condo yesterday. Especially after what Barb told me - I never would have guessed I'd have seen her there. If you want to know the truth -- seeing Kara at the Dunkin Donuts on her birthday made more sense.

The tired old joke is that there are two seasons in Chicago -- winter and construction. Mid November doesn't qualify as winter if there isn't snow -- though most of the construction projects are finished by the end of October. Most of! I snaked my way through 'most of.' It's not like I was in a hurry to get home, especially to an empty home.

I pushed the garage door closed as I opened the back door. I shuddered as I realized how desperately I wished Kara was with me. I threw my coat over the back of a chair; put my purse and keys on the counter, and headed up upstairs.

It felt like every step was like 'The Green Mile.' I know -- stupid. It's my life. It's my house. She's my... everything. And she's not here. Again. Every nerve jangled as I stood in my kitchen. I walked slowly into the living room. I had the oddest feeling that Kara had been here. At first I dismissed it; I'd seen her leave her place. She was on foot too. I have no idea where she was going but she obviously wasn't getting there in her car. Could she have taken a cab up here? Yes of course; but she'd have had to take one home too. Well, she could have had the cab drive her to the train. That's not out of the realm of possibilities. But why would she? Maybe for the same reason I'd gone to her place.

It was the middle of the afternoon and I was all kinds of tired. I decided to try and nap. After I stripped and sat on the toilet one more time, I put my head in my hands and sighed. Is this a game of chicken, Kara? Are you okay? God knows I'm not. If you're as big a mess as me -- please don't do anything stupid.

Stupid? Do you mean like spending the night at her condo? Can a girl get an deportation order for her conscience? You love me and you know it. I shook my head, pulled the covers up, and turned on my side.

And cried.

I love you, blondie!!! Please come home.

And sobbed uncontrollably.

***

I woke up from my nap fuzzy headed and drained. Kara was influencing my mood, my sleep, and a bunch of other things. When we were living together it was a natural part of a relationship. Now -- not so much.

I pulled on some socks, grabbed a sweatshirt from the closet, and headed downstairs and to the kitchen. That was after a stop in the bathroom. It was ugly. I looked tired, haggard, wan, pale; I could go on. I made the decision in that moment to go to the gym more, to get a massage, and to stop pining for my Kara.

I made coffee. I closed my eyes and lay my head against the kitchen cabinet as I thought about what happened this morning at the condo. I shook my head and tried to banish the memory.

I wasn't hungry and I needed to eat. I didn't want to do something complicated. Bacon sounded good. Bacon is my friend. Bacon knows I miss my blondie and will be my friend. Okay, enough Lissy. I'm giggling.

I made bacon and some eggs. Have I talked about eggs and me? Even if I have I'm going to do it again. Anyone can make scrambled eggs. Okay, well not anyone. Kara lived alone all those years. I have no idea how she survived. Anything microwaved was doable. Toast? Waffles? Yes and yes. Pop Tarts. I recuse myself. They make me ill. They're in the same category as ramen noodles. And chicken pot pies.

Anyway -- eggs. I like them flipped, with the yolk broken and crushed red pepper. I made toast too. All I had to add was lettuce and tomato for a BLT. It's Sunday. And I have a hard and fast rule -- I only eat homemade BLT's with Kara.

I'm being a very silly rebel. I poured more coffee and sat down, feeling very satisfied with myself. And very silly.

My phone rang. The ring tone told me it wasn't any of my kiddos; and it wasn't my honey either. I put the sandwich down and got up to get it. Becky! I looked longingly at the sandwich and opened the phone.

"Hi Becky; this is a pleasant surprise. How are you?"

"Hey, Lissy, I'm great. I was sort of torturing myself about whether to call you." I suppose I deserve that. "How have you been?" No matter what, I'm not doing my 'theatric collapse' again.

"Okay overall, Becky. I've been trying to stay busy and manage my attitude. I'm not sure I'm doing a very good job at either, but I'm trying."

"Well, it's still early, Lissy. Give yourself time to put some distance between then and now. Everyone's different. Each relationship has a life and characteristics of its own."

"I'm trying. Anyway, let's not talk about that, Becky. As I mentioned, it's a surprise to hear from you. After the way I made such a mess of our coffee, I was pretty sure I wouldn't hear from you again."

Much as I like the woman, I was somewhat at a loss of what to talk about. We had talked on the phone a few times and the ill fated coffee misadventure didn't last very long.

