A Girl's Guide to Moving On (18 page)

He ignored the question.

“Rocco?”

“I don't take women out.”

Now I was confused. “But—”

“Leave it, Nichole,” he barked, and then quickly apologized. “Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you.”

He really was nervous about this, which surprised me. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but decided I should be honored that he'd bent his self-imposed rule to “date” me.

We drove to a tavern that had a lot of motorcycles parked out front. Rocco helped me out of the truck and then, with his hand at the small of my back, he led me inside. As soon as we entered it seemed everyone in the entire room went silent and looked at us. Rocco stood with the tips of his fingers tucked into his back pockets.

“Hey. Everyone, this is Nichole.”

Several of the guys lifted their beer mugs in greeting.

“Hi,” I said, and, unsure what to do, I gave a small wave.

Rocco found us a table and ordered us each a beer, which was promptly delivered by a waitress in shorts and a halter top that exposed more skin than a bikini. I watched Rocco, but his eyes didn't follow the scantily clad woman, which pleased me.

I sat in a chair at the high-top and Rocco stood next to me in a protective stance. A couple guys drifted by and Rocco made small talk with them, including me in the conversation whenever possible. There didn't appear to be many women around, which garnered me a lot of attention.

“Where'd you two meet?” a guy named Sam asked.

I knew his name because it was labeled on his leather jacket. “He pulled me out of a ditch,” I answered.

Sam chuckled. “I gotta get me one of those tow trucks so I can meet a pretty lady like you.”

Rocco circled his arm around my waist as if claiming his territory. “Back off, Sam,” Rocco said, but his eyes held a teasing light.

Sam raised both hands in surrender and winked at me. I liked him immediately. He was about Rocco's age, or maybe a bit older. “Rocco's a good guy. Not many of those around, so if I was you, I'd hold on to this one.”

Rocco muttered something I couldn't hear.

“I think you're onto something,” I told Sam.

Rocco looked to me, his eyes narrowed. “You mean that?”

My answer was to simply smile, which appeared to satisfy him.

He noticed that I hadn't drunk much of my beer. “I'd order you wine, but they don't serve it here.”

“No wine?”

“Sorry, the guys who come here are a beer-drinking crowd.”

“Don't worry about it.” Beer wasn't my favorite drink, but I'd manage.

After we finished our beers, Rocco and I shot a game of pool. I was offered plenty of advice from his friends, who seemed more than willing to aid me. I could see Rocco didn't appreciate the attention I attracted, but he kept his cool. It was almost as if he wasn't sure how to act around me when he was with his friends.

After a second beer I relaxed and laughed, enjoying myself. I'll admit his friends were rough on the outside, but nothing like one would expect. First impressions could be misleading. It seemed a lot of them rode motorcycles and hung out together.

I played a second game of pool, but this time it was with Sam and a couple others while Rocco stood back and watched. When we won I slipped my arms around Rocco and looked up at him, wearing a triumphant smile.

“Having fun?” he asked, grinning down on me.

“I am.” I actually was enjoying myself. It'd been far too long since I'd been on a date, even if Rocco didn't want to call it that.

A huge man with bulging muscles, a beard, and a leather jacket joined us, along with a woman, also wearing a leather jacket, stating she was his property. Was she nuts? She had her arm around his middle. She smiled at Rocco and it seemed there might have been something between them at one time.

I stepped closer to him and tucked my finger in his belt loop and glared at the other woman.

The man looked at me and then at Rocco. “This your woman?”

Rocco looked to me as if unsure how to answer.

I smiled up at him.

“Yeah,” he said, not breaking eye contact with me. “Nichole is my woman.”

I met Kacey at Lloyd's Center. Jake and her son, Adam, who was two years older, used to ice-skate in the center rink. Jake was around ten at the time. The ice rink held a lot of fond memories for me. Kacey needed a mother-of-the-bride dress, as her daughter was getting married in the summer, and she'd decided to start the search early.

“I hate this!” Kacey declared, studying herself in the dressing room mirror, twisting around to study her backside. Her shoulders slumped forward. “I look like a dumpy middle-aged woman.”

“You are a dumpy middle-aged woman,” I reminded her, shaking my head. “We both are.”

“No one needs a friend who speaks the truth,” Kacey joked. “Come on, let's go have lunch. I need a break.”

I was more than happy to agree. It took far more stamina than I realized to shop for a mother-of-the-bride dress. It'd been a long time since I'd spent two or three hours shopping for just the perfect outfit. Since the divorce I rarely went out and definitely had no need for formal attire. I didn't envy Kacey the search for the perfect dress.

“You feeling okay?” Kacey asked as we walked out of Nordstrom.

