Knowing Is Not Enough (7 page)

I needed reinforcements. I called Linda from inside my closet to get a second opinion, while I continued to search for the right outfit. “Hey, Linda?” Linda’s house, incessantly noisy, my nieces’ and nephew’s elevated voices in the background.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“What is going on at your house? It always sounds like you have a whole elementary school in there.”

Linda said, “I feel like I have a whole elementary school in my house. But it’s just these three little monsters of mine.”

“It’s just a matter of time before we find you and Mitch tied up and the kids are gone on a joy ride.”

“Well, if they do, I hope they run errands to give me a break.”

“Yeah, that’s probably not going to happen–the errands. Okay, I’m having trouble deciding what to wear. What are you putting on tonight?”

“Oh, I haven’t had a chance to even think about that yet.” Then she yelled at the kids. “James, get off that computer and help your sister with the dishes!” In the same breath, she managed to yell, “Tracy, come here.”

I riffled through more clothes. “Haven’t you started getting ready yet?”

“No, I’m waiting for Mitch to get home. He’s running late.”

“I thought he would’ve been home by now.”

Linda continued talking to Tracy. “Hey, babe, can you call your father for me and see what is taking him so long? Tell him don’t forget I’m going out with Auntie Alex. Now scoot, hurry up.” In search of another cell phone, Tracy’s footsteps faded from earshot, presumably to call her father. Linda yelled again, “Tell him Auntie Alex is getting antsy.”

I tried to interject something. “You know we’re supposed to meet Tobey and Karen there by six, and—” I looked down at my watch, “it’s after five.”

“Yes, Alex, I may not be able to
stay
on time but I can
tell
time.” There was a break in the conversation again, most likely Tracy returning with information. “What did your father say?”

I overheard my niece’s sweet voice laced with giggles. “He’s on his way and said to tell Auntie Alex to keep her pants on he’s moving as fast as he can.”

Linda cried with laughter. “Okay, you here that? Mitch is on his way, so as soon as he gets here, I’ll be heading out. It should only take me about fifteen minutes.”

“Did you say what you are wearing? I have two dresses that are ‘might’s’ and a pantsuit. What do you think?”

The weight of Linda’s footsteps could be heard through the phone. A high-pitched animated voice pierced through the phone. Linda had to be in the family room. The kids were interactive with whatever they were watching, laughing and yelling back and forth. “Wear a dress for a change, I’ll probably wear something black. I haven’t been working out lately so I’m feeling a little fat.” Linda paused. “Why do you care what I wear?”

“Because I have lost about ten pounds and I want to wear something fitted to show off my body, but I don’t want to be the only one.”

“Who are you, and what did you do with my sister?”

“I know–it’s time to try something different. I’m feeling good, so why not?” I reiterated my question. “A dress or pants?”

“I think the dress is good, go for it, but you’re on your own, I’ll probably wear one too.” She paused. “So answer me this, Alex, what is the whole goal of tonight?”

“What do you mean, the whole goal?”

“You know what I’m talking about. What’s the
purpose of all of this? If you wanted to see us we could’ve just met up at your house.”

“Busted–”

“Yeah, sister—busted big time. Spill it, what gives?”

“Okay, this is the longest I’ve gone without being in a relationship–” Linda tried to interject, but I stopped her, “—and that’s cool. I needed that time alone. But now I feel confident enough to get back out there.”

“So, again, what’s the purpose of tonight?”

I laughed. “You always bring me right back. I want to meet somebody, and I can’t do that unless I start inching my way back into the game . . . so to speak.”

“And that’s okay Alex. It’s just that if I’m a wingman, I want to know up front.”

“A wingman? Yeah, okay . . . whatever,” I said.

I laughed as we hung up.