Kids. She has a daughter; what the hell is her name. I can talk about mine, too.

"Lissy?" Her voice brought me back to the moment. "Do you want to try again?" No; I'm terrified I'd mess it up again. "I'm treating last time as a do-over, a mulligan." I have to tell her.

"Becky, I admit to being more than a little gun shy about a repeat performance. I'm not sure my ego could stand it." The pretty redhead's voice was anything but cordial when she answered.

"Stop doing that to yourself, Lissy." Allrightythen! She laughed. I didn't. "I didn't mean for that to come out quite as sharply as it did, honey." Honey? My honey is blonde. "It may still feel like it just happened yesterday but it didn't. Even if we never click, it's still a night out. Maybe we could try something around Woodfield. I don't know if you go out there very much, but there certainly is no shortage of choices where we could have a good dinner."

Maybe she's trying to tell me something calling me that. "Thanksgiving is pretty much right around the corner. Do you want to do something before or wait till after?" I heard the sigh.

"Do you have a preference, Lissy?"

"I'm sorry, Becky. You're trying to be cheerful and I'm not doing a very good job. You pick a date and a place and I promise I'll say yes. And I promise to be a better date, too." She laughed.

"Ya got me with that one, Lissy, but it's a deal. Would it be okay if I call you after dinner? I'll look online and find something different, fun, for us. What are you doing the rest of the afternoon."

"Sharpening the knives."

We said our goodbyes after we had laughed ourselves silly.

I nuked what was left of the bacon and ate every last crumb. I confess to eating the toast a little at a time as Becky and I talked and most of the bacon as well. I hoped it wasn't too obvious that I was eating; that felt rude.

It was still light out and I had nothing to do, so I changed into workout clothes and hustled myself to the car and the gym.

I'm not crazy about working out. Here's the thing -- I'm not getting any younger, and if I have any hope of staying fit, I have to go. And I have to go more often. And I especially have to be mindful of not letting my mood or my circumstances dictate whether I go or not. The downhill side of 60 is no place to be a slacker when it comes to fitness.

I can't do a damn thing about gravity, but I'm in control of what's between my ears. And I'm pretty sure I'll sleep better after a good workout. I shivered. I mean... oh crap; you and I both know what was on my mind when I wrote that.

I think it was a good workout! I didn't overdo it too badly. I did a set and a half on every machine. First, I did half a set to warm up, a break that consisted of 30 minutes on the recumbent bicycle, and a full set. Yes, my mind wandered as it does a lot. I wondered if Kara was going to her gym as well. I had a feeling, if Barb's report was correct, that she wasn't.

I didn't bother with clothes. I put on clean socks and a warm robe after my shower.

I wasn't all that hungry, so I grabbed a book I was reading and settled in on the big comfy wing chair in the great room. Me, Janet Evanovich, and a bag of Lays BBQ chips. I giggled. I bought 'Explosive Eighteen' when I bought the chips. Stephanie Plum cracks me up. She's a complete spazz; how in the world she ever catches a criminal is beyond me. And the dueling duo of Morelli and Ranger absolutely leave me breathless from laughter.

'Ranger' is almost stereotypical - dark, mysterious, and dangerous. Morelli is all Italian. Hot tempered and always horny. The books aren't deep but they're funny as hell. I can't remember the last time a car Stephanie was driving wasn't blown up, run into, or otherwise destroyed. Sometimes they're her beat up junkers; sometimes they're Ranger's.

Janet's books tend not to run more than 300 pages. If I start early enough and stay up late enough I can polish one off in one sitting. Yup, I can do both a Plum novel and a bag of chips. Your potato chip whore is quite proud of herself.

True to her word, Becky called.

"Do anything fun since we talked this afternoon?"

"Actually yes; I went to the gym and beat myself to a pulp for the heck of it." She laughed. "I realized after we talked that I need to take better care of myself. Some of that includes getting back into the routine of working out." I smiled at the thought. "One never knows when a cute redhead will come along and ask one to dinner.'

"One certainly doesn't and she did. There are a veritable plethora of choices. I've narrowed it down to three -- Wildfire, Shaw's Crab House, and a place with an interesting name... Bonefish." It's such an odd name. Why does it ring a bell?

"I've seen ads for Shaw's, and I've been to Wildfire. Have you been to the oddly named Bonefish, Becky?"

