Call Me! Read Free

As for hers, I’m not overly critical, and I want very much to like her, so I’ll just say she’s a little overweight, and could use some help with hair and makeup. On the other hand, she’s intelligent, pleasant, and available.
     
    “How long have you been divorced?” I say.
     
    I didn’t just blurt that out, we’re actually twenty minutes into the conversation at this point, and the waiter has just brought our salads, and fussed over us with offers of fresh-ground pepper and hand-grated cheese.
     
    Vicky tells me what I need to know about her and Charles: they broke up two years ago, no kids, she teaches fourth grade at a private school, and has her own townhome in Willoughby Commons. She’s dated several men, but nothing clicked because she wasn’t ready to begin a new relationship.
     
    Till now.
     
    As she talks, I mentally tick each item with a checkmark on my list. Vicky’s not bitter or needy. She’s independent, self-sustaining, and ready to move on with her life.
     
    “So…” she says, and I know we’ve come to the tricky part.
     
    “Yes?”
     
    “Tell me about this professor you’ve found for me.”
     
    “He teaches at Clifton State.”
     
    She arches her eyebrows. In a good way. But waits for me to continue.
     
    “His name’s Ben Davis,” I say. “He’s thirty-six.”
     
    She lifts her chin slightly, purses her lips. I know what she’s thinking.
     
    Vicky Davis .
     
    Her eyes widen the slightest bit. I wouldn’t have noticed had I not been studying her so closely. But her eyes tell me Vicky likes the sound of her name with Ben’s, a critical issue, since she’s still using her married name.
     
    “How long have you known Ben?” she asks.
     
    “Seven years.”
     
    “And you still think he’s a good guy?”
     
    She laughs.
     
    I laugh.
     
    “He’s a great guy,” I say. “A true gentleman. The smartest man I know.”
     
    She frowns. “If he’s that great, why aren’t you dating him?”
     
    I bite my bottom lip. “I’m married.”
     
    She instinctively looks at my left hand.
     
    “You’re not wearing a ring.”
     
    “It’s complicated.”
     
    Vicky nods, slowly. She wants to pursue the conversation, but doesn’t want to intrude, or appear too nosey this early in our relationship. Steering the conversation back to Ben, she says, “How many times has the good professor been married?”
     
    “Twice.”
     
    “Oh,” she says, suddenly deflated. She frowns.
     
    “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” I say.
     
    “Tell me why.”
     
    “Well, he’s only been divorced once.”
     
    She cocks her head. “One of his wives passed away?”
     
    My turn to frown. I have to word this carefully. This is the part where I always lose them. I rehearsed it in my head ten times, but it should have been twenty, because the right words aren’t coming.
     
    Vicky says, “Did one of his wives die?”
     
    “Not exactly.”
     
    She frowns again. At the pace she’s frowning, I wonder how long it’ll take her face to develop worry lines.
     
    “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Vicky says. “He’s been married twice, divorced once, and one of his wives hasn’t passed away. Is this a riddle?”
     
    “It can be.”
     
    “Excuse me?”
     
    “Here’s the thing. He’s still married.”
     
    “ What ?” She jumps to her feet.
     
    “Wait. It’s not what you think. Please. Sit down.”
     
    She frowns again. Vicky’s quite angry, but we’re in a public place and people are staring at us. Common courtesy dictates she at least offer to split the check. She knows this, and starts fumbling around in her purse.
     
    “Vicky,” I say, “please. Let me explain.”
     
    She sighs, and reclaims her seat.
     
    “I don’t appreciate your wasting my time like this,” she says. “You can’t possibly think I’d be interested in dating a married man.”
     
    I hold up my hand. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t. But this guy’s special. You can get to know