A Kiss and a Cuddle (8 page)

As
he moved the sheer linen and walked towards the exit, I could see silhouettes
of men outside the window.  The lights continued to flash.  It must have been
photographers.
 
He had mentioned earlier that the paparazzi mostly
followed him at night.
 
I watched from the table, as Rex stepped outside
towards the men.  I could see them talking back and forth.  It did not look
friendly, but the flashing lights stopped.  Rex turned his back on the men and
headed back to the restaurant, when one man yelled something to Rex.  Rex
quickly turned around, and in an instant, he lunged towards the man and swung
his arm, barely missing the photographer’s face.  The doormen jumped in to hold
Rex back, but he was still determined to get to the man.

At
that point, I leapt out of my chair and ran towards the exit.  There was a cab
waiting on the road, and the doormen led Rex into the backseat.  “Show some
respect!” Rex yelled back at the photographers.

“I’m
his friend.  I’m his friend!” I said, as I joined him in the back of the cab.

The
cab started to drive away.  I looked over at Rex.  His eyes were rimmed with
anger and anxiety.  He lowered his head into his hands and was silent.  I
looked out the window and let the muffled radio fill the empty air for the rest
of the drive.

“Ahhh,”
I sighed, as I rolled over in bed and blocked the sun with my duvet to try to
continue sleeping.  I enjoyed a few moments of sleepy peaceful bliss as I
drifted between stages of consciousness.  I stretched my body completely from
my head to toes and smiled.  The bliss lasted for a few seconds, until a
whirlwind of flashbacks from last night blasted through my mind and instantly
tied my stomach in knots.  Vivid pictures flickered through my mind – the flashing
lights, the yelling, the attack, the anger in Rex’s eyes.
 
I felt sick. 
I had never seen that side of Rex before.  And I did not like it.

It
was almost as if he had transformed or become possessed.  I wondered what the
photographer yelled before Rex attacked.  It was as if he had flicked a switch
and pushed Rex past the point of no return.
 
Even when it was just us
riding home in the cab, he didn’t say a word to me.  He didn’t even look up
when I got out at my building.  He had turned off.  He wasn’t Rex anymore.  I
had to admit it; whoever he was last night, scared me.

I
pulled the duvet over my head and sighed.  Why did this have to happen?
 
Everything
was going so well.  We had a real connection over dinner.  We were sharing
stories and getting to know each other.  I was so flattered when he invited me
to the art event.  I was surprised, even.  It was as though he had committed to
the idea of us, enough to share the idea of us with the world.  There would be
photographers there, no doubt.  All sorts of visions started to race through my
head during dessert.  What would I wear?  How would he introduce me?  Did he
want a long-distance relationship?  Did
I
want a long-distance
relationship?

All
of those questions seemed futile now.  It was obvious that he didn’t want to be
seen with me at the restaurant, or else he wouldn’t have been so enraged when
the photographers started taking pictures.  That was just a fact that I was
going to have to accept.  And the first stage of this acceptance process involved
me having to get out of bed and face the day.

I
turned on to my back and pushed myself up to a sitting position.  I looked
around at my room and saw Nina sleeping on a pile of clothes on my floor.  Oh
how I envied the life of a cat.  Endless naps, endless food, endless baths.  No
dates with men required.
 
I picked up my cell phone from my bedside
table to see that I had three text messages from Rex sent at 1:19AM, 3:11AM,
and 3:56AM.  I braced myself.

The
first text message read: “I want to apologize for tonight.  I didn’t mean for
the evening to go all to pot.  Hope you are okay xxx”

The
next text read: “There is no excuse, but that photographer tried to wind me
up.  The media have tried to hurt everyone I care about.  I hope you will let
me explain.  Please call me tomorrow xxx”

The
final text read:  “Do you believe in fate xxx”

He
seemed very sorry, troubled, and obviously, unable to sleep.  While I was still
shocked at his behavior, I tried to see it from his point of view.  The
photographers and flashing lights were new to me, almost exciting and
flattering.  For him, though, they were everywhere.  Around every street
corner, every public moment, every private moment.  The least I could do was to
let him explain.  He had better have a good excuse.
 
