Chapters One, Two, and Three - Revised

Chapter One

Katy had had an absolutely horrible day.  Today was the day that she realized, for the very first time, that it was over.  Her fiancé of over two years had left her three months ago, and she had spent most of her time waiting for him to come back.  Come back to her. 

This morning, she just woke up and realized that he would never be back.  For, regardless of the fact that she loved powerful and deep, it had not been unconditionally, and Alan could never have lived up to those conditions.  He had always been a bit of a playboy, so when he proposed to her, it had been a bit of a coup.  And she had loved him madly for it. 

She should have known, did know, at the time, that it would never really happen. You see, commitment was not his strong suit.  Although he had truly loved her and wanted to commit to her; he couldn’t change who he was, and it was never in the cards.

            Now, at twenty-eight she was alone again.  For some reason, alone never bothered her girlfriends, but for her, alone always translated into lonely. 

She didn’t feel that she needed a man to make her whole.  She was a whole person already.  What she needed was someone to share her life with.  And someone to share his life with her.  She didn’t need a man to complete her character; she needed a man who would complement her character.  In her mind, a relationship was not about two halves coming together and completing each other, it was about two independent entities coming together to create a team that was greater than the sum of its parts.

            Katy was an amazing woman, and she needed an equally amazing man.  That had been the hard part of relationships for her.  Men were often intimidated by her.  She was highly intelligent, independent, and attractive. 

She had always struggled to find a man who could accept all of these qualities.  What she wanted, needed, was a man who could truly appreciate all that she was.  She had thought that she’d found that in Alan.  She was wrong. 

So, here she was, twenty-eight and alone.  Alone again was somewhere that she had never wanted to be.

            Tonight, her three closest friends had decided to take her out to “celebrate her new found freedom”.  To them, her ended engagement made her free and available again.  It was a time for fun and dating.  She just wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.

            After a long day that was filled with stress from this unwanted “Eureka” moment, she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her apartment, assessing herself. She wasn’t tall; she was only five-four, five-five in heels.  She had eyes that were dark, dark blue. They were too bright for gray, but without the trace of pink that would qualify them as violet.  Her hair was long, down to her waist.  And it was a light shade of brown with just enough golden highlights to keep from being called mousy.  She had broad shoulders for a woman, but not exceptionally broad, full breasts, and the type of hips that the old heads used to call childbearing hips.  She didn’t have a tiny little waist, but she wasn’t thick in the middle either. 

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she was generally pleased with her form.  Her lips were full and her profile strong, with straight white teeth that made her face appear to glow when she smiled.  While no part of her could be called perfect, when put together as a whole, she was a good-looking woman.

            This revelation made her suddenly feel better about tonight.  Just realizing that she was not some old withered thing made her feel like freedom was not such a bad idea.  Twenty-eight wasn’t old; it was the prime of one’s life. 

Now she was free to enjoy that prime.  As she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized things about herself.  Things that hadn’t occurred to her during her “eureka” moment.  A series of “eurekas” banded together at once.

One such thing was that she hadn’t really loved Alan.  The thing that had most attracted her to him was his lack of availability.  It occurred to her that her joy over the engagement was more about the coup than the love.  Possession and loyalty are not the same things as love.  At that moment, much of her anger at him for ending the relationship faded.  Maybe he would have been able to commit, if he had been receiving the same love back that he had been giving.

            One would expect that this revelation would make Katy angry with herself.  It didn’t.  She should have been angry with herself for the end of the relationship, but somehow, with astonishing clarity, she recognized that the end of the relationship was freeing.  It freed her to enjoy her life, and it freed Alan to find the love that he richly deserved. 

Maybe she should have been angry with herself for wasting two years of her life in a relationship that was going nowhere.  But clarity again awoke in her, during those two years, she learned a great deal about herself and about love.  One thing that so many people seek in life is knowledge of what it feels like to be truly loved.  Katy had that knowledge.  And she was a better woman for it.

            She sat down and briefly jotted a note to Alan, apologizing for the fact that it hadn’t worked out, and absolving him of all guilt.  She wrote to him in her most wonderful of prose to let him know that he meant a great deal to her.  Then she did the most important thing: she thanked him for loving her.  At that point, the dove had flown, and three months of brooding about the break up were over.  The anger and the pain ended suddenly, like a perpetual motion machine that had lost its perpetuality.

            With that mission completed, she set herself to getting ready for tonight.  She carefully picked out three possible outfits.  Katy intended to let her friends make the final decision.  After a quick shower, she began the arduous task of hair and makeup.  She was very careful, because her three closest friends were all beautiful, and an evening out with them had the ability to make her feel, at times, like the ugly stepsister.  She wanted tonight to be her coming out party, not a bruise to her fragile ego, so she took an unusual amount of time with her preparations.

            Jasmine arrived at the apartment first.  She was only an inch taller than Katy, but somehow, her presence always seemed more formidable.  They greeted each other with hugs and kisses, and then Katy sized Jasmine up. 

She looked characteristically lovely tonight.  Her long black hair had not so much as one tiny wave in it and the crispness of the straight hair was a perfect frame for her Irish pale face.  Her dark green blouse brought out the depth in her pale green eyes and accentuated her small, perky breasts.  The length of her black skirt emphasized her athletic bottom, while hiding the thickness of her waist. 

Jasmine had a very athletic build and not an ounce of fat on her, but her waist had never gotten thin.  It had been Jasmine’s one desire, to have a tiny little waist.  That desire had always eluded her.  Her form was lovely, just the same. 

Katy looked at her beautiful face with awe and envy.  Her only flaws were that her nose and chin were just a tiny bit too sharply pointed to make her model beautiful.  Those tiny flaws kept her an attainable true beauty.  Her personality fitted her appearance well; she was soft, outgoing, and beautiful in personality as well.  They spoke briefly about the day’s events as they waited for the other girls, and Jasmine looked over her choices for Katy’s outfit for tonight.