"Nope. I went to their website and was shocked to find there's a restaurant not all that far from me. It's one of four in the Chicago area. Anyway, I guess you aren't interested in Wildfire. Do you like fish, Lissy? Not everyone does."

"I do, yes. I have a feeling that Shaw's is mostly a seafood restaurant. Do you have a preference, Becky? Did you look at the Bonefish menu? Is it more balanced -- a choice of fish, meat and whatever?"

"Yeah I did. And you're right; they offer a good selection to choose from. Red meat, chicken, fish, salads. Do I have a preference? No, not really. If pressed, I'd go with Bonefish. I have no idea what I'd like when we're sitting there, but I think more choices is better than less." I can't say I disagree.

"Then Bonefish it is. You say you found them online. I'll do the same and get the address and directions." I took a chance. "Do you normally eat breakfast?" There was a pause.

"Yesssss, but I'm not sure I understand."

"Shall I call you or nudge you?" Gorgeous laughter rolled through the phone lines.

"'Sneakers.' I love it. A woman with a sense of humor! My god, that movie has to be 20 years old, maybe more."

"My mother took me to see it when I was in high..." Raucous laughter interrupted me.

"That's hysterical - when you were in high school. Oh my god that's so funny. I was born in 1960 and I'm pretty sure you're right around that time somewhere."

"Yeah, I am actually -- 29 comes around again next May. I've done my best to destroy all evidence of when I was born." She's pretty cute, Kara. You better hurry home! Who am I kidding!!!

"The only question is do we do the deed before or after turkey day? We don't have school the day before Thanksgiving if that works for you. You may be cooking -- if you are then we do this after."

I was so self-absorbed with my stuff I completely forgot to spend even a moment thinking about Thanksgiving. I'm kind of surprised none of my kids have called to inquire what the plan is -- maybe that's an indication of what the plan is.

"Becky, I plead guilty to being a dope. I've been so wrapped up with... um, things, that I haven't really made much of a plan. Nor have I talked to my kids about what they're going to do. I suppose my youngest will be here but I have to ask. I'm sorry if that messes you up."

"Don't be silly. We have time. Why don't you call around, find out what's going on, and call me back. There's no rush. Call tomorrow night or whenever." A few moments of silence followed. "Still nothing from... whoever she is?"

"Kara -- her name is Kara, Becky. I should have told you earlier." I shrugged. "And no, there hasn't been anything. The truth is I haven't called her either. It's probably a combination of scared and stubborn."

"Okay, that's understandable. You'll call me and we'll have our dinner. I promise not to pry, Lissy. This will be about two women looking for a good meal, good company and a fun night."

I like her. It's pretty hard not to. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. But I was smiling!

"I hope I can hold up the being good company part. How about we go dutch, Becky? That seems fair for a first date."

"Absolutely; I agree one hundred per cent."

"So, you've upgraded my expectations from a Starbucks to dinner at a place called Bonefish. That's pretty special." She had been laughing as I said what I had.

"Yeah, Lissy, you're pretty special too. Will I hear from you tomorrow?"

"You betcha. I'm sorry I was such a space cadet about the kids. On the other hand, it's made me focus on Thanksgiving which, truth be told, I should have done earlier anyway. I'll call tomorrow one way or the other."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll say goodnight, then. I've enjoyed talking to you."

"Yeah, thanks, Becky; same goes for me. Night, night; don't let the bed bugs bite."

I closed the phone and smacked myself on the forehead. I'm such a dunderhead. How in the world have I let myself get so wrapped up in my head that I've forgotten about Thanksgiving? I could only shake my head.

I'll skip the details on the phone calls to my kids. Bottom line: Ian and Jenna would be staying up north. His parents were going to spend a few days. Good for them. JR and Andi were going to her parents for a family gathering. Rachel was relieved I called. June's Mom wanted her to come home. June could use the excuse that I'd invited them to dinner as a reason not to go where she didn't want to go. I thought maybe I'd talk to her about that. I admit it bugged me a little bit that she didn't make the effort. And I admit I couldn't pretend to know all the details about why she felt like she did.

I sat in the steaming hot tub after closing up the first floor for the night.

Among the intimacies that Kara and I enjoyed was shaving each other. Not our legs either; remember that bench? One would sit on the floor, the other on the bench. Shaving was easier, more intimate, and the opportunities for hijinks were nearly endless. And that doesn't even begin to detail the testing to make sure there were no stragglers on a nice, smooth kitty. I shivered as I remembered.

