Reinventing Mike Lake (20 page)

              “I’m really sorry that you aren’t interested, I think we would have had a good time.  I better get back to work.  Thanks for your time, love.”  As she got up, her hand brushed way up my thigh, surely by design. 

              “You should start painting again,” was all I could think to say as she walked back towards the stage.

              She turned around with a smile and said, “I’ll think about it,” before slipping out of her slinky dress and climbing the stairs to get on the stage. 

              Jen came back and said, “I see you made a friend,” while pushing her stool closer to mine and laying her hand on my thigh, mimicking the behavior of Misty.  She may have been joking, but I was much happier with Jen’s hand on my thigh than Misty’s.  When Jen left her hand there, I wasn’t complaining.

              After telling Jen about my conversation with Misty, she asked if I was ready to go.  I said I thought that was for the best, as I made a look towards Misty.

              Jen said goodbye to Ashley and made customary plans to “see you again soon.”  Ashley smiled a knowing smile at me.  I nodded at her, and heading out the door, Jen leading me by the hand.

              On our way out Misty, having just finished her dance routine, caught my eye from the other side of the bar and said, “I thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend,” but her smile didn’t suggest she was particularly mad at this development.

              “I guess I got lucky,” was all I could think to say to her, feeling embarrassed that I had lied to my new stripper friend.

              “Yeah, yeah,” was all she said as she turned her attention back to her new friend, an older gentleman at the bar who seemed a lot more interested in her than I had been.

              I am lucky, I thought, as Jen whisked me out of the door.

31

              When we got in my car I asked her what she wanted to do next.  It was still fairly early, at least by Vegas standards.  I told her I didn’t really know what to do, and that she was the expert.

              “You want to come back to my place?”

              This was a surprise because she had never asked if I wanted to go to her place before, nor have I ever asked.  I had picked her up and dropped her off at her house before, but never invited myself in. 

              “Sure, that sounds good.”

              We pulled up to her high-rise apartment building just a block off The Strip about ten minutes later.  I drove to where I was used to picking her up, but she told me to swing around to the opposite side and let the valet take care of it.  This was the first time I would ever be going to someone’s house that had valet.  I thought that was cool, but decided not to bring that up as I learning those things were expected in Vegas.

              I was nervous about going up to her apartment because I wasn’t sure what she had in mind.  I even secretly wondered if her trip to the strip club had turned her on.  Or maybe even Jen seeing me with another woman, even if it was a stripper, had made her a bit jealous.  A million thoughts crossed my mind as we entered the elevator.

              “What, no elevator man?”  I asked jokingly.

              “Nope, the valet is going to have to be good enough.  Oh, and 24 hour security.  Also, there is tennis on the roof if you want to get a set in?”  Apparently she had picked up that I was both impressed and surprised about the valet.

              We walked in and her apartment was gorgeous.  The layout was a square, which included a kitchen with a bar on one side, and a small electric fireplace in another corner.  Everything in the apartment was very contemporary and sleek.  Her television was in a built-in entertainment unit that included bookshelves that were filled to the brim.  In front of the books were pictures of what I suspected to be members of her family. 

              “Would you like a drink?” she asked, as I was getting a closer look at the photos.

              “Sure, thanks.  I’ll have whatever you are having.”

              While she went to make the drinks I looked at the pictures on the bookshelf.  I noticed an older couple that had to be her parents because they looked just like her, especially her mom.  I could see that she got her looks from her mom as well.  Her frame came from her dad who was thin, but appeared to be muscular.  On another shelf was a group shot of a family on a big wrap-around porch in front of a big house.

              Jen brought our drinks and sat on the couch, kicking off her shoes in the process.  I sat next to her and she snuggled closer.

              “Did you have a good time tonight?” she asked.

              She smelled amazing, or the apartment smelled amazing.  I hadn’t noticed this in the car.

              “Yeah, I made a new friend and got to hang out with you,” I said, laughing.

              “Well, I was just hoping to give you a real Vegas experience before you move on to the next town.”

              I wanted to tell her that as long as she was around I wouldn’t be too eager to “move on to the next town,” but instead said, “I thank you for that,” while setting my drink down on her glass coffee table.