            As they spoke, Jasmine wondered, somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, why her dear friend was so self-conscious.  Self-conscious enough, in fact, to be unable to pick out a simple outfit without assistance.  When Jasmine looked at Katy, she saw a beautiful, brilliant, personable woman with all of the characteristics that a man could want.  All of the characteristics, of course, except for a love of football, which Jasmine loved and Katy detested.  She was never sure where this low self-esteem stemmed from, and had tried for years to figure it out, unsuccessfully.

            Lindsey was the next to arrive, and she was wearing horizontal stripes.  Neither girl questioned this choice for tonight, they both understood the motivation.  Lindsey was model-thin.  She was 5’9”, and never wore heels because of it.  She was one of those girls that you hated because she could eat anything and never gain weight.  The type of girl that females who were just acquaintances insisted must be bulimic, because “no one could eat like that and still be that thin.” 

The girls in this room, however, were more than just acquaintances, they were her dearest long-time friends, and they knew how hard Lindsey tried to gain weight.  She had even, once upon a time, drunk a supplement called “Weight Gain 2000”.  It was something designed to help body builders bulk up, but all that it did for Lindsey was make her very hyper.  Evidently her metabolism just sped up whenever extra calories were ingested. 

            So, horizontal stripes were typical for an evening out.  Lindsey hoped that they would add weight to her model-perfect figure, but all that they did was emphasize her ample bosom, which made her waist appear even thinner.  These girls had often envied Lindsey’s figure, until they realized that it was as much a curse as a blessing. 

Men often assumed that Lindsey was “a dumb model” when they looked at her, as though all models were dumb, and as though she were a model.  So, men were often interested in little more than “getting with a model” when they spent time with her, and she was often lonely in the relationship world.  The type of men who would be interested in her as much for her mind as for her body were often intimidated by her looks, and never asked her out.

            To give credit to her, she did have a beautiful face.  She had long brown hair, slightly wavy, and deep brown eyes.  She had a pixie-like round face, with dimples that went on for miles.  She had small, straight white teeth with just the tiniest overlap between the front two.  She smiled often when her close friends were around, but rarely found reason to smile without them.  Her smile was infectious. 

Making Lindsey smile was the accomplishment of quite a feat, thereby making her smiles as great a joy for the viewer as for the subject.  The tall, slender beauty had only one flaw, her eyes were very deeply set, which works well for many, but on her slender frame had the tendency to make her look slightly emaciated.  This flaw did nothing to dispel the rumors about her bulimia.

            Now all three girls were in the bedroom laughing and talking about the day’s events.  Lindsey had made Cape Cods for herself and Jasmine.  She knew that Jasmine preferred Gin and Tonic, but the only alcohol in Katy’s apartment was Vodka, so Jasmine would just have to settle.  On her way out of the kitchen, she grabbed a Coke for Katy. 

This was a standard for their time together, as Katy hated the taste of alcohol and would always be the designated driver.  It was of great benefit to the girls.  It meant that they could relax and let their hair down, all the while being responsible about their drinking.  They knew that there would be someone sober who loved them looking out for them at all times, and that same person would be there to drive them home.  It made fun more fun.  

            So far, the votes on her outfit were not helpful.  Jasmine picked outfit number one, which was an ankle length gray skirt that was fitted fairly tightly from the waist to the knees, complemented by a red shell and a gray fitted jacket.  It would accentuate her figure nicely, but she wasn’t sure if gray was lively enough for clubbing. 

Lindsey said that outfit number three was definitely out, as she felt that mini-skirts were an obvious attempt at gaining attention.  She also stated that either outfit number one or outfit number two (black slacks complemented by a black turtleneck and a magenta jacket) would be “just fine”.

            “I’m going to go with outfit number one”, Katy stated unequivocally.  Her decision was made.

            Jasmine responded quickly, “Wow, that’s a lot of pressure on me.  Letting me pick the outfit.  Are you sure that you don’t want to wait for Claudette’s opinion?”

            Katy laughed, “Don’t worry, you didn’t pick it alone, Lindsey also gave it half a vote.  I won’t hold you responsible if I spend all night feeling like a geek.  If I wait to get dressed until I get Claudette’s vote, we’ll get to the club about five minutes after closing.”

            All three of the girls laughed.  It might not seem like a funny line, but it was a bit of an inside joke.  Claudette had a habit of being late.  It might have been that she functioned in her own personal time zone, or it might have been intentional, so that she could make an entrance.  On anyone else, it would be considered taking fashionably late well past the fashionable point, but for Claudette, it worked.  It took a unique person to pull that off.  Claudette was such a unique person.

            She, like the other girls was quite beautiful in her own way.  She had auburn hair, which fell just below her shoulders.  It was always just a tiny bit out of control, which made it appear as though she got her looks without effort.  That was far from the truth, she spent just as much time in front of the mirror as any other woman did. 

Claudette had a long, straight nose, that was unremarkable for the most part, but it was straight enough not to draw attention away from the rest of her face.  She had an oval face, with just a tiny hit of a jowl at the jaw line, and her eyes were perfectly even, which was unusual; most people have at least some variance between their eyes.  But their evenness was not their most striking feature, her eyes would have been brown, but they had that tiny hint of pink that the violet-eyed are blessed with.  This made what could have been plain brown eyes as auburn as her hair, and formed a draw to her appearance that most women wished to have, but that few were ever so lucky to receive.

            Claudette’s figure was nothing to laugh at either.  Her breasts were full, not quite as full as Katy’s, but fuller than those of the other two girls.  Her hips were full as well.  Her tiny little waist gave her the perfect hourglass figure that so many women had dreamt of for decades. 