I still had shingles, but the antiviral medications had started to work and I was down to half a painkiller every few hours, which cut back on the nausea side effects and sleepiness. “I'm certainly better than I was last week.”

We found a restaurant inside the mall and were seated right away. As soon as we ordered, Kacey leaned closer to me. “Guess who I saw last weekend?”

I didn't need to guess. “Sean.”

“Yup, and he was full of questions about you.”

I had no idea why Sean would ask about me, especially when we'd seen each other recently.

“Aren't you curious what he wanted to know?” Kacey asked. She seemed disappointed that I hadn't taken the bait.

I shook my head. “Not really. I can't imagine why he asked about me, and frankly, I don't care.”

“Okay, to be accurate he wasn't as curious about you as he was about the man who brings you the bread. You know the one I mean? The guy we met that time at the deli.”

My back stiffened. This definitely raised my curiosity. “What about Nikolai?”

“Sean was pretty sneaky about getting information out of me, but I was onto him right away.”

“What do you mean?”

Kacey was in her element, using her hands expressively, eager to fill in the details. “Bill and I were having drinks at the club. You know how busy it gets on Saturday nights. We were at the bar waiting for a table when Sean sauntered in. Naturally, he had a woman with him.”

Naturally. That was information I wasn't interested in hearing.

“When he saw us he left his flavor of the month and came to talk to me and Bill. He made small talk for a few minutes. He asked Bill about his golf game, mentioned they should get together soon, you know, that sort of thing.”

I nodded, anxious for her to get to the part about Nikolai.

“Then Sean looked at me and said how lovely I looked, blah, blah, blah. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes and ask him what he wanted.” She pursed her lips together.

“That is very Seanlike.” I always knew when he complimented me that he needed something from me.

“He mentioned that he stopped by your apartment recently and met some foreigner. I knew right away he meant the man from the deli. I didn't know that you were seeing him outside the classroom.”

“I don't think ‘seeing him' is quite the right term,” I said, downplaying our relationship.

“He was at your apartment, though. That's what Sean said.”

“Yes, he was there…he's teaching me how to bake bread.”

Kacey's eyes widened ever so slightly.

I wasn't giving her any additional information. Nor did I mention I'd be seeing Nikolai that very evening.

“Does he still bring you bread every class session?”

“I haven't been back to school since I got shingles.” I avoided the question as best I could.

“But you are going back?”

“Yes.” I planned to return the week before Halloween in order to give myself time to heal.

“Well, anyway,” she continued, “Sean wanted to know what I could tell him about Nikolai.”

I didn't like the sound of this. “And what did you tell him?”

“Not much. I mean, I didn't know a lot; for instance, I didn't realize he gave bread-making lessons. Does he do this often? If so, I'd sign up in a heartbeat. The bread is delicious, but then so is the teacher.” She laughed and waved her hand in front of her face, indicating that she thought Nikolai was hot.

I wasn't amused. I'd never considered myself a jealous woman. Sean had cured me of that years earlier, or so I'd thought. I didn't care that Kacey was my best friend or that she was married. I resented her telling me she thought Nikolai was hot. “I can ask him if you want,” I said, discounting my uneasiness. I didn't want Nikolai anywhere near Kacey and immediately felt silly because there was no way Nikolai would get involved with a married woman. Besides, I knew Kacey was only teasing me.

“Getting back to Sean,” Kacey said. “He seemed concerned.”

“Concerned?”

“He's afraid you're at a vulnerable point in your life and could easily be misled, especially by an immigrant. He came right out and said that he didn't trust the way Nikolai looked at you. He suggested Nikolai might be dangerous and then lowered his voice to warn me Nikolai could be part of the Russian Mafia.”

“Oh please.” I laughed out loud. That was insane.

“I know, I know,” Kacey said, laughing lightly. “It isn't like you're involved with him.” She hesitated and studied me closely. “Or are you?”

That was a question I was determined not to answer. I looked up, hoping the waiter was about to deliver our meals. Naturally, he was nowhere in sight.

“What else did Sean want to know?” I asked, avoiding a direct answer.

I should have known Kacey wouldn't be easily put off. “Are you two involved?” she pressed.

“Nikolai and I are
friends
.”

“F-r-i-e-n-d-s?” She dragged out the word. “Close friends?” she added.

“What do you mean?”

“Friends with
benefits
?”

My mouth sagged open. “You know me better than that.”

She laughed. “But there's something going on between you two.” Kacey was almost giddy with excitement. “I knew it. Sweetie, if I was you I'd drag that man to bed so fast it'd make your head spin like that girl in the movie
The Exorcist.
”

“Kacey,” I snapped. “Please.” She had me blushing. I'd never been one to treat sex casually, and I wasn't about to start at this point in my life.

