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So, I come home from work and the party's in full swing. Dan and Amanda have a bunch of their old high school friends over: Eric, Brent, Joann, Kurt, Linda, and Mia, and some others I'm introduced to but whose names I quickly forget. I feel a little put out but remind myself I am a guest living at their house and I should just roll with it. I'm tired and I was looking forward to hitting the sack and getting some much needed sleep, but Mia's here and I decide to take one for the team. You see, Amanda has been playing matchmaker and trying to get us together for the past few weeks and I've been putting her off, but now it seems she's taking a more direct approach. I excuse myself and go upstairs to change out of my chef's uniform and take a quick shower and shave. Spending nine hours in a kitchen on a busy Saturday night has a way of permeating my clothes, my hair, and even my skin with all sorts of cooking odors.
As I clean up I find myself eager and, frankly, a little nervous to talk to Mia. I mean, I've known her for a couple of years but I've never really talked to her, since I was married and she was living with Steve. What can I tell you about her? She's short, about 5'2", petite, has nice curves about her hips and chest, cute face, wavy short brown hair, dark brown eyes and an incredible smile, the kind of smile that touches her entire face. And she has a personality that can brighten any room. She's always been friendly towards me but, truth is, she's friendly to everyone. I don't want you to take that the wrong way; what I mean is, she's a nice person and she's nice to me. In other words, she's nothing like Rachel.
I see the grimace on my face reflected in the mirror at this thought. It's been about a year but ever since I got back I've been thinking of her constantly. I guess being back in Neuwunder has brought all of the old wounds to the surface. It would be nice to be able to go at least a few hours without thinking about her. I don't know why I get so down on myself when I think of Rachel; maybe it's that I can't get past the fact someone who once loved me doesn't anymore. I had this foolish idea that love was supposed to last forever, but Rachel killed that notion when she tore my heart out. I contemplate succumbing to self-pity and crawling into bed to wallow in my misery, but then, I don't know what, if anything, Amanda has told Mia about tonight and I don't want to start off on the wrong foot. I swallow my pain and pull on jeans and a clean shirt before heading downstairs to fish a beer out of the fridge.
I survey the living room full of thirty-some year olds and right away I notice the women are all on one side of the room having an animated but hushed conversation while the guys are (too) loudly discussing sports. It appears Joann has been crying, and Brent is quiet and looking pissed off. I'm no relationship genius but I figure Brent and Joann are on the outs after four years of marriage. I join the discussion about the football draft to blend in, nursing my beer. It no longer tastes good to me, the mood in the room has soured it somehow. Mia and Joann are best friends and my chances of hitting it off with Mia tonight are now approximately zero since she will be tending to Joann and offering emotional support. Dan heads to kitchen to mix some drinks and I go with him.
As he fixes another round of Cosmopolitans for the girls, he confirms my suspicion: Joann is leaving Brent. I have questions but don't ask, for instance, why is Brent here? I suspect it's to ruin Joann's evening, that's just the kind of guy he can be at times. I notice Dan is making the drinks double size. Amanda walks in and corners me, telling me to talk to Mia. I make the observation that Mia is preoccupied with Joann so now is probably not the best time to hit on her. Amanda sighs and reluctantly agrees before forcing a tray loaded with Cosmos on me and telling me to take them to the girls. I navigate the living room and approach them and, thankfully, they're not talking about the breakup at the moment so they don't need to stop when I walk up.
I offer the tray of drinks and everyone takes one. Joann drains half her glass in a couple of gulps and I see her eyes are wet. Mia's eyes are red like she's been crying, too, but she sips her drink at a slower pace. Aside from her eyes, she looks good tonight, wearing tight black jeans and a snug black blouse that accentuates her breasts. The top few buttons are undone exposing smooth, creamy white skin. I say my hellos and make a little small talk with the group, mostly about the restaurant. Mia is watching me closely, flashing me her dazzling smile, so I make most of my eye contact with her. I get the feeling she's flirting with me, but I also think she's a little wasted and I consider that it may just be the alcohol talking. After a few minutes, Joann excuses herself and abruptly pulls Mia by the hand towards the bathroom. I head back to the men-folk wondering where I left my beer.
