In Flux - Cover

In Flux

Copyright© 2017 by TonyV1950

Chapter 6

For the next couple of days Mike couldn’t get his dinner with Connie out of his mind. He wasn’t sure if her talk about men preying on divorcees was just a rant, as she said, or a warning to him that he might be walking on unwelcoming ground. He questioned his own motives and came up with no good answers. He told himself he’d found her appealing before he’d known she was single. All finding out she was divorced did was open the door for him to ask her out, even then he’d mentioned the possibility she was going with somebody.

Then there was the matter of his calling her again. He wasn’t sure what to do under the circumstances. If he waited too long it could appear like he was just somebody on the make and he’d been scared off when he found out she wasn’t all that easy. On the other hand, he didn’t want to look too anxious, that would probably make him look like he fell into one of the predatory groups she’d mentioned and was trying to close in for the kill. He seemed to be in a no win situation. In the end it was Connie herself that solved his little paranoid dilemma.

When the phone rang one evening he assumed if it had nothing to do with work that it must be a telemarketer. It seemed somebody was always trying to sell him something. So, it was a surprise when he pick up the receiver and heard Connie’s voice.

“Hello, Mike, it’s Connie Friess.”

“Connie, hi! What’s up?”

“I was just wondering, are you going to be free any evening this week?”

“Yeah, any night except Thursday. Why, something going on?”

“Kind of, I thought perhaps you’d like to come over for dinner, I’m in the mood to cook.”

“Yeah, of course, you pick the night.”

“How about Wednesday, around six?”

“I’ll be there, no problem.”

After she hung up, he sat and thought about it. If she invited him to her apartment for dinner then perhaps their date hadn’t been the debacle he’d thought it was. On the other hand, he thought there was a possibility she was just trying to make up for her rant that night. Then he decided that once again he was over thinking it all. He decided to take the invitation at face value and not over analyze it. He wondered when he’d developed this habit of seeing the worst case scenario in these matters. All he knew was it was getting very annoying. Either way, he was glad she’d called.

Even though he promised himself that he wouldn’t question her motives, he approached Connie’s door with a certain amount of trepidation. He couldn’t help but think of their last meeting and wonder if he was in for another lecture or, even worse, if this was her way of making up for any embarrassment she may have caused. The later would have made him feel pitiful. Her welcoming smile when she opened the door, however, set his mind at ease.

“Mike, right on time, come in,” she gestured hospitably. “Dinner’s almost ready; it just needs a few more minutes. Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure, would you happen to have a beer handy by chance?”

“I do, I kind of figured that’s what you’d want so I made sure I had a six-pack handy.”

“You didn’t have to do anything special on my account, I’m glad you did, but you didn’t have to.” He paused for a second, realizing he was rambling. “But as long as you did, a beer would be great.”

The apartment was heady with the aroma of cooking food, this along with her warm greeting put any qualms he had to rest. As he followed her into the kitchen area he was once again, just glad to be with her. He sat down at the table and watched as she took a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, opened it, and set it on the table in front of him.

“Thanks, is there anything I can do to help?”

“No,” she turned to the stove, “all that’s left to do is the potatoes, once I fry them we can eat, everything else is ready.”

“I’m not sure what it is, but something sure smells good.”

“Roasted chicken breasts,” she looked over her shoulder at him. “They’re filled with mushroom and bacon stuffing, hope you like them.”

“I’m sure I will, what’s not to like?”

She dumped a bowl of cubed potatoes into a skillet and stepped back as a cloud of steam rose up. Once the potatoes began to sizzle, she began tossing them with a spatula while adding some raw onions. He found the combined aromas intoxicating. The whole kitchen had comfortable homey feeling that he hadn’t experienced in years. He realized that this is what had been missing from his marriage, one of the things Joanie had been incapable of providing; the feeling of a home.

“You seem to be really at home in the kitchen.”

“I love to cook, but it’s a lot of work when you’re just doing it for yourself. It’s better when you’ve got someone to share it with. I seldom do anymore and I miss it.”

One item at a time, she began putting the food on the table; a platter with the chicken breasts, one bowl with red cabbage, another bowl with the potatoes and onions, and a filled gravy boat. After helping himself, he watched as she spooned the gravy over her chicken and on the potatoes. He followed her lead and did the same. Slicing into the chicken breast, now dripping with the rich heavy gravy, he placed it into his mouth, savoring the flavor. Swallowing it, he looked at her.