“That man is gorgeous, and if he makes you happy, then so what?”

The waiter came with our salads and I was so glad to see him I was tempted to jump up and kiss him on both cheeks. This conversation had quickly grown uncomfortable.

Kacey reached for her fork and speared a fat shrimp. “I think Sean's jealous, and frankly, I couldn't be happier. After everything he put you through, it's time he got a taste of his own medicine.”

“I was never jealous of Sean's women,” I said, and I was being honest. Perhaps in the very beginning, the first or second time I'd discovered he was having an affair, but I soon learned jealousy was a useless emotion. I'd closed myself off from any feeling toward my husband for so long that nothing seemed to faze me.

“I'm happy for you, Leanne,” Kacey said with all sincerity.

I looked over at my friend and told her what was most important for her to know. “I am happy, Kacey.” And I was far happier than I had been in a very long while.

We parted ways after lunch and I returned to the apartment, exhausted. I took one of the pain meds and despite my best efforts I fell asleep, only to wake when the doorbell chimed.

It was Nikolai.

I hadn't meant to sleep nearly that long and immediately felt guilty. I'd wanted to refresh my makeup and fix my hair before he arrived.

Nikolai stood on the other side of the threshold with a large takeout bag in his hand and wearing a huge smile.

“I come too early?”

“No, no, it's fine.” I ushered him inside and he set the bag on the kitchen countertop.

“I'm sorry. I was out this afternoon and then I fell asleep.” I felt the need to apologize for my appearance. But Nikolai had seen me when I was at my worst and it hadn't bothered him.

Nikolai brought me close and his large hands framed my face. He brushed the hair behind my ears and then slowly lowered his mouth to mine. The kiss was slow and deliberate, and I melted in his arms. Oh, the things this man made me feel. It was as if my insides turned to mush every time he touched me.

When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead against mine. “All day I think about you. I think three hours then I see you. Then two hours, and then I think only one hour. The last hour take longer than all the other hours.”

I leaned forward and kissed him, slipping my arms around his solid frame.

“You too good for me,” he whispered. “I not know why you kiss me.”

“Stop,” I demanded, and pressed my fingertips over his lips. “Don't even think that.”

Nikolai grinned and rubbed his nose against mine. “I kiss you like Eskimo,” he whispered.

The doorbell rang, and when I opened it Nichole was there with Owen.

“Owen wanted to check to see if you're feeling better,” Nichole explained.

I noticed that her attention went past me to Nikolai. She stepped forward and extended her hand. “I'm Nichole. We met a while back.”

Nikolai smiled. “Yes, yes, I remember.”

“I'm Owen,” my grandson said proudly. “I dwive a tow twuck.”

Getting down on one knee so that he was eye level with Owen, Nikolai extended his hand. “You fine young man to be so smart to drive big truck.”

Owen frowned and looked up at his mother. “He talks funny,” he whispered, as if Nikolai couldn't hear him.

“I only learned English five years now. I am citizen.”

“Am I citizen?” Owen asked me, pronouncing the word with the same voice inflection as Nikolai.

“Yes, you are,” Nichole assured her son.

Owen had on his zippered one-piece outfit that Rocco had ordered for him. He'd worn it every day since Rocco had taken him for a ride. Nichole told me that she was hardly able to get him to take it off for bed, Owen was so proud and excited. I wished Jake showed as much interest in his son as Rocco did.

The time Jake spent with Owen had shortened every week he took him. In the beginning Jake would bring Owen home around seven on Sunday night. Last Sunday he had him back to Nichole around three. I could see this was becoming a pattern. It was almost as if having Owen over the entire weekend had become a nuisance.

Nichole and Owen left after a few minutes. Nikolai gripped hold of my hand. He tapped his finger in the space between my eyes. “You frown. You not like your grandson visit?”

“Oh no. I love Owen and Nichole. She's like a daughter to me. I was just thinking about Jake, Owen's father. I'm worried he isn't taking his responsibility toward his son seriously.” Owen spoke frequently about Rocco and Kaylene and said little about his own father.

“You worry?”

“Yes, I worry, but there's nothing I can do about it.”

“Come. You sit. I bring dinner so you not cook.” He glanced toward the large bag he'd brought with him. “I no cook, either.”

“From the deli?” I asked, as he led me to the small table I had in the kitchen area.

“No, from Sun Young. From class. He sorry when I tell him you have shingles. He say he cook for you.”

“So it's Chinese food.” One of my favorites.

“Special Chinese soup because you good teacher. Sun Young say no one else get this soup. He make for you…just you.”