So that's what got me to this point. And that's why I blame Gina. She brought Tom into my life, she pushed him at me (and probably pushed him towards me, only more subtly), and she's the reason everything is all messed up right now. Now? Well, it's about 24 hours since Tom kissed me, a stretch of time spent freaking out, panicking, soul-searching, crying, remembering, dreaming, and yes...masturbating. And that was just the first 2 hours!
I got into work this morning, skipping breakfast. It was just as well, because Thomas didn't show for breakfast either. Instead, there was a bottle of wine on my desk, and a note that said, "We should talk. Tonight. Warmly, T."
We should talk?
Yes. We should definitely talk. I went to his office around lunchtime. He was between patients, so I poked my head in. In a controlled voice, I said, "A little after six, OK?"
He looked up and smiled at me. "Should we go to your place?"
"Neutral ground- the lobby," I countered.
"You're right. I'm sure it's fine if people see us talking. Let them draw their own conclusions." he smirked. He was right. Dammit.
"My office, then," I said firmly. A statement, not a question. I wasn't going to have this conversation near a bed.
"Better make it seven, then. I think Gina's been having dinner with Tricia. Might want to wait until she's gone for the night. She seems to be keeping a close eye on both of us."
That got a laugh out of me. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed.
"I'll go out and get us some food to eat- is Chinese OK?" I offered.
"Chinese, in your office, at 7. And we'll work on the wine until we get things sorted out." Saying that, he pulled two glasses out of his drawer and held them up for me to see.
"Good idea. I think I'll need the help." I backed up, never having allowed myself to enter his office.
As I turned to leave, he called out, "Dottie?" I paused and looked back. He went on, "I'm sorry if...last night I..."
"We'll talk about it later. Just keep your mind on my patients for now."
"
My
patients, Dottie.
Your
clinic, but
my
patients." His voice was playful, but serious. I knew not to get between him and his work.
*******
When Tom arrived a few minutes after 7, I walked out to the hall and looked around for lights.
"Gina drove off 10 minutes ago," he told me. We've got as much privacy as two people can have around this place."
"Well I wouldn't put it past Gina to come back if she suspected that both of us were still here. You'd think a new baby in the house would keep her mind busy..." I directed him to the couch and the spread of Chinese take-out on the table. I sat in a cushioned chair across from him.
Thomas sat down and said, "Apparently not busy enough. She's already talking about number four. There was a girl at the clinic today who is not sure she wants to keep her baby, and Gina made sure she knew there would be a loving home for it, if that's what she wanted."
"Dammit, Tom, I swear that woman is going to be building us an orphanage before long."
He laughed loudly at that, and the full sound of his laugh rumbled in my ears. When he was able to talk again, he said, "Well, I guess we each have our own obsessions. Something that evokes our passion and receives the brunt of our energies."
"You talk like a book. You know that right?" He paused, chopsticks in mid-air, and looked at me questioningly.
"I'm just teasing you," I assured him. "But it's true. Sometimes you sound like everything has been written for you by a speechwriter."
"I read a lot when I was young. I spent far more time with books than with people, even through college. My style of speaking came from the books I read, so it's probably a little less vernacular than most."
"Well at least you're a doctor. You couldn't get away with that in a lot of other jobs!"
Tom shifted nervously in his seat, then spoke while poking his rice around. "I wish I could say I had some thoughts prepared for our conversation this evening, Dottie, but I can't seem to get my thoughts straight. I'm hoping that together we can figure things out."
I stood up and walked to my desk. Retrieving the wine bottle, I brought it to the table. Tom reached into his side bag and pulled out two glasses. As I poured the drinks, I said, "Tom, this will either be a very short conversation or a very long one."
"To a
fruitful
one," he said, raising his glass.
