Katherine
“Sorry, sorry!” Robin apologies after almost knocking a waiter down. With her cheeks flushed, she makes her way toward me, and I notice the expression on her face. To say it is dark as storm clouds is an understatement.
“What are you doing?” She demands, her attention entirely on Dale.
He raises an eyebrow in pretend shock.
“I though this is a free country and anyone could eat here. Am I mistaken?”’
Robin hates pretentious assholes and that is exactly how Dale sounds. I also know she hasn’t forgiven him for cheating on me.
What’s worse than a best friend out for vengeance? I pity Dale, and my thoughts are racing to come up with a way to diffuse the situation.
“And I thought assholes were not served at this fine establishment.”
Dale curls his hand into a fist and takes a step toward Robin.
“Try it, sunshine, and you’ll be sorry.”
I’m desperate to come up with something. I hate a scene in public and I don’t want my friend to get hurt. I draw a blank.
“What are you going to do, shorty? Bite my knee caps?” Dale makes one of his smug smiles that makes you want to punch him right between the eyes.
Robin straightens her shoulders and stands on her tippy toes.
“Don’t tempt me.” She hisses at him and Dale laughs a metallic laugh.
“You’re so short you’ll probably not even reach those.”
I see Robin take a step toward Dale and it only makes him laugh harder.
“You know what Dale? I’m just the right height to grab your dick and balls and slice them right off. Your scrotum would make a great accessory for one of those gay guys over on Seventh Avenue.”
Obviously some of Robin’s words have an impact. Dale has taken a step backward.
Someone taps me on the shoulder.
“Your table is ready, Katherine.”
Relieved, I drag Robin away from the seething Dale.
As we make our way to our table, I hear Dale say something about no longer wanting to eat at a restaurant that gave their best table to a feral woman and her sidekick.
No one takes any notice of him. Out of the corner of my eyes I see him leave, the poodle following obediently.
After I take a sip of the complimentary champagne, Robin bombards me with questions.
“What did Dale say to you? How are things between you and Blake? How’s the painting coming along? Is he really as good in bed as they say he is?”
As the bubbles dance across my tongue before sliding down my throat, I relax and feel a little better. I managed a chuckle.
Words, Katherine, they are only words he used, I try and tell myself. It’s not working.
“Which question do you want me to answer first?”
Robin rests her head in her hands, elbows on the table.
“Tell me all about you and that hunk of a man Blake.”
I’m not sure where to start. It’s a bit public to tell all about the sex we’ve been having. And generally, we don’t really discuss the sex we’ve been having.
“Why were you late?” I ask to buy a little time.
I notice how my best friend goes a little red in the face.
This is unusual.
“I lost track of time,” she mumbles and picks up her own glass to take a sip of the cool liquid.
Ever punctual Robin lost track of time? I can’t believe it.
“You never,” I start, but she interrupts me.
“Just tell me about you and Blake.”
I make a mental note to interrogate her further about this allegation of losing track of time, but oblige her request and start talking about Blake.
“You know,” I take another sip of my drink. “He’s really a brilliant artist. He captures his subjects in the perfect way. Colors perform the way he wants them to.”
Robin is grinning.
I stop talking.
“What?” I don’t recall having said anything amusing.
“You’re in love.”
“Am not.” I protest and am pleased a waiter is bringing our entre.
I take a forkful of steamed fish, which melts in my mouth. Delicious.
“Do you make the same sound when he kisses you?”
“Stop it.” I growl at my best friend.
“Oh Blake don’t stop, please give me more.” Robin coos and we both laugh.
“Stop it. You’re so cruel. We’re just–” I stop midsentence. I realize I’m not sure exactly what we are.
“You’re in love with Blake.” Robin shrugs. –And who can blame you. I mean he looks the complete package. God-like. Unlike Dale, who is a poor excuse for a man.”
I’m tempted to defend Dale out of habit, but then I recall his words from earlier and stop myself.
“What’s wrong?” Robin asks.
“Nothing.”
“Come now Kath, it’s me Robin, your best friend not some stranger.”
I sigh. She has a point.
“It’s just Dale said Blake discards his models like other men discard their underwear. And,” I hesitated; “and I think I do really like him.”
There I’ve said it. It is out in the open.
“For starters, what does it matter what loser Dale has to say? Second you’re in love with Blake. And third, how do you know he does not feel the same way about you?’
“I don’t.”
She points her fork at me.
“See what I mean? From the way you’ve described the painting, he’s done it for you as a work of love. Not to mention, he gave a promise he not to display it. I’d say he’s got feelings for you. I’d say Blake’s in love with you.”
I shake my head. I wish I could be that confident. Dale’s words bounce around my head like an out of control basketball: everyone knows he fucks all his models and discards them once he’s painted them.
“Kath. Earth to Katherine.”
Robin’s voice brings me back to the present.
“Sorry. I just can’t help thinking about what Dale said. Maybe I should run before I get hurt, again.”
“Stop it. Stop thinking about what Dale said. He’s a loser. Of course he’s trying to rattle your cage.”
I nod.
“I just don’t know what to do.”
Robin looks me straight in the eyes.
“Look, baby cakes. You just have to trust. Trust that this is the right one. Falling in love is like jumping off a cliff and hoping you don’t crash land.”
Robin raises her glass and I do the same.
“To love.”