“Okay, I won’t call you Donny,” she said. “But if we’re going to start seeing each other, I’m going to want a pet name for you.”
We looked at each other, and I rotated my palm so I could hold her hand. She cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.
I said, “I have to admit there’s something special about you… Pablo!”
“Oh, God,” she said and laughed some more. “Okay then, no nicknames!”
I tried to remember the last time Janet and I shared a laugh.
“Something about me,” Kathleen repeated. Her eyes hinted amusement. She winked at me and sipped her cocktail. “Mmm,” she said. She touched the napkin to her mouth. You could add up all her looks and mannerisms and never total gorgeous, but you’d get to adorable pretty quick, and that was enough for me. Hell, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“Something’s bothering you. I can see it in your eyes.”
She twitched her mouth to one side and held it there, a sort of half-frown. “I don’t want to ruin the moment,” she said.
“The moment will survive.”
“Okay then, brace yourself.”
I took my hand away from hers and grabbed both sides of the table and pretended to hold on tight. “Let ’er rip!” I said.
She took a deep breath. “Last night at Starbucks, you told me about Janet and Ken dating. You were worried about his temper, what he might do to her if they decide to get married.”
I kept quiet.
“Do you still love her?” she asked.
“No. But I don’t want my daughter’s mother to marry a wifebeater.” She made a face, and I said, “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.”
Kathleen was wearing the same cloth coat she’d worn the night before. She’d been cold and hadn’t wanted to surrender it to the coat check girl downstairs. But now she stood and removed it and folded it over the back of her chair, revealing a white blouse, a tan faux suede skirt, and a wide brown belt with two gold buckles. She wore very little makeup, or maybe it hadn’t been freshened up in a while, since she’d come straight from work. It didn’t seem to make her uncomfortable the way most women would be. She sat back down and surprised me by taking my hand in hers and kissing it.
“I don’t wish him dead or anything,” she said. “But Ken is…” She sighed. “Ken is not a part of my life anymore. I mean, there’s not a day goes by I don’t think about him or the terrible things he did to me. But.” She paused and showed a bittersweet smile as the memories danced across her face. “There were some good times, too. In the beginning.”