Only in recent years, had women switched their attempts at the rail-thin, waif-like figure.  Katy always felt that those women had changed their focus to thin because they secretly still wanted the hourglass, but there was nothing (short of plastic surgery) that one could do to achieve it.  All one needed for the waif figure was to exercise, diet, or starve.

            On top of such a lovely face and a perfect figure, Claudette also had something extra.  It was hard to describe, but it was the thing that could differentiate between identical women.  Take two identical women with identical skills.  Both women become actresses, one is a character actress, but the other is a movie star.  Or both women become models and one is stuck doing print ads while the other becomes a supermodel. 

In each case, the second woman had something special, something extra, something indefinable.   This was the thing that Claudette had; the thing that the girls could not define, could not describe, but that they just called “the Claudette factor”.  It was visible every time that Claudette walked into a room; her presence was known, felt by every person in every corner of that room.

            Katy was ready to go by the time that Claudette finally arrived.  She walked through the door with her usual flair, and was wearing an oversized men’s tuxedo jacket that was wide in the shoulders, complete with shoulder pads.  The jacket was a startling shade of magenta.  Katy quickly wondered who the man was that would wear such a jacket.

Underneath her jacket, Claudette wore a black catsuit, which showed off her figure without making a spectacle.  It was an amazing outfit, but one that most women would have been afraid to be seen in public wearing.  That was a good thing, because few women other than Claudette could have pulled of such an outfit. 

The girls headed to the club, their cumulative coolness increased by about 10 points just by being seen with Claudette.

            Not much had changed in the clubbing scene in the two years since Katy had been out.  There was still the brightly colored hand stamp on her left hand that she had received at so many clubs in college.  She’d heard that clubs in bigger cities had UV stamps, that could only be seen under special light.  She wished that local clubs had these as well. 

The current stamps always took two or three days to come off and often served as a reminder of fun times had on the club circuit.  She remembered back in college when the girls would hit a different club on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights.  On Sunday, she would look like Sadie the painted lady with all of the ink on her.  But now, in her current position, she would have to keep that in mind when planning her nights out with the girls.  No one wanted to go for a check up from a Nurse Practitioner with a bar stamp on her hand.  Going out would have to be reserved for Friday nights, to give her stamp time to wear off for a busy Monday morning of pap smears and pregnancy tests.

            Just as they had done so many times before, the girls found a “quiet” corner table, not that anywhere in the club was quiet; this table was as close as they would get.  They quickly ordered drinks from their cocktail waitress, who looked about 16 to Katy, which meant that she was probably an eighteen-year-old college freshman. 

It was strange to Katy that at the young age of twenty-eight, college students already looked like kids to her.  She couldn’t wait to see how young they looked to her at thirty-five.  Well, maybe she could wait. 

After they received their drinks, they each took a sip, and then headed for the dance floor.  Each of the girls was an excellent dancer, although none of them was exactly ready for the ballroom circuit, and it was a nice way to make the men of the room aware of their presence.  They also loved dancing for its calorie burning effect.  There were many nights when they had danced so hard that they woke up sore the next morning.  It was quite the high impact aerobic workout when done correctly.

            Somewhere during the evening, Katy had just started thinking about all of the things that she didn’t like about clubbing.  As the evening wore on, all of the people around her became increasingly intoxicated.  At times, that was amusing.  At other times, it was somewhat pathetic.  Then there were times like right now, when it just made her feel left out.  Like everyone else had a private joke that she was not privy to.  She started to wish that she was somewhere else, someone else.  Then he walked in.

            He was tall, from Katy’s estimation around 5’10”.  He had hair that was cropped very close, almost in a crew cut, around the sides, cropped just a tiny bit longer on the top.  It was cut so short that it looked almost light brown, but Katy was quite sure that it would be blond if it had any length to it.  He had broad shoulders and a muscular body.  He was muscular without looking like a pumped up body builder.  He looked very athletic and healthy, without it going overboard. 

That was very nice.  Katy liked her men to still have necks.  He was at a distance, so she couldn’t tell his eye color, but she could see the straightness and strength of his somewhat chiseled face.  Not movie star chiseled, but just strong enough to draw her in.  She could see herself getting very lost in his face, engulfed by his appearance.  He was intoxicating.

            She turned to her circle of friends, each involved in casual conversations with other patrons, and said, “If God came to earth, he would look like that.”

            “Where?” Jasmine asked.

            Katy replied, “He’s right by the door, the guy on the left.”  

            “Our left or theirs?” Claudette asked.  All three girls were gawking at the door, trying to pick out which of the three young men was Mr. Wonderful.

            “Ours.”

            “Sweet.  I would like him better if his shirt wasn’t orange.  Orange, very classy.  What, does he work on a road crew?”  Claudette laughed and the girls joined her.  Then she said, “Guess what, he’s looking right at you.”

            “Yeah, who believes ya?”  Katy laughed, but she couldn’t resist the urge to check.  And he was.  He was staring right at her and saying something to his friends.  Typically, this would have made her paranoid, but there was something about the way that he was staring at her.  This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, she thought.

            She looked away, attempting to be casual.  When she glanced casually back (with men, casual was the key), he was no longer looking at her.  He had made his way to the bar to order drinks.  He seemed to be having a lively conversation with the very female bartender. 

Katy could have been jealous, but she liked watching the easy way that he spoke to the girl.  He was obviously quite comfortable in his own skin; comfortable but unaffected.  It was quite the turn on.  She imagined herself on the receiving end of that conversation.  She shook herself out of the fantasy by reminding herself that while he sounded like a Nobel Prize winner in her head, it was very likely that he would be unable to form a complete sentence in reality.  She managed to keep her feet on the ground by repeating that over and over in her head.

            Lindsey smiled at her.  “Give the poor guy a chance.  Don’t start writing him off already.”

            “What, did I say that out loud?” Katy laughed.

