Brian and I had been divorced for ages and that made me happy, for a while, until the loneliness swept in. Holidays nagged the most. And yes, I was nervous over the reckless choices I'd taken lately, but I still hoped for a new chance at real love.
Sure, I'd slept with a few guys, but I hadn't found anything satisfying. The sex was okay – well sometimes. Men, at least the kind I'd found so far, they either wanted a quick blow job or a fast lay. It scared me shitless most of the time. I wondered, did they lie being married? Were they crazy? Would I catch something?
Still, lonely was worse.
I'd spent the evening at the party thinking too hard and avoiding a few ass grabbing drunks, when I saw him under the 'Happy Holidays' sign.
He turned at that moment. I ate up those lost puppy-dog eyes and realized how well I knew them - a nice thrill from the past. I motioned across the room. I shouted, "Keith", but he didn't hear over the band's music.
I kept watching. He carried his drink like a shield in front of him. A blonde with a low cut blouse smiled, obviously interested, tried to engage him in a word as he passed, but he cut quickly away to the safety of an isolated corner.
I walked across the room and when I got there, he glanced at me with terror. He didn't recognize me. I said, "Keith? Keith Hamilton?" I could see the wheels turning. I helped him, "It's Karen – Whitaker."
The sparkle of fireworks in his eyes excited me. He said, "Jesus! Karen? How are you? You look great – I mean it – just great."
"It's been quite a while." I said.
"Brian?" He asked the obvious question.
"Divorced and good riddance. I'm footloose and fancy-free. How's Susie?"
His eyes reddened. "Car accident," he mumbled, "four months ago."
"Oh no, not Sue." I gasped.
Keith only nodded. It had to still hurt.
"You want a drink?" He asked.
"No, but I'm dying for a cigarette." I said.
"Me, too." He took my arm and escorted me to the exit so suddenly that I left my coat at the check desk.
Outside, the wind had picked up; the temperature chilly. Cold slipped through the sheer blouse but Keith didn't notice my goose flesh shivers. He just looked deep into my eyes, deep enough to see into my soul. He lit my cigarette. I puffed it until he finally noticed my shaking.
"I'm an idiot" He said. "Here, take my jacket." He put it over my shoulders and tugged it tight.
I joked, "Most guys try to look down my blouse, but you just cover me up."
He stood, glazed over, like his soul was numb.
"C'mon, tell me how you're feeling."
"Nothing, I - feel - nothing."
I said, "Listen, dummy, this is Karen. Y'know, the girl who sat up all night with you in Fort Lauderdale ten years ago? Remember that motel room? God, no A/C and there we were, the four of us stark naked it was so hot. We went down for a senior moment in the sun, but Brian had been in a fight that day – damn steroids – and Susie was drunk on tequila margaritas, all passed out."
"Yeah, I remember." He smiled. "I remember how cute and sexy you were."
"Damn it, you know, it was all I could do to keep from jumping your bones, but you were so devoted to Susie, so all I could do was talk to you"
"You were interested in me? I never dreamed that I stood a chance." He said, "So, Brian...?"
"The steroids finally killed it, we'd both stopped trying; just too much history. Back when he took the steroids regularly, he was always in a rage, but the sports took most of it. Ironically, the hitting didn't start until after we got married and he got hurt and lost his chance to go pro. You know, I haven't opened up like this in a long time."
"I didn't know all that happened." He said.
I shrugged it off. I said, "Tell me - about Susie."
"Like you said, it was margaritas on the town and vodka at home. She got pissed every time I brought it up. I thought when Hunter – that's our boy – got older; she'd slow down, but - the cops told me she registered 0.17 when she crashed the Mercedes into that tree. Uh, Karen, she was, was, she was - decapitated."
I moved in close to him, placed a hand on his face where his tears streaked down. He leaned right into me and hugged me.
After a moment I said, "It's cold, we should go."
He looked at me and said, "You're still so pretty."
The silent pause after that was electric. I got that little twinge in my stomach that always led to complications. His lips got close to mine, almost touching, close, so close, and then, just like that, he whipped away colder than the night.
"Yeah, I guess we should go in now. It's been nice to see you again."
"Damn, you." I raged. "How dare you dismiss me."
I grabbed his arm and dug my nails in deep. The shock on his face matched my voice when I shouted, "Tell me why you're afraid? If she's dead, that's too bad, but you wouldn't be here if you weren't looking for something or somebody."
"I – I – she's dead and I couldn't stop it. I feel so guilty."
"Hell, Keith, how could it be different? She drank herself to death; we could all see it coming even back then."
"Karen, you don't get it. I'm glad. Our life was a living Hell. I wanted a divorce, but her mother - everyday, it was a phone call from the bitch who told her, 'Susan, if I can take all the whores my husband fucks, you can put up with a limp dick like Keith.'"
He cradled his head in his hand, unable to fight off the ghosts.
I shook his arm, "Look! Brian and Susie aren't here but we are, the two of us, y'know?"
A light suddenly lit inside him. He swept me up in a move so fast; it sucked all my breath away. His lips pressed hard on mine. God, I wanted him; had all those years ago, but his kiss was horrible, slobbery, awkward, no chemistry. Tommy Lancaster in eighth grade had been better – even with braces.
He knew it too, probably it reflected in my eyes. He let go and turned away - all the air had went out of him like a deflated balloon.
"I – I'm sorry, Karen." His head hung so low, it tugged at my heart. "Let me get you some coffee; get you warm." He said. He held the door open for me.
I thought, well honey you've had lots of godawful dates, one night stands, bad fucks, but look, here is a hell of a nice guy in front of you. A bad kiss probably means a bad fuck, and sure - he's pretty messed up - but a deep down good guy like Keith is hard to find.
"No, I don't want to go inside." I said. "Coffee is free at my house and my little girl Briana is down with Brian for the holidays. Come home with me, Keith."
"For coffee?" He mumbled.
"Or more, if you want, Baby."
*** He walked up the driveway as I opened the front door.
Inside, I led him to my bedroom. I looked into his scared eyes. I hooked my arms about his neck to encourage and he followed my lead to my lips. There was still a taste of nicotine on his teeth when I kissed him. His lips were warm, soft, but at first noncommittal. I pressed deeper and got more of a response. He kissed back and then I could feel his erection against my thigh. He got nervous over it and pulled back from me, but I pushed into his hard-on so he knew that I wanted him. I did want him.