Thinking about that somehow led me to wonder about Becky. What do I do? One part of me wanted to pitch it all and find out if there was any chance that she could be more than a casual acquaintance. Another part of me wanted... no, was desperate to stay the course and see how things played out with Kara.

Why are you doing this to yourself?

I'm alone in the bathtub. Why the hell do you have to butt into my private time?

What part of 'I'm your conscience' do you not understand?

Fine. I can't do anything about that. What the fuck do you want?

Language!

Stop it; just stop it. I'm way too old to get yelled at about my language.

Whatever. Why are you being such a baby? You need to call her.

I started to cry.

Stop that! Crying solves nothing. Answer me!

I cried hot, bitter tears. Alone, in a bath tub, in my house, I cried for the woman I love.

(Sniffle.) Okay, if you love her enough to cry like this nearly 3 months later, why the fuck don't you call her?

Language!

Why did I take this job? I could be Pink's conscience. Think of how much fun...

I started laughing. My conscience is complaining about... oh dear god!! Kara looked at me funny when I asked her if her kitty talks to her like mine does. How on earth do I tell anyone that my conscience wants to resign and look for someone else? Oh wait!! It's the potato chips. It has to be!! They must contain some mind altering chemicals. Hmm, I think I could use some mind altering. Hee hee. I took a healthy sip of my wine, stared at the glass, hesitated, and took another.

Kitty and my legs were both clean shaven. I made sure to use plenty of lotion after I toweled myself dry. I looked in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. I looked a bunch better. I wasn't real sure why and I wasn't really in the mood to explore.

I have absolutely no idea why I brushed my hair 100 times. I know all about the old saying. I'm old. My hair isn't all that long, but I did go slowly at first then picked up speed a little bit when any chance of a tangle was gone. I smiled at myself in the mirror. Yes, it included me sticking out my tongue. So what if I'm silly? It hurts no one.

Okay, I may have pretended I was the subject of a photo shoot -- not that 56 year old mothers of three are... well, you know. Silly stuff -- I had a hand on a hip, one foot on top of the other. Then I made pouty lips while leaning back with my pelvis thrust forward. In another one I put a foot on the toilet and both hands behind my head. I turned my back to the mirror and tried to look sexy over my shoulder. I finally collapsed in a heap of giggles, nearly breathless. And the tears started -- yes, again.

I can pretend all I want but I miss her. I miss her with every damn cell in my body. And I honest to god don't know that we can ever be together again as much as I want her... us... oh god!!

I didn't bother looking in the mirror. It's not pretty when I'm crying or just afterward. I hung up the towel, turned off the light, and headed to bed. Bed... our bed. Alone again -- naturally. Remember that song? I have no idea when it was popular. I remember hating it -- thinking it was desolate and icky. I can't tell you why my mind dredged up that memory at this moment in time. That bitch of a conscience of mine is probably responsible. I sighed.

I love you, Kara. I hope you're well; I hope you're safe. I miss you. My chin buckled. Please come home, lover.

***

I felt you against me, soft, warm, perfect -- mine! I wondered for a blink of a second how you got here. That you were in our bed made all of the rest not even close to relevant. I smiled, wiggled my butt, and begged for sleep to take me.

It seemed you had other ideas. Your fingers and lips were insistent. I purred deep in my throat and put my right arm behind your head. Your hand slithered from my breast, teasing me. I waited for your warm breath in my ear -- but there were no words spoken. Totally okay, lover. The feel of you, your touch, your mouth on my neck -- god, it's so good.

Fingers continued their journey over familiar terrain. I tried to turn to my back but you used your hip to keep me on my side. I sighed. Those fingers did the most glorious things to hills and valleys that had missed your touch. I knew where you were headed but waited, as patiently as I could, for you to slip past the crest of my hip.

I pivoted slightly, opened my legs as wide as I could, and gave you what I knew you wanted... what I so desperately wanted. I shivered as your fingers reached your prize. I cried out as you circled my clit lightly, dragging a finger nail slowly north to south, then circling around and around.

"Kara, lover, please... take me. Fuck me with those glorious fingers." I felt your smile; you nodded. You bathed me in kisses as your hips pushed against my ass. Your fingers teased me, doing what they knew to do to a body they knew all too well. I moaned as a need I hadn't known since late August burned deep in my core. It exploded like a starburst as your fingers pushed into me. I bucked as I shivered, helpless, thankful, in your grasp, yours -- again.