            “You don’t have to; I’ve known you long enough that I could read your mind.”  Lindsey had been her friend since they were little kids.  “And right now I am reading the words Not a Nobel Prize winner.”

            “Girl, you are positively eerie.”

            Lindsey suddenly became serious, “Listen, they aren’t all going to be Mensa members, and just because they aren’t doesn’t qualify them for the Special Olympics either.  Don’t start grading his intellect already.  Besides, if you wait around all of your life for a man as smart as you, you’ll end up living in a house with 80 cats, and spending your free time making dresses for them.”

            The phrasing amused Katy, but she understood the deeper message in Lindsey’s words, “I get it.  And I know that I am a bit of an intellectual snob.  I promise that I will give him a chance.  If he looks my way again, that is.”

            The four women were having a blast.  Katy spent most of the evening catching up with old friends from college and the club scene that she hadn’t seen in quite some time.  Although she had met Alan in a club, he had quickly lost interest in clubbing.  He always said that clubs were where lonely people went to meet other lonely people. 

Katy didn’t agree with him, although she used to meet a lot of people in clubs, she went because she liked to dance and spend time with her friends.  Meeting new people was a bonus.  But, as was typical in their relationship, Alan had won that argument and they had stopped going to clubs.

            The evening was perfect; Katy rotated her time between catching up with her old friends and dancing up a sweat on the dance floor.  She occasionally stole a glance at the handsome stranger, and often, she caught him stealing a glance at her.  She felt that she had made an impression on him. 

She hoped that he would come up and talk to her.  She had thought about just going over and introducing herself, but she was newly single and wasn’t sure that she was quite ready for that yet.  So, she focused on her other activities, and waited to see what would happen.

            Around midnight, she was talking to a girl that had been in the Nursing Program with her, and she noticed the stranger coming towards her.  He was looking Katy right in the eye.  He was finally going to introduce himself. 

She started thinking, “Just relax.  Act casual.  You can do this.  You are a bright and attractive woman; it’s going to be fine”.  As he got closer, she smiled and he returned it.  When he got within a few feet of her, he nodded his head and gave her a “tip-of-the-hat” salute, she nodded back.  And then he walked right by her to talk to a young man standing on the other side of the room, who was obviously a friend of his.  Katy’s internal balloon deflated.

            After that, the night was uneventful.  She gave tons of hugs to old friends and made new acquaintances.  She did learn that she could still tie a cherry string in a knot with her tongue.   She also learned that Claudette was still the best dancer in town.  Other than that, nothing exciting.

            The closed down the club and Katy took her friends home.  It had been a good evening, and Katy was exhausted.  She went in and crashed without so much a brushing her teeth or taking off her makeup.  She knew that she would look like the world’s best-dressed raccoon in the morning, but right now she didn’t care.  She just needed sleep. 

As she rolled the high points of the evening over in her mind, a glimpse of the handsome stranger flashed through her mind.  Katy fell asleep.

Chapter Two

            Saturday was an uneventful, lazy day for Katy.  After bringing her now-sober friends back to their cars, she read the paper and relaxed.  She did spend some time trying to remove her hand stamp from the night before, first with alcohol, then with baby oil.  After these two attempts and her shower, the stamp had faded considerably, but it was still there like an albatross.  The most exciting part of the day was when she got a mid-afternoon call from Jasmine letting her know that they were all going to the OK Corral tonight.  Katy jumped at the chance.

            The OK Corral was one of Katy’s favorite clubs, if you could call it a club.  In the seventies and eighties, it had been a hole-in-the-wall country bar, but when Katy was in college, it had become a frequent hangout of the over 21 college crowd. 

The Corral, as they called it, had two pool tables and a jukebox that played classic rock.  The dance floor was a fifteen by fifteen step-down space that had a cement floor.  It had also previously had tables on it when the Corral had still served food.  The two bouncers and the bartender were friends of Katy’s from college because they were all wrestlers and, for about a year in college, Katy had dated one of their teammates.  The relationship had failed, but the friendships had persisted. 

What Katy loved about going to the Corral was that it was a sweater and jeans, make-up free zone.  There were those who got all dolled up to hang out there, but for Katy it had always been a comfort area.  She never had to impress anyone there, because she already knew most of the regulars. 

During her college years and the few years following, she had become quite the shark at pool.  She was looking forward to the night.  An added bonus was that her friendships with the staff meant that she would not need a hand stamp.

Katy spent little time getting ready for the evening.  She threw on her favorite sweater and her best fitting jeans, and she was ready to go.  When the girls arrived at her apartment, even Claudette was on time.  She still looked like a fashion model, but a fashion model in jeans and a blouse.  They always got to the Corral early, because they liked to shoot pool just the four of them before the crowds arrived.  They timed their arrival between seven and eight.

It was like old home night.  Tom and Rich were working the door, and Tom, a six-five, 280 pound, all muscle tough guy who looked like Mr. T on steroids, minus the mohawk, melted in giggles at the sight of her.  He gave her a bear hug that included lifting her up to his level and said, “How you doing, Angel?”  Angel was a nickname that she had gotten from the wrestling team, based on her straight-laced behavior.  She had never drank much or experimented with drugs.  She studied all the time, and kept her grades up.  So, “Angel” it was.

Rich was shorter than Tom, but built like a fireplug, strong and solid.  He’d always been more reserved that Tom, so he asked Katy simply “What’s up?” 

She gave Tom and Rich the update as to what was going on in her life, and heard about what was going on in theirs.  Both of them had “real jobs”, but they still worked at the Corral on weekends because it was a nice sideline income.  She was only half into the conversation, because it was the bartender that she most wanted to see. 

Mitchell had wrestled in the lightest weight class in college.  Mitch was bright and had a sweet disposition.  He and Katy had always had the best and deepest conversations.  She’d had a crush on him since she was dating his teammate, and he had one on her as well, but it was never to be. 