I talk with the guys about the last World Series, the NFL season and even hockey. I've been out of the loop so I'm not too integral to the conversation and also I'm thinking about Mia. She's like that, you know, she gets in your mind and you can't help but think about her. A half hour later, Brent leaves and although he's plastered, I don't worry about him – his house is just down the street and he walked over. I go searching for my beer and wander into the kitchen to find it sitting on the counter at room temperature, next to Kurt and Linda, who are going at it. He has her pinned against the stove, their mouths locked in a wide open kiss, their hands pawing at each other's body, her leg wrapped around his body. Linda has her hands on his ass, squeezing mightily. Usually the more they drink, the more publicly affectionate they become. I don't say a word; I walk past them and retrieve my beer. They don't seem to mind.
I take a sip of warm beer as I wander back into the living room and the crowd has thinned to just the core group. Mia, Joann, and Amanda are huddled together on the couch while Eric and Dan talk music over by the stereo. Amanda sees me coming and peels Joann away from Mia and heads for the bedroom, leaving Mia alone. Gee, now looks like a good time so I walk over to her. Her face lights up and I'm feeling better about my chances already. I sit in a chair next to her, but as I open my mouth to something charming and witty, something that will make her want to take me home and make passionate love to me, the Clash's
London Calling
starts blaring from the speakers and Dan and Eric are high-fiving each other and pronouncing it the best song ever. Fucking hopeless, now, to try and talk to her. Mia motions to my beer and I hand it over. She takes a healthy swig before handing it back, and makes a face because it's warm. I lean into her so she can hear me over the music. Our knees touch and I catch the scent of her hair; she smells nice. She leans in too, and exposes some cleavage in the process.
"Sorry, I orphaned it a while back and I hate to waste anything," I yell over the din.
She laughs and puts her hand on my arm, and I'm getting a warm feeling inside - I think she really digs me. Kurt and Linda plop down on the couch, their clothes and hair looking a bit disheveled and the song ends. Mercifully, Dan turns the volume down, but before I can say anything to Mia, Linda asks me about my trip. Apparently, Amanda didn't give them the memo about letting Mia and me have some alone time. I sit back a little bit, but our knees are still touching. In fact, Mia's pressing her knee firmly against mine. I give her a smile, searching for a way to get Mia alone without sounding too obvious, but now Kurt jumps in. Eric and Dan sit in chairs opposite me and join in the conversation. I catch Mia's eye and she gives a private smile, and takes my beer and finishes it off as Amanda and Joann come back.
Everyone wants to know what it was like, being at the South Pole. I'm feeling self-conscious talking about it because I know some guys use it as a cheap ploy to pick up women, and I don't want to use any cheap ploys on Mia or seem like I'm using a cheap ploy; I want her to like me for me. But, everyone is pressing me for information, including Mia, so I tell them.
You see, when everything with Rachel fell apart, I wanted to put as much distance between me and her, so I figured I'd go to the bottom of the world. An old friend from cooking school told me about it a while back so I thought, why not. I filled out an application, submitted my medical and dental forms, and was hired. The following October I stepped off a military cargo plane and onto an alien world where the temperature was -60F. Fortunately, the cafeteria was in the newly constructed station so I spent my 60 working hours per week in a thoroughly modern and well heated kitchen. My sleeping quarters were also in the station so I rarely had to venture outside, except to walk over to old station which we used as dry food storage. Time passed quickly and the following February I spent two weeks vacationing in New Zealand on my way back home. All in all, not a bad way to get away from your problems.
Anyway, I tell them about my trip, answer their questions, and promise to show them pictures. Their curiosities satisfied, several people start making noise about leaving and a big discussion ensues over who is fit to drive and who isn't. The serious side of me kicks in and I'm sizing up everyone to see if they're sober enough, and in my professional opinion, none of them are. Except me, of course. I don't mind being the designated driver. In fact, I was hoping I could drive Mia home, but five people would be more of a bus service. Dan offers to drive but, in reality, he's blitzed, too. Some start performing sobriety tests on the others and they're all failing miserably and laughing about it. I do the math and the logistics and I figure how to get everyone home safe and sound, and maybe get some alone time with Mia.
"Okay, okay!" I say loudly to be heard over the laughter. "I'll drive. I've only had half a beer in the last hour and a half so I'm the only one who's sober. Plus I have a van which everyone can fit in."
Why does a divorced guy with no kids drive a minivan, you ask? I bought it for catering jobs. And to pick up soccer moms and their broods - very sexy.