I couldn’t have an
unstable man in my life, especially if part of my future involved the fame of
being a successful singer.  I couldn’t be worried about him losing his temper
at every concert or red carpet event.

I
got up out of bed slowly and stretched my legs.  Nina heard me rustling around,
and she woke up to rub against my legs. 

“Ohh
Nina, what are we going to do, huh?” I asked, as I picked her up and cuddled
her.  I laughed to myself, remembering the moment when Rex was determined to
“hug her ‘til she loved him”.  Was that really how love worked?

I
picked up my cell phone and called Rex.  His contact picture was a photo of me
and him from the Red Rocks.  Roseanne and Billy-Bob’s big American adventure. 
A lot had changed since then.

“Rose,”
Rex said in a hopeful tone. “I am so glad to hear from you.”

“Are
you?”

“Yes,
I have had a terrible night.  I couldn’t sleep.  I just wanted to talk to you. 
I needed to.”

“Well,
here I am.” I replied.  I tried not to make it easy for him.  He still needed
to prove himself, although it was surprisingly nice to hear that he needed me.

“Listen,
I don’t know what got into me, and I am terribly ashamed of my behaviour.  It’s
just that… you see,” he started to stumble on his words. “There is no excuse
for what I did, but I saw red and couldn’t stop myself.”

“And
how do I know you won’t ‘see red’ and act like that again?”

“That
man… what he yelled was disrespectful.  He was trying to get a rise out of me,
and he shouldn’t have brought my mother into it.”

“Your
mother?”
 
The man yelled something rude about his mom?
 
Everything
was clicking into place – why Rex was so protective, why he lost his composure
in an instant, and why he hated the media resolutely.

“I
don’t want to repeat it.  He was trying to wind me up.  And it worked,” Rex
continued.  “It is tough, you know, talking about it. Talking about her,” he
said gently, as his words turned to a whisper.

“It
is okay.  I understand.  I find it hard to talk about people from my past too,”
I admitted.

“I
just… I just want to know what she would be like today.  I want to know if she
would be proud of me.  I have tried to carry on her legacy, I have… but it is
tough.  It is tough without her here,” he said, sounding like the wounded child
that I once heard before.

“She
would be proud of you, without question,” I tried to comfort him.  A protective,
almost maternal, warmth came over me, and I wanted to hug him until he melted into
me.  Until everything was better.  Until he loved me
.
  “You are an
amazing man.  You created your own charity.  You bring happiness to people who
are suffering around the world simply by being there and listening to them. 
And especially by your dance moves.”

“I
always did know how to put on a good show.  She knew how to put on a good show
too, my mother,” Rex replied, sounding more spirited.

“Yes,
and you will put on a good show tomorrow night too,” I encouraged him.

“Will
you still come over beforehand to help with my speech?”

“Yes,
without question,” I replied, and I was reminded that I needed to get ready for
tomorrow.  “I have to go now, but I will see you tomorrow night.”

“Okay. 
I promise I will do better, Rose.”

We
said goodbye, and I sat back down on my bed.  I couldn’t even begin to try to
imagine the pain he must feel.  I had lost a parent too, yes.  But my dad
willfully chose to leave; he wasn’t unwillingly stolen from me.  It was a
deliberate decision by one man, not an unexplainable act of fate.  Somehow, the
anger I felt towards my dad for making that decision always limited the sadness
I felt.  And for me, anger was easier to deal with than sadness.

I
never allowed myself to think about the past for long.  I couldn’t tell if that
was because I was resilient or scared, but I didn’t live in the past, and Rex
didn’t either.  It was time for us to look to the future, starting with the art
event tomorrow.  Rex was officially back in the good books.

“Damn,
girl!”

I
was back at the dress shop on Larimer Street.  This time, I was going to find
the perfect dress for the art event.

“So,
what’s the occasion?” the male shop assistant continued.

“I
am going to an art appreciation dinner tonight in Boulder,” I replied while
looking at myself in the mirror.  I was wearing a gold, floor-length gown, with
a swooping cowl neck that modestly exposed my décolletage.  Gemstones accented
the neckline and below my chest.  It was a thick, cosy material that softly caressed
my body.