Mike was only four-eight.  Katy simply towered over him.  It never bothered her, but Mitch had a thing about dating girls taller than him.  It didn’t leave him the biggest pool of women to choose from, but he always seemed to have a girl on his arm.  It would be good to see him.

The girls made their way into the bar, and ordered drinks.  Mike was as happy to see her as Tom and Rich were, and possibly as happy to see her as she was to see him.  They chatted about everything from the weather to their opinions on the death penalty in about a ten-minute span, both speaking at the speed of light.  Then they laughed at how eager they both were to talk to each other, and talked about that for a moment. 

Next, they caught up.  Mike had a “real job” as well, but still worked Saturday nights at the Corral because of the extra dough.  He was engaged, and his fiancée worked nights at the local hospital, so he figured that he might as well be doing something worthwhile when she was at work.  They talked about the whole Alan thing, and they rattled on about life in general for a few minutes before Claudette summoned her to the pool table for their first game.  Tonight was going to be a great night.

They laughed and shot pool for most of the night, but on the really great songs, like Paradise by the Dashboard Lights, they raced like crazed children to the dance floor and danced themselves silly.  Most of the gang from last night was there, as well as some old college buddies that they didn’t see last night.  There was also an abundance of college kids there, and it looked like the Corral was still a Saturday night hot spot for them as well. 

Around ten, Katy and Lindsey were starting a game against their old nemeses, Chris and Jake.  They had shot pool against them thousands of times, and they had a nice 50/50 split on wins.  It was somewhat nostalgic, but Katy would have difficulty finishing the game. 

Just as she was lining up her break, he walked in.  It was the Adonis from last night.  He scanned the room just as he had the night before, and his gaze fell firmly upon her.  She met his gaze briefly before returning to the task at hand.  She broke, and dropped the 15-ball on the break, meaning that she and Lindsey would have stripes for this game.  Stripes were always lucky for her.

She lined a shot on the 10-ball, and as she shot, she saw him at the bar, getting a beer from Mike.  She missed the shot, but she liked watching him.  He glanced at her during his conversation with Mike.  Then Mike looked at her and smiled.  He seemed to be signaling her that she was in.  She was wondering if it was just wishful thinking, but then, just as Chris lined up his first shot, the handsome stranger walked right up to her.  He stepped to the table, smiled at her, and put his quarters next in line.  He was just there to play pool.

Katy knew how it worked.  If she lost this game, the handsome stranger would be playing against Chris and Jake.  But if she won, he would be playing against her, and she would get the chance to strike up a conversation with him.  Suddenly, there was a bit more riding on this than just next game. 

She looked at Lindsey and smiled.  The unspoken message passed quickly between the two friends.  Lindsey was up next and she did quite well.  Katy knew that she could count on her closest friend to make this work.

The game went to Katy and Lindsey, and they would be playing the handsome stranger and his friend in the next one.  She introduced herself. 

The handsome stranger had a very nice voice and he returned the introduction, “I’m Todd Mulcahy, and this is my friend Jesse Teeter.”  Todd Mulcahy?  With the way that he looked, she was expecting a name like Devon Thunderbrush or something equally romantic.  Todd Mulcahy?  It didn’t bode well that his name itself was a disappointment.  She liked her disappointment in men to come a later in the relationship.  “I'm a bit nervous; I understand that you ladies are pretty damned good.”  He smiled easily and warmly.

Katy laughed, “I don’t know about that, it’s been a while for me.  Haven’t played much lately.”

Todd responded quickly, “Really?  Why not?”

Because my last boyfriend was an ass.  I met him at a club playing pool, but then he would never go again once we got together.  “I don’t know.  I guess that I have just been busy,” she lied.

“So, how long has it been?”

“I guess a couple of years.”  Two years, seven months, two weeks, and three days, but thanks for asking.

The rest of the conversation was just basic chitchat, and it flowed easily.  He directed most of his statements toward Katy, which was a good sign.  He seemed very open and honest.  He talked a lot and liked to banter, which Katy also enjoyed.  They talked trash about pool, but the fact of the matter is that Katy and Lindsey got clocked.  He was outstanding at pool and probably played all of the time.

His expertise at the game told Katy that he had probably put his quarters on the table because he loved pool and not as a ruse to get to speak to her.  She started to give up all hope that Todd was interested in her, and asked Lindsey if she felt like hitting the dance floor.  Lindsey agreed, and they headed in that direction.  When they found their space on the tiny floor, Katy turned to see Todd standing next to her.  She smiled at him and asked, “What about your game?”

“Jesse can get another partner.  I didn’t want to miss the chance to show you my awesome moves.”  He started whirling around the dance floor, showing off his very sad moves.  He looked like a spastic on crack.  But he was fun, and Katy was enjoying his company.  They danced the rest of the night, Todd and the girls.  Most of the fun was that Todd knew that he couldn’t dance and didn’t seem to care.  He realized what most men don’t.

Dancing is an ancient mating ritual.  For women, looking attractive or sexy while dancing is important.  Women don’t expect that much from men.  For men, women feel that dancing is about having fun, not about looking good.  He climbed in her esteem, and it was enough to make up for his ultra-whitebread, boring name.

The night flew by, with the drinking and dancing, club conversation, and a few more rounds of pool.  Katy caught up with some more old friends, and Todd stayed within her line of sight all night, usually right by her side.  It would be easy for people to assume that they were there together; most people wouldn’t have guessed that they had just met.  For Todd, it must have been a real boon of information.  He got to hear tons of old stories about her past escapades and mischief.  And, at the end of the evening, he still seemed interested. 

“Closing time.  You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” Mike yelled at two am, as had been the tradition at the Corral for as long as Katy could remember.