“If this is a sample of what you like to cook, you can invite me over anytime. Trust me, I’ll always be available, this is good.”

“Thanks,” she looked at him smiling, “I wasn’t sure this would be 100% to your taste.”

“Well, I like it. Don’t believe I’ve ever had any type of stuffing with bacon in it, it’s a nice touch.”

He continued to eat rather enthusiastically, not only was the food good, but he was overwhelmed by the feeling of coziness he was experiencing. It was difficult for him to believe that on the walk over he had been uncertain if he was really welcome, or whether she had merely felt obligated to pay him back for buying her dinner. Now, he couldn’t imagine her as being anything but genuinely hospitable. Even her lecture about men trying to take advantage of divorcees faded into the background. He wasn’t sure what had prompted it, but he was sure that she’d been talking to him and not about him. As they finished eating, he couldn’t help but think about how natural it felt for him to be around her.

“Very nice,” he said setting his fork down. “I wasn’t kidding when I said if this is the kind of thing you serve, any time you want company, just call me.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that, I was really hoping you’d like it. Now, care for an after dinner drink?”

“Wouldn’t say no,” he attempted to sound casual, but was actually elated. He’d been hoping she’d offer some sort of invitation, some indication she saw him as more than a casual acquaintance. “But only if you’ll let me stay long enough to help you with the dishes.”

She looked at him, then at the pots and pans, some in the sink others still on the stove, then back at him.

“That’s not really necessary, you’re a guest, but if you really want to, I’m not one to refuse help. But, let’s have the drinks first. I’m having a sherry, care to join me or do you want to stick with beer?”

“Sherry sounds good, but I think I should stay with beer, I’m not too big on mixing my drinks.”

Connie got up and retrieved another beer from the refrigerator then pulled a bottle of sherry from an upper cabinet. Pouring herself a glass she picked up both drinks and gestured towards the living area.

“Let’s go into the other room.”

He thought it was funny that she referred to the far corner of the apartment as “the other room”, but he said nothing and quietly followed her. She set his beer down on the end table alongside the sofa. He was delighted when he realized she was going to join him on the couch, then disappointed when she sat down at the far end. However, once she sat down, she tucked one leg underneath herself and turned towards him, one arm on the back of the sofa the other holding the glass of sherry, he was once again elated. He was not an expert on body language, but this seemed to be an open and welcoming posture.

“Well, you know,” she said softly, “we never really did get to learn much about each other the other night. I thought tonight we could talk a little more.”

“Sounds good, I guess we did get a bit sidetracked at the restaurant.”

“Yeah, thanks to my little spiel. It occurred to me afterwards that complaining about men taking advantage of divorced women isn’t the best topic of conversation to use on a first date.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, it really didn’t bother me.” He was lying of course, but the fact that she’d said that made him feel good. “Anything in particular you’d like to know?”

“Just curious, why did you get divorced, if you don’t mind telling?”

“Simple,” he decided to be completely honest with her, “I caught my wife cheating on me. Caught her dead to rights and told her it was over. We talked about it and decided it was for the best. Neither of us had been truly happy for a long time. We’d just never admitted before.”

When he looked at her he saw a small, knowing, sympathetic smile on her lips. It was a curious type of smile and he wondered what was behind it.

“How long were you married?”

“Eleven years.”

“And it ended just like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much, it was all fairly amicable.” Then he added, “Of course, first I had to threaten to drag her into court and publicly air her little indiscretion, but after that she saw things my way. She didn’t want her family and friends to know what had gone on. She agreed to go along with me as long as we filed under irreconcilable differences.”

“A little bit of blackmail goes a long way sometimes,” she said, giving him a friendly wink.

“Yeah, I never thought of it that way,” he grinned, “but it did grease the skids a bit. Anyhow, that’s my tale of woe, now what’s yours?”

“My ex is a doctor.”

“Really? That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t do me any good. I met him when he was still in school. I thought we were in love, we moved in together. I worked and took care of the household bills like a damned fool. After a couple of years, I found out he was cheating on me. Unlike you, I didn’t call it quits. I threatened to, but he claimed it was just a onetime thing, that he’d been tired and drinking and it just happened. He swore he loved me and begged for another chance, even offered to marry me. I accepted, I believed him, I really thought he meant it. Now I know he was just securing his meal ticket.”

“So, he continued to run around on you?”

“Probably, but if he did he was pretty discrete about it, because I didn’t have a clue. But after he finished his internship he suddenly hooked up with a little nurse he’d met. I have to admit, she was gorgeous, so I became excess baggage.”

