Marcus waited for his son after school everyday, leaning against the side of the detached gymnasium, bored by this aspect of single fatherhood. No one had ever told him that there would be so much driving, hurrying, waiting, standing, and driving some more. But it was all worth it to get the extra time with his son, and since his schedule was more flexible than his ex-wife's, he was glad to help out with the chauffeur duties. Besides, while he waited for his son, he could check out the moms.
He laughed to himself at the idea; he never would have thought he'd one day look forward to being able to scope out women over thirty. He'd never been the scoping type, for one thing, but he'd also never thought much about moms being sexy until he became a parent himself. As long as he didn't think about his own mother, he figured he'd be fine. Turning, he saw her again. She was here everyday and everyday he caught her watching him while he watched Alicia, the pretty mom with the tight pants and low cut tops. Who wouldn't watch a woman like that? Usually he brushed off her glances and the subtle scowl that frequently appeared across her face, but yesterday, yesterday, he'd watched her walk away and admired the slight sway of her hips, the roundness of her ass as she leaned into her car. How had he not noticed before?
He smiled at her when their eyes met, and she smiled, very slightly, back. She looked surprised, as if she hadn't expected to see him. Or as if she hadn't expected him to see her, he realized. He glanced at his watch, and when he saw that he had a few minutes left before the bell signaled the end of the day, he walked over to her. If nothing else, he hoped he could find out why she seemed to dislike him so much without even knowing him.
* * *
I watched him walk over, his eyes on my face the whole way. For weeks, I'd found myself watching him as he watched Alicia, the gorgeous mom of one of my oldest son's friends. With her perfect blond coif and her manicured nails and her flawless skin, undoubtedly the result of an hour spent applying makeup, she was everything that I was not. My idea of looking nice involved wearing clothes that matched and weren't completely covered in either food stains from the kids or paint stains from my work, and I didn't even own any makeup. Alicia and I were different in other, more important ways as well; she was self-absorbed and more concerned with how she looked than who she was. Admittedly, I was attracted to him, but his obvious interest in Alicia bothered me because I suspected it was a kind of sign of his shallowness. Watching him walk over that day, I'd have been nervous by his approach if I had thought it meant anything, but I simply suspected he must need something, have some kind of question about a teacher or little league. Those were the normal questions I got from men, the mom who knows type questions. He stopped a few feet away from where I stood with my youngest kids, and looked down first to say hi to them as they tried to hide behind my legs.
I laughed. "They're shy, at least at first."
"I can relate," he said. "I've been known to be a little shy myself sometimes. Besides, who wouldn't want to hang onto a pretty woman's leg?"
I laughed again. "Sophie," I said, holding my hand out to him.
"Marcus," he shook my hand in his, his grip stronger than most, and I smiled. I hated men who felt like they had to be careful shaking my hand simply because I'm a woman.
"So, Sophie, I see you here everyday, and I thought I should finally say hi."
"Well, hi then. We don't talk much around here, do we?" I asked, nodding toward the other parents waiting for their kids, most of them standing alone, avoiding eye contact with one another.
"No, I guess we don't. I've only just started pick up duty this year, since the divorce."
"I'm sorry to hear it. About the divorce, I mean. I've been through it myself, so I can sympathize."
"It was for the best, and we're all much happier now."
"Me too. Best thing I could have done, besides have my kids," I said patting the heads of the two still holding my legs.
He smiled at me, and then seeing his son walking toward him, turned and said, "See you tomorrow then, Sophie" and walked away. I watched him leave, wondering. He hadn't asked any mom-type questions at all.
* * *
Over the next few days Marcus made a habit of spending a few minutes chatting with Sophie while they waited for their kids; by Friday, he was intrigued enough to want to know her better. He found her attractive, though he had to admit she wasn't conventionally beautiful; in fact, there wasn't much remarkable about her, and she had the body of a woman who had obviously had children. Despite that, there was something about her that got to him. And her attitude, her lack of self-consciousness, her sense of self were all very appealing, especially after being married to someone who had spent so much of her time uncertain of herself.
"I know it's last minute, and I'm sure you have plans, but I've just found out I have the weekend free. Trevor will be with his mom all weekend, so I was wondering if you'd want to get together. Maybe have dinner, see movie or something?"
She looked surprised, and he briefly wondered why. "I have plans tomorrow, but I'm free tonight."
"Tonight works for me," he told her smiling. He pulled out his blackberry and asked, "Where should I pick you up?"
Looking a bit a little amused, she gave him her address. "I'll see you at 7," he told her, as he greeted his son and made his way to his car.
* * *
I was amused, and intrigued, as I dressed for the evening. His sudden interest in talking to me had been surprise enough, but his asking me out on a date had definitely been unexpected. After watching him eye Alicia for weeks, I had assumed his type of woman was the superficial, supermodel type. Something I definitely was not. I knew what I had to offer a partner, but I become very used to no one else being able to see it. I dated plenty, but I always "met" the men online first where they had a chance to get to know me before the date; it had been a long, long time since it had happened the other way around. Before kids, I realized.
I brushed out my shoulder length brown hair and opted to leave it loose for the night; I pulled a knee length black dress over my head- I loved that dress, loved the way the slit was higher in the front exposing so much of my legs, loved the way the material hugged my hips, and even loved that wearing anything underneath it was impossible. Knowing I was naked under the dress gave me a little thrill of power, a secret knowledge of my sexuality. I buckled the ankle straps of my black heels and then fastened the black beaded necklace around my neck. There, perfect, I thought.
And just in time, I laughed, as the doorbell rang and I made my way to the door. Opening it, I saw Marcus holding a bouquet of flowers bursting with so much color that my hand itched to paint them. Instead, I took them from him and smiled, "Thank you. Come on in."
"You look gorgeous," he told me, his eyes moved down the length of my dress and then back again, lingering a second too long on the low neckline and my exposed cleavage.
I turned, and he followed me into my living room, looking around at my overstuffed, and very comfortable, furniture. I watched him from the kitchen where I put the flowers in water. I saw his eyes flicker over the corner of toys, and then around the room again. The moment he saw the paintings, he stilled, and I smiled, knowing what was coming.
"I've never seen anything like this. Where did you find them?"
"Actually, I painted them."
"You..." he trailed off, looking again at the paintings, looking for a flaw or a sign of amateur work.
"I'm actually a painter, Marcus. That's how I make my living."
"Oh! I had assumed..."
"That I was only a mom."
He laughed, uncomfortably. "Well, you're never really only a mom, or a dad, are you?"
"No."
"But you never said..."