She turned to Todd; “It was really nice meeting you.  Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“I’d like that,” he replied, and then made a face as though he were chastising himself.  “Actually, I’d like to give you a call sometime.  I’ve had a blast tonight, and I think that we should get together.”  The smooth-talker seemed to stumble over his words a bit, and Katy found it endearing.

“I’d like that, too.”  She said as she wrote down her number.  He then offered to walk her and the other girls out to their car, which was sweet.  Even sweeter, when they got to the car, he opened her door for her, and just before she got it, he said goodnight to her with a brief kiss on her forehead.  All in all, it had been the perfect night.

When Katy arrived home, she thought about the evening, and how much she had enjoyed Todd’s company.  She realized that, while he had learned volumes about her (specifically her past), she knew very little about him.  She didn’t even know what he did for a living, or where he had gone to college, or if he had gone to college. 

She had met a few of his friends tonight, and they were fun people who seemed like nice guys, but she didn’t really know much about them either.  Todd instantly changed from the handsome stranger into the mysterious stranger.

He seemed very bright and deep.  Some of their conversations went well beyond superficial, which she found quite promising.  She liked her men smart.  But she had learned nothing of his dating history or his life history, either.  The mystery made him more alluring, and Katy enjoyed thinking about it.

His hands were not weathered, so she felt it unlikely that he did any kind of job working with them.  That ruled out all forms of manual labor, including ranching or farming.  So much for her cowboy fantasy. 

His attire on both nights was respectable, neat, and fit well, without being even a bit ostentatious, so Katy ruled out a career in the arts.  His attire combined with his intellect made her believe that he must be in some form of professional position.  She knew that he was probably not a doctor or a lawyer, as members of both professions typically made that known during conversation. 

Still, she could see him in some form of science position, perhaps research, or computer technology.  She enjoyed imagining him as some form of engineer.  While she was bright, engineering had always eluded her.  Because of this, while most women thought of engineers as serious nerds, Katy felt that the career had a mystique to it.

Katy caught herself.  She knew what she was doing.  While it was entertaining and fun to imagine what Todd might be like, it also set her up for disappointment as well as set him up for failure.  She knew that it was possible that he would just have some boring career that would lack all mystique and allure.  There was nothing wrong with that.  As long as she didn’t get her hopes up too high and make it impossible for him to meet her expectations. 

She decided to believe that he was a ballet dancer until she knew otherwise.  With his sad moves on the dance floor, Katy knew that it was unlikely.  Even so, she was not a lover of ballet.  If she kept him a ballet dancer, she would never be disappointed.

While she slept, Katy dreamt of Todd.  In her dreams, he was dancing the “Nutcracker Suite”.

Chapter Three

Where Saturday had been a lazy day, followed by an exciting night, and Sunday had been restful, Monday had been a taxing day.  Well, maybe taxing wasn’t the right word.  Monday had been an absolutely soul-sucking day. 

It had started out just fine.  It had the normal array of pap smears and annual exams.  In the morning, Katy had even had two mothers-to-be that were excited by the prospect, and she had been able to share in their joy. 

After lunch, the worm had turned.  It started with her having to give the news of “not pregnant” to a woman who had been actively trying for over two years.  Katy had the distinct displeasure of referring her and her husband to a fertility specialist.  While there was nothing wrong with using fertility treatments, Katy found that most patients were discouraged and disappointed to find that they would not be able to conceive “the natural way”.  Katy often spent her time counseling patients on the fact that nothing was more natural than having a baby, no matter how you got there.  The young woman was still disappointed.

Katy’s next appointment was with a thirties-aged couple who had been trying for quite sometime to have a child.  Their attempts had been futile, as they had recurrent miscarriages.  This case was difficult, and Katy had experienced the couple’s pain with them too many times.  During this visit, Katy had to tell the couple that their current pregnancy would terminate, as the baby had no heartbeat.  It was hard to watch, as Katy had shared their excitement just two weeks earlier when the baby had a heartbeat for the first time.  It was far more difficult a the couple to accept the loss of a heartbeat once found.

Katy had expected her day to get better, but her last appointment of the day was with a 15-year-old girl who had a sexually transmitted disease.  The girl had been seeing Katy ever since her first period three years ago.  Her only sexual partner had been her boyfriend of over three years, her first love.  When they had decided to have sex for the first time a year ago, the girl had believed him when he told her that she was the first. 

The STD meant that either she was not his first, or that he had cheated on her.  Both prospects were devastating for the girl.  If he had not cheated on her during their three-year relationship, that meant that he was sexually active before the age of twelve, and that he had lied to the her.  That was a disconcerting concept for both Katy and her patient. 

If he had not been sexually active before their relationship, than he had cheated.  This was disconcerting as well.  Either prospect was overwhelming for the patient.  Katy was filled despair over the thought that these were very adult problems for a child to deal with.  Her dismay over the pain of her patients was mind-numbing and soul-sucking.

When Katy arrived home, she just wanted to relax and put up her feet.  When she walked into her small but well-appropriated kitchen, she slumped in a chair at the table and was overcome.  She stared at a bottle of Stoli left behind by Alan when he moved out and was actually tempted.  She had never been much of a drinker, but whenever she had days like this, she stared at the bottle. 

It was always tempting, but she never succumbed and today would no different.  Often, it improved her mood just to know that the option was there, and that she was choosing not to take it.  Today was such a day.

After her therapy session with Dr. Stoli, Katy moved into the living room, with a cup of hot chocolate.  Now, that was true therapy.  She was going to click on the boob tube, sit in her lazy boy, and watch some pabulum shows that would not take any mental effort on her part.  When she sat down, she glanced at her answering machine, which was on the table next to her chair.  It was flashing two messages. 

She felt a flash of excitement, not because she had messages, that happened all of the time, but because one of those messages might be from Todd.  She hit the play button.