A dress would be the glamour-girl outfit of the evening for me. Neither one of the dresses on my bed would add the right
ump
I searched for. My last night on the town as a single person was over ten years ago, but I did seem to recall having more clothes to dress up in than this. Then it dawned on me.
I moved those clothes to the guest bedroom
. Down the hall, in the guest bedroom, I found a timeless little black dress, and thanks to the running workouts, it still fit. If a women’s best revenge is looking good, I’m completely vindicated.

Baby’s officially out of the corner.

The valet attendant opened my car door and extended his hand, a small yet meaningful gesture. I hadn’t felt the tough of another person in a long time. I’m back on memorable ground. The splendor of the hotel personified with every step I took down the red carpet headed for the grant entrance. I marveled at the exterior stone archways and glass entrance, adorned with brass fixtures that glimmered in the glow of the moonlight. The Boulevard, off from the main lobby, patiently awaited the city’s elite.

The dim lighting illuminated the restaurant’s mixture of sophistication and comfort. Groups of beautiful people, seated in chocolate lounge chairs with silver pillows, and fresh flowers sipped cocktails while waiting for their tables. During dinner, a live jazz band entertained restaurant guests. On the lower level a DJ played the latest dance music: rap, rhythm and blues, and pop.

I entered the restaurant and walked up to the reservation desk. The host occupied assisting other guests, gave me a chance to scan the room. I drew in the sights,
and sounds of the restaurant. Despite the length of time, the vibrations and aroma of The Boulevard were just as I remembered. Contemporary art ornamented the walls. My eyes landed on one remarkable drawing of Miles Davis. It was still there. The charcoal sketch reminded me of the time Jake, and I celebrated our one-year anniversary at the restaurant. A slice of chocolate cake drizzled with fudge, and a blanket of fresh strawberries. One fork, and a love for Miles. The host researched the name of the artist for us, and after a few more visits he presented it to us. We reveled in the thought of hanging a piece of our romantic history in our new house. I kept the name and number in my purse for what seem like our entire marriage. In my daze, I made it up to year four of our marriage when the abrupt um-hum from the host brought me back to reality. Our group was on the reservation list for a table in the lower level. A hostess dressed in black escorted me toward the winding staircase to the nightclub. Before heading down I took another glimpse at the drawing of Miles.
It’s a beautiful portrait
.

The décor downstairs was much different from the upper level. The rosewood room and sparkling black floor glistened under the blue recessed lights. Through a collage of tables, the hostess walked me over to where Tobey and Karen were seated.

“Hey, ladies!” I said.

“Hey, Alex, long time no see!” Tobey stood to give me a hug. “You look great!”

I smiled as we embraced. “Thank you! I feel pretty good, and I am so ready to get back out here and have some fun for a change!”

Tobey broke away and returned to her chair. I sat in
the chair directly across from her.

“I feel you.”

I sat in the chair directly across from her. “So, what’s going on?”

“Karen and I were just talking about Keith and the kids—but, never mind all that, let’s get you a drink.” Out of my peripheral vision, I spotted an old friend of Tobey’s at the bar. I thought his name might be Glen or something close to that. I hadn’t seen him in a long time, but he looked familiar.

Karen pointed in the direction of the bar, leaned over the table to me and said, “Do you see that guy looking at Tobey? Tobey do you know him?”

The server arrived at our table. I ordered appetizers for the group and a glass of wine. In the short time it took for the server to take my order the gentlemen at the bar curiosity appeared to intensify. “You know what, Karen? I think I do know him. Tobey, is that Glen over there at the bar?”

“Where?”

“Sitting right there.” She pointed in his direction. “At the bar.” Tobey turned around to look but there were too many people obstructing her view.

Tobey said, “I can’t see. Let me get up.”

“Girl, don’t get up! I don’t want him thinking we’re talking about him.”

Karen said, “But we
are
talking about him.”

I tilted my head and with a hint of sarcasm I said, “Thank you, Karen.”

Tobey cut in. “I couldn’t care less if he thinks we’re talking about him.”