He thought of his own situation; Joanie had cheated and gotten caught, but he had been the one who ended the marriage. In his situation it had been a case of betrayal of trust, Connie’s had been one of rejection. He could not imagine what that had felt like; it had to have been much more traumatic.

“Aw, Christ, that’s cold.” It was the only response he could come up with.

“Yes,” she agreed, “it was, but it’s a common thing in the medical profession. Not all doctors do it, but it isn’t all that unusual; a young guy suddenly gains some prestige, and all kinds of pretty young things come flocking around, paying attention to them, ones who wouldn’t have noticed them before they got that MD after their names. It’s hard to resist, I guess. All I know is there are enough of us first wives and girlfriends around to form a club.”

“Yeah, but still, it just doesn’t seem right.” Then he paused briefly, “Although, I guess I shouldn’t talk; my ex-wife qualified as a trophy wife. I have to say, I didn’t see anything beyond her looks. Still, I didn’t throw anybody over to be with her.”

“Would you have?” she asked.

“I don’t know, I’d like to say no, but I honestly don’t know. At that age, I might have.”

“That’s the problem,” she downed her sherry, “I can’t say that if I was young and pretty I wouldn’t chase after a young doctor or lawyer if I had the chance and not worry about whether he was involved with someone. So, as hurt and disappointed as I was, I still can’t hate them.”

“No, I can’t say I hate my ex either. But if it’s any consolation, being married to a prom queen isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, the good doctor may be regretting his choice.”

Suddenly he couldn’t suppress a slight laugh, he shook his head slowly. Connie looked at him curiously.

“Well something struck you as funny, care to share it with me? I can always use a laugh.”

“Simple,” he smiled, “I’ve always been led to believe marrying a doctor is a common fantasy for a lot of women and I know for a fact a lot of guys would give their right arms to marry a girl who looked like my ex. So, you married a doctor and I married a stunning beauty and here we sit. A fat lot of good living the dream did us.”

“There are worse places we could be, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yeah, of course, I just meant dreams aren’t always what you’d expect. What’s that old cliché, be careful what you wish for, you just might get it? I’d say we’re living proof of that.”

“Well, the way I see it is, it’s not what you wish for as much as who you’re wishing for it with that’s the problem.”

“True enough, but this conversation is getting way too philosophical. Maybe it’s time we did the dishes before we forget? That’ll give me some time to think up an answer.”

Connie smiled and nodded her head, then wordlessly got up and headed towards the kitchen. Mike got up and followed her. Once there he began helping her clear off the table.

“So Mike, I’ll wash and you dry, how’s that sound?”

“It’s up to you, but it might be better if I washed and you dried. You know where everything goes so you could put them away as we go.”

“Good point, I thought most guys would rather dry though.”

“Washing never bothered me, gets the dirt from under my fingernails, kind of multi-tasking.”

Connie laughed slightly, then picked up a dishtowel. “Well start washing then, it’s all yours.”

Mike nodded, then turned the hot water on, filling the sink basin. As he added the liquid soap, in his mind he couldn’t help thinking about Connie and her experience; it must have been shocking to be traded in for a newer, or in this case younger, model. He shut off the water and slipped a stack of dishes in. Then he decided he had to say something.

“Look, I don’t want to keep bringing this up, but did your husband really leave you just because somebody younger took an interest in him? I’m sorry, but I can’t get that thought out of my mind.”

“Yes, yes he did. Actually, it gets worse.”

“Really? I don’t see how.” He looked at her and saw a tight lipped, pensive expression on her face. He thought he’d gone too far, that he was intruding into her private life. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore; it’s really none of my business.”

“No, it’s all right; I’m just trying to figure out how to explain it.” She slowly shook her head before continuing. “Look, if you’d asked me when I was younger what I wanted for my life, what would make me happy, I’d have said a nice home, a good husband, and kids. I wanted to have children. The mothering instinct is strong in me. But it turns out I can’t have children.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No, it’s all right, it’s life, it happens to a small percentage of us and I’m one of the unlucky ones, that’s all. The problem is my husband threw that back at me as a reason to get divorced.”

“God damn,” flabbergasted, he groped in his mind for something to say, all he came up with was, “you’re kidding, I mean, how, why?”

“It seems like he suddenly decided that he always wanted children too, and since I couldn’t get pregnant, what was the point of being married? It was all that simple.”

“How many kids does he have now?”

“None,” she had a sad smirk on her face.

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