The first message was from her mother.  Just calling to chat.  Katy had gone first to church and then to lunch with her mother yesterday and they had had a great conversation.  Her mother had a sixth sense when it came to Katy, and was just calling to “see how her day went”.  Katy was always amazed at her mother’s impeccable timing.  She would return the call as soon as she got the second message.  She needed to vent about her day.

The second message was from Randy.  He was a guy that she had dated for a while before she met Alan.  He was a nice enough guy, but they had never really connected beyond a sexual level.  His message said that he was just thinking about her and wondering how she was doing.  He stated that he would love to get together sometime, just to catch up. 

Katy could read between the lines.  “Just thinking about you” actually meant One of our mutual friends saw you out over the weekend and told me that you and Alan broke up.  “Would love to get together and catch up” meant I was hoping that now that you are single again, you might be just desperate enough for a night of non-committal meaningless sex.  Randy was as transparent as Saran Wrap and just about as bright.  That was a call that she would not return.

After Monday’s drama, Tuesday’s routine was almost mundane to Katy. She was glad that it was Tuesday, as she was too tired to cook.  Tuesday nights were special for Katy and her friends.  Their Tuesday night “Girl’s Night Out” was one of the few traditions that they were able to maintain throughout her relationship with Alan.  They met every Tuesday evening at 6:00 at The Dock, a local seafood restaurant.  They loved going there whenever they could get their early, because The Dock’s happy hour special was a free pound of steamed shrimp with each pitcher.  They had always enjoyed sitting around chatting while peeling shrimp.  Tonight was no different.

“Man, I am glad that you’re able to go out with us on weekends again.  Saturday was one seriously sick blast.”  Claudette had a unique flair for the language.  At times, she would even come out with such ancient words as “groovy” and “dude,” but they always sounded cool and appropriate coming from her.

Katy responded, “Yeah, I had a great time.”  She meant it, she’d had a great time, but the tone of her voice did not reflect that fact.

Jasmine laughed, “Then why do you sound like you spent the night in a torture chamber?”

“No, I did.  I had fun.  It’s just…” Katy stopped.  She knew that she was going to sound pathetic.

Lindsey smiled, and read Katy’s mind out loud, “Haven’t heard from Todd yet, eh?”

“Nope, I thought he’d call.  And could you please get out of my head?  There’s only room for one of us in there.”

All three of the others laughed and said, almost in unison, “Four-day rule.”

“What?”

Jasmine was amused, and spoke to Katy as though she were a naïve little child, “Wow, you have been out of the dating scene for a while.  You don’t remember the four-day rule?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar.”

Jasmine clarified, “You know, it’s where the guy can’t call you during the first three days after getting your number.  He has to wait until the fourth day.  The four-day rule.”

“But why?”  Katy recognized the rule now, and remembered time spent waiting for a call that never came before the fourth day.  She thought that it was silly then, and she thought that it was silly now.

Lindsey expanded on the idea, “Because, if they call on the first day, they think that it implies desperation.  If they call on the second, it implies too much eagerness on their part.  If they call on the third day, it implies serious interest.  They have to wait until the fourth day so that they can seem appropriately cavalier.”

“It allows them to delude themselves into thinking that they are in control,” Claudette was the mistress of the dating game.  She knew all of the tricks.

Katy shook her head, “I just don’t get it.  Where do guys get this stuff?”

Claudette pounced, “In the Mandbook.”

“What the hell is the Mandbook?”

Claudette took a gravely serious tone, like she was telling a ghost story around a campfire, “The Mandbook is the magical handbook passed down from father to son ever since the days when the first man took a chisel to a stone tablet.  It is the guide to being a man, written by men for men.”  The other girls laughed, encouraging Claudette to continue, “No person without a Y-chromosome has ever laid eyes on this book, but it is believed to be the sacred document that contains all of the secrets of being a man.  It contains such secrets as the notion that the power of a car’s engine is the true measure of manhood.  It explains that no man should ever have to put a toilet seat up, but should he choose to do so, he should never put it back down.  And it describes in depth the concept of the four-day rule.”

“So, since I gave him my number on Saturday, I should expect a call tomorrow night?”

“Hopefully.”

“Hopefully?”

“Yeah, hopefully,” Claudette smiled.  “If he calls on day four, then it tells us that he is interested, but he is attempting to appear cavalier.  But if he waits to call a girl until day five, it means that he only had a mild interest but figures he might as well give her a try.”

“What if he waits until day six?”

Claudette frowned, “Well, that’s worse than him not calling at all.  A day six call means that he called someone else on day four, but that date fell through.  That makes the poor day six girl a stand-in date.  It makes him one of those guys that think that any date is better than no date at all.”

“Oh, man.  Please don’t let me be a day six.”

 Lindsey was quick to comfort her, “Don’t worry, you won’t be.  He was obviously interested.  There’s no way that you’re a day six.  No guy gives that delicate kiss on the forehead to a day six.”

Katy sighed, “I hope you’re right.”

The rest of the dinner was spent laughing and recounting old tales of glory, as well as venting about their jobs.  Lindsey had recently started dating a local lawyer, and was sharing some of her relationship news, as well as some funny stories about how weird it was to get in an argument with a lawyer.  All in all, it was just like old times.

When Katy arrived home, she was feeling pretty up.  Her friends always had that effect on her.  The evening had been fun, and the gang had gotten her mind off of Todd for a while.  She decided to sit up and read for a while, so she climbed into her comfy chair with a Patricia Cornwell novel.  She loved crime fiction. 

As Katy reached for the light switch, she noticed that she had a message.  She rolled her eyes and pressed the play button, expecting another call from Randy.  She was pleasantly surprised.

“Hi, Katy.  This is Todd… Mulcahy, Todd Mulcahy… We met Saturday night… Listen, I was planning on calling you tomorrow, but I know how busy you are, and I wanted to catch you before you firmed up your weekend plans.  I thought that maybe we could do something Friday night… If you’re free...  Maybe dinner, or just coffee.  I don’t know.  Anyway, give me a call when you get a chance.”  Then Todd left his number.