I grabbed her arm but she broke away and headed toward the bar. Karen and I looked at each other, entertained as we helplessly watched Tobey disappear into the crowd.

Tobey disappeared as Linda arrived. I hadn’t seen Linda in a long time and was genuinely glad she’d come. She’d apparently changed her mind on what to wear, because she wore a flattering black pantsuit with a grey pearl chocker. Even though she felt fat, she certainly didn’t look it. At five-three, I’m the tall one of the two of us. Linda’s petite frame flaunted her commitment to athleticism even through a pantsuit. Her usually soft curly locks were converted into straight flowing tresses that hung mid-way down her back.

Linda sat down in the vacant chair next to me. “Where’s Tobey?”

“She’s on a fact-finding mission.”

“A fact-finding mission? What does that mean?”

“Well, see that guy at the bar—in the black shirt?” Linda turned her head but another patron obstructed her view. “I can’t see anybody at the bar.” Before she could finish her sentence, Tobey walked back to the table . . . with the guy in tow.

Tobey pointed to her new companion. “Hey, everybody, do you remember him?” I spoke up first while Linda and Karen looked him over.

“Yeah, I think I do remember you,” I added, a little uncertain, “Glen?”

He smiled. “Actually, it’s Peter.”

“I’m sorry! I thought I might be off a little.”

Peter exchanged pleasantries with Karen and Linda, giving me a quick minute to size him up. Being tall next to
all of us wasn’t a hard feat to pull off, but with that being said, he was still a big guy. From my seat I guessed he stood about six feet, fair complexion, with a strong jaw line and dark features. His build reminded me of the basketball players in college. It was quite remarkable for him to be over forty and still be in great playing shape, which couldn’t have gone unnoticed by Tobey.

Tobey returned to her seat and Peter pulled up a chair from a neighboring table. The server returned with appetizers and my drink.

Peter said, “Would you ladies like something to drink? I see you two have already gotten started.” Tobey had a drink and the waitress patiently awaited another order. Peter asked the server to put my drink on his tab. Linda ordered something and Karen asked for water.

The server appeared irritated.

Karen said, “What’s up with the waitress?”

I enlightened her. “People generally don’t tip from a glass of water.”

“Well I will have to give her my sincerest thank you.”

I laughed. “She would probably prefer your sincerest dollar.”

When the server came back she seemed to be in a better mood.

While they debated on what or what not to drink, I focused my attention toward the dance floor. “I think I want another glass of wine, if that’s all right.”

“Yes, of course,” Peter said. “How about you, Tobey, you getting a refill?”

“You know what? I think I
will
have another.”

“What were you drinking?”

“Vodka and cranberry. Hey, Alex, you need to go to the bathroom?”

I thought for a moment. “Ah, sure, I can go. You want to come, Linda?”

Linda shook her head as a guy approached the table. After a brief conversation, she stood up and followed him onto the dance floor.

I walked past the dance floor toward the bathroom. Tobey, delayed by a lingering conversation with Peter, caught up with me. Out of my peripheral vision I got a quick glimpse of Peter sitting down next to Karen. Once we cleared Peter’s eyesight, I said, “Tobey didn’t you and Peter used to go out or something? He seems nice.”

Tobey said, “Alex, you don’t remember what happened with Peter?”

“I knew I remembered him from somewhere, but I don’t remember anything happening between
you
and Peter at least nothing out of the ordinary.”

She gave me a puzzled look as we slipped into the ladies’ room. “I can’t believe you don’t remember!”

“Tobey, okay,” I said and raised my hands in complete befuddlement. “Why don’t you just tell me what it is that I don’t remember?”

“Okay, remember, I told you I met this guy, and we hit it off?”

Puzzled, I said, “Vaguely. Why would I remember that?”

She made a face. “Well, you
should
remember, because I told you how he just disappeared on me.”

“What do you mean, he just disappeared? He left in the middle of your date or something?”