              I think she was waiting for me to do that, because in almost the same instant, she set down her glass and moved even closer to me in one motion.  She nestled her head under my neck.  I thought she was just going to stay there, but then she kissed my neck.  I recoiled slightly, which I hoped she didn’t notice because like her kiss on my cheek in my doorway a few weeks before. I was enjoying it, despite my natural response.

              “Is this okay?” she asked.

              “Yes,” I said, though I didn’t know if I was telling the truth.

              She kissed me up my neck and onto my lips, our first kiss.  At first I was hesitant, a million thoughts running through my head, among other places, but I kissed her back.  After a few minutes of this she began to unbutton my shirt and swung her leg over me and sat on my lap.  At this I began to freak out.

              In my head, I wanted to just gently place her back on the couch, but instead I was a little more forceful than I had anticipated.  After apologizing for nearly throwing her on the floor, I spoke again.

              “I’m really sorry, I can’t do this, it’s just that I’ve never…”

              “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”  I saw some disappointment in her eyes, but she also gave me her smile that seemed to tell me that it was okay, or at least, will be.  After a few tense moments, neither of us knowing what to say or do next, I spoke.

              “I really like you.  I mean really, really like you, but I’m just not ready yet.  I know my problem is more than tonight, but tonight has been so weird for me too that this doesn’t feel right.  An hour ago I was at a strip club and now I’m here with you and…”

              “I understand.  I’m sorry; we don’t have to do anything.”

              The last thing I wanted her to do was feel like she had to apologize, which led me to apologize.  After a few more minutes of awkward apologies I figured it was best if I just left.

              “I still want to see you again if that’s okay.”  I don’t know why I said that but I felt like I was pleading with her to give me another chance without actually saying those words.

              “I would certainly hope so.  I want to see you again soon.”

              Her words instantly made me feel better.  Her look was sincere.  While I knew this would probably be a setback in our relationship, I felt relieved it wouldn’t be an ending to our relationship.

              As I headed home, I thought in my head that the only woman I had slept with other than my wife my entire adult life was Bahama.  That thought started off as a joke in my head but slowly turned into dread.  I literally said out loud to the empty car, “Yeah and it will stay like that if you aren’t careful.”

32

              After another night in the loving paws of Bahama, I woke up to face the day.  I didn’t sleep well that night, contemplating the call I would have to make.  Around the time the sun started going up I finally fell asleep.  I had dreams about Jen kissing me.  Usually this would have been a great way to spend the day sleeping, but all the dreams ended with me throwing Jen off me, and in a particularly interesting sequence, with my wife breaking through the wall, Kool-Aid Man style, wondering exactly what was going on.  I woke up before I could explain.

              There would be no art conversations with strippers today, as I decided I would put in a good writing day, or at least try.  I found multiple excuses to keep me from writing.  I always seem to let more serious matters marinate in my brain for a day, a month, a year, or even two. 

              Late in the day I had thought about calling Jen, but conveniently put it off long enough to know that she would be at work.  I had hoped she would call me, but it was for the better she didn’t because I didn’t know what to say if she had called.  The next day was Saturday, and I knew she would be off the whole day, so I told myself if she didn’t call by a certain hour I would call her.

              Fortunately for my nerves I didn’t have to spend the entire day wondering what I was going to say to Jen when I called.  Around 9 a.m. while still lying in bed, my phone rang.  It was Jen.  After a sleepy hello from me, Jen began talking.

              “I want to apologize for the other night.  I probably came on a little strong, and I should have asked you more about how you were feeling.  I also shouldn’t have come onto you just after leaving a strip club, but I have to let you know that I would have done that no matter what we had done that night.  I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you, but if I came off like that I’m truly sorry.”

              I was still waking up so it took an extra second to comprehend everything she was saying, so I decided to start with what came most simply to me, for my sake – something I should have said a couple nights ago before leaving.

              “I never want you to think that you have to apologize for that, or anything else.  I’m flattered that you would want to spend time with me like that.”  After a few moments of pause I figured she expected me to keep talking, so I did.

              “I have to admit that hanging out at a strip club and then going back to your house and making out had crossed my mind as an interesting choice of timing and that may have contributed to me freaking out a bit , but I should have known, and I do know, that you aren’t like that.”  When she continued to be quiet on the other end, I spoke again, not knowing exactly what she wanted to hear, but began thinking I had a good idea.

              “I wish I was telling you this in person, but here it goes.  I really loved my wife; she was the only girl – woman – I