Katy was excited just at the sound of Todd’s voice.  Think, Katy, think.  He called on day three.  What did a day three call mean?  Serious interest.  Was that it?  She was almost sure.  Should she call him right back?  Maybe she should wait a day and call him tomorrow, but she really wanted to call him now.  Would that imply desperation on her part? 

God, how she wished that there was such a thing as a Womandbook.  Katy knew that she had the next best thing at her disposal.  She called Claudette.

The call quickly clarified her situation.  She had been correct; a day three call implied serious interest.  Claudette also explained to her that her instincts were right: She needed to fight the urge to call him right back.  She should wait to call him until tomorrow evening.  She didn’t want to seem desperate or over-eager.  She fought the urge, but Katy had the feeling that the next twenty-four hours would seem like an eternity.

Katy was right.  The twenty-four hours between Todd’s call and her return call dragged on forever.  It seemed like time was standing still, or like she had fallen into some parallel universe where minutes lasted as long as hours on earth. 

As she prepared to call Todd, she reviewed all of the information that Claudette had given her on the phone.  She would act casual and keep the conversation brief.  Guys aren’t into women who ramble.  Also, she should try to sound interested without seeming eager.  Katy had no idea how to accomplish that feat, but it was worth a try.  The most important thing, according to Claudette, was to make it a coffee date.  It was more casual and non-committal than dinner.  Claudette said that gave coffee three advantages.

The first advantage of coffee over dinner was that it was a good time to screen the man before committing the time that it would take to eat a full meal.  The second was that it kept the pressure off, because it was more of a “get-together” than a “date”.  The third and most important advantage was that it gave you plausible deniability.  That meant that if anyone ever asked “Hey, didn’t you date that guy?” you could respond with, “No, I just met him for coffee once.”

Katy felt ready.  She made the call, and Todd answered on the third ring.  Katy had no idea if that was significant.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Todd.  This is Katy James returning your call.”  She was doing a great job of keeping it casual.

“Oh, great!”  Todd sounded excited, “I was wondering if you would like to go out for coffee Friday evening?”

“Well, I am not really a coffee drinker,” Katy was caught up in the heady excitement and anxiety of making this call, “But I wouldn’t mind grabbing some dinner.”

“Dinner?”

Great, Katy thought, That’s what you get for throwing caution to the wind.  Now you’ve scared him off.  “Yeah, dinner.”  There was no going back now, she had already committed herself.  It was hard to back away from something like that.

“Sounds great,” Todd replied quickly, “Can I pick you up around 7:30?”

Oh, my God, yes, Katy thought.  What she said was, “Sure.  Any idea where we might be going?”  Translation:  Should I dress casual, or formal, or something in between?

“Do you like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t?”  In Katy’s opinion, Todd had made a great choice.  First, she loved pizza.  Second, it made their first date still a dinner, but pizza was less committal than a formal dinner.  It was more committal than coffee, less committal than a four-star restaurant.  And a pizza dinner had the added bonus of allowing Katy to dress comfortably, something that Katy was grateful for.

The next two days were far less stressful for Katy.  She no longer had to be nervous, because the will he or won’t he component of her dating situation had been resolved.  Todd had called and asked her out.  So her nervousness had subsided.  Not that she wasn’t excited, she was.  Knowing that he was interested allowed her to just relax and enjoy looking forward to their date.

Work was better as well.  Thursday had been routine, but Friday was unbelievably busy for Katy.  One of their patients went into labor, so the doctor was out of the office for most of the day.  This meant that Katy had to provide care not only to her scheduled patients, but also to all of his patients while he was at the hospital as well. 

This left her doing twice her normal workload and she had little time to dwell on her plans for the evening.  That was a good thing; she didn’t have time to obsess over every detail.  It also meant that she didn’t get home until 6:30 p.m., when she usually arrived home around 5:15 p.m.  That was not such a good thing.  It left her plenty of time to get ready, since it was a casual evening, but if they had opted for something more formal, Katy wouldn’t have had the time to dress.  Katy was just thankful that Todd hadn’t wanted anything more formal.

Katy had decided on jeans and a green chenille sweater for the evening.  The sweater was just fancy enough to dress up the jeans a bit, but what she really loved about the sweater was that it subtly accentuated her ample breasts.  She felt the sweater very flattering. 

She had decided to do her hair in a simple braid, as it was neat but casual and allowed her to avoid having to blow her hair dry, thus cutting several minutes out of her preparations.  Because of this, Katy was showered, dressed, and ready to go around 7:00, so she decided to sit and relax in her recliner while she waited for Todd.  A little downtime was never a bad thing.  She wanted the time to regenerate her energy before Todd arrived.

While she relaxed, she reflected on relationships in general.  She had always felt that this early part of the relationship was the best part.  The days of excitement when every little detail still had great significance.  She loved the uncertainty, and the adrenaline rush associated with it.  There was something so unique about the period, when a simple kiss on the forehead could be so wrought with meaning and could ignite such passion in the recipient.  Mostly, she loved the mystery and mystique of the unknown. 

Katy had always enjoyed intellectual stimulation, and during this phase, each person on the date had a puzzle ready to solve sitting right across the table from him or her.  So much of this phase was spent learning about the other person.  The combination of learning and romance was extremely stimulating for Katy, both intellectually and physically.

The doorbell rang.

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Christy Parker is the author of three blogs:  Ruminations from and Unkempt Mind,  Learn to Crochet - In Minutes a Day,  and You Be the Editor.

For comments, questions, notes or suggestions; Mrs. Parker can be reached in the blog specific forums on the product information pages listed above or via email at unkemptruminations@comcast.net.