"Amen to that," I said, clinking my glass against his. I drank my first glass down in one go, hoping to calm my nerves right away. I didn't drink often- hardly ever- so I worried about my capacity. The wine wasn't strong, but I could tell it had started working. After a few more bites, I took a deep breath and said, "Let's start with last night. What were you thinking?"
Smiling, he swallowed a mouthful of food and said, "I was thinking that I really wanted to kiss you. Seeing the opportunity, I took it."
"Well, I'm glad to know you you didn't kiss me against your will, but what I mean is...
why
?"
Tom seemed confused by the question. Finishing his own glass of wine, he poured us both another and said, "If you mean, 'Why did I want to kiss you,' then I guess it's pretty simple. You're an amazing woman, Dottie. I'm attracted to you, but not just physically. I really enjoy you as a person. I feel drawn to you. You inspire me, you encourage me, you...you're great. Damn, I can't even put it in words. You're special. And...I think we have been getting closer together over the past few months. I'd like for us to be closer. I'd been wanting to for a while. And you seem to share some of those feelings...I think...unless I'm totally misreading all your nonverbal communication."
"And rather than use some verbal communication to take the next step, you grabbed my neck and kissed me?" I spoke sharply, but not harshly. I hadn't minded the kiss- not one bit. What bothered me was the way he went about it.
"I'm sorry for that," he said, and we both took another drink. "I'm pretty nervous about all this. You're an intimidating woman. And to be frank, I was pretty sure your head might try to overrule your heart at first, so I didn't include it in the conversation."
It was a funny way of putting it, but he was making perfect sense.
"I'm old enough to be your mother. You realize that, don't you?" No sense in dancing around the elephant in the room.
Not missing a beat, he said, "You're old enough to have all the poise and character and charm and wisdom that make a woman truly beautiful."
Dammit. He had a way with words. Almost like Jimmy, but more sincere.
"Plus, you are also very attractive," he said, looking into my eyes.
"For a woman my age," I clarified, looking away.
"For a woman of any age." I downed the rest of my glass an poured a third. I was going to need it.
It was a long conversation. And a fruitful one. We didn't cover all the ground we needed to. Mostly, I needed to be assured that he was serious, that he didn't just have a fetish for older women (or some unhealthy Mommy issues), and that he knew that, whatever happened from here on out, we needed to be very discreet.
An hour and a half later, we had finished off all the food and most of the bottle of wine. I may have had more than my fair share, which, I told myself, was why I was wanting so badly to join him on the couch. I felt a little giddy, but not drunk. I felt like I was still making rational decisions, aided by a little liquid courage. I stood up, walked around the table, and sat on the couch next to Thomas. He didn't say a word, but his eyes followed mine the whole time. He turned his upper body to face me, but kept his hands to himself. I felt sexy, and strong, and in control. We faced each other, only inches apart.
"Tom. I have a secret to tell you." He raised his eyebrows in anticipation. "I'm very interested in you, too. I have been for a while. I can't promise you that anything will come of this, but I'd like to try. You may not like what it takes- I'm a traditional girl and I stick to my principles. But I'm giving you the green light to talk more about this."
Tom seemed a little flustered, and whispered in reply, "Dottie...I'm so glad to hear that."
Not sure what else to say, I leaned in and touched my lips to his. In some ways it reminded me of that first tentative kiss with Glen so many years before. There was a chasteness to it, a simplicity, a knowledge that we would only kiss, nothing more. But it was different from that kiss with Glen, because this time there was a well-spring of desire behind it. I wanted more, I hoped there could be more, I wanted this kiss to be just a prelude to love-making. Not that night, not on that couch, but eventually. I feared Tom wouldn't think it worth the effort. But I hoped.
I let those fears and worries melt into one kiss, touching the tip of my tongue to his lips. He responded gently, and our tongues moved slowly across the space between us. When I started to feel like I wouldn't be able to stop myself from going further, I pulled back and cleared my throat. I giggled and said, "Shame on you, Doctor. Getting me tipsy and taking advantage of me."