“Woo,
all those artsy men are going to want to eat you right up, like one of them
gold-wrapped Ferrero Rocher candies.”

“Oh,
do you think so?  Is the neck a little bit too low?  I don’t want to be
flaunting anything.”

“Girl,
you are covered from your head to your toe.  They can’t even sneak a peek at
those legs of yours.  You are not ‘flaunting’ at all.  What’s wrong with you? 
I could try to see if we have some Amish attire in the back…”

“No,
no, no,” I laughed.  “I just want to make a good, respectable impression.”

“Okay,
girl,” he replied. “It’s just a dinner though, right?  Not like this is some
big event with paparazzi.  You won’t be plastered all over the magazines the
next day, with fashion designers reviewing if you are ‘hot or not’?  Know what
I’m saying?”

“Hmm,
I suppose so,” I said hesitantly.  I might be photographed if I went as Rex’s
date.  I might be evaluated as ‘hot or not’ in the magazines.  I might be
ripped to shreds.  Oh, sweet corn-on-the-cob!  I didn’t know if I could go
through with it!

“And
even if you were in the magazines, you would kill it.  You look impeccably
dressed and poised.  You look like royalty, baby!” the shop assistant assured
me.

“Okay,”
I replied, still looking at the dress in the mirror.  I did look very elegant,
and Rex could always give me fashion tips when I meet him beforehand.  I turned
around and looked at my back-view in the mirror; the back of the dress dipped
low enough to see the curvature of my back, before lightly skimming my derriere
and gracefully flowing to the floor. 
Rex would love this dress. 
“This
is the dress!” I exclaimed.

I
spent the entire rest of the day getting ready for the art event later that
evening.  My getting ready ritual felt more like a day at the spa.  I came home
after buying my golden dress and treated myself like a princess. 

I
started with a long, hot candlelit bath, where I gently exfoliated, shaved, and
moisturized.  I took breaks between working, napping, and popping Ferrero
Rocher chocolates into my mouth.  I couldn’t stop thinking about Ferrero
Rochers once the shop assistant mentioned them, so I caved in and bought a box.
 I thought I could eat the box over a week or so, but there I was: lathering
myself up with my pink luffa, singing along to my favorite Elton John cd, and
throwing 2 or 3 chocolates in my mouth at one time.  I finished off the entire
box within an hour.  It was divine.

Nina
enjoyed the bath too, as she sat up on the bath ledge or played with my
crumpled up candy wrappers on the floor. 

“Mommy
is going on a date,” I explained to Nina as she supervised my bath-time
activities.  She didn’t show any type of encouragement for my big night, and
she just stared back at me blankly. 

After
I had my fill of wine, chocolates, and relaxation, I got out of the bath and
started my beauty regimen.  Moisturizer, first.  Everywhere.  I spritzed some
of my perfume on my neck and wrists.  I remembered my mom once saying, “Spray
perfume everywhere you want to be kissed.”  I sprayed a little extra on my
décolletage.  You saucy minx, Rose.
 
It made everything smell like
vanilla and Christmas, just like what the girl said in the elevator last week. 

I
sat down at my table to start to put on my makeup.  I wanted to look flawless
for the photographers, but mostly, for Rex.  I went for a dramatic cat-eye look
with deep red lipstick.  I must have applied my mascara a hundred times, trying
to get the perfect balance of thick, long eyelashes with no clumps.

“Ta
da!” I said to Nina, after finishing my make-up.  Nina looked at me briefly
with boredom before looking down at the ground.  “Come on, Nina.  You aren’t
exactly my number one cheerleader right now.  But just wait until you see my
dress.”

I
gently pulled the golden gown over my head.  It cascaded down my body and
landed perfectly over my curves.  This dress was meant to be.  I had to put all
food and wine away to ensure I didn’t have any stain emergencies before the big
night. 

Finally,
it was time to do my hair.  I put it up into a half-up, half-down hairstyle,
with a perfectly round ballerina bun at the back.  The rest of my hair flowed
beautifully down my back, and I let some delicate pieces fall softly around my
face.  Wow.  It was almost as if a crown or a tiara would fit perfectly on top
of my head… like a
Royal Heiress.
  I laughed out loud at my ridiculous
thoughts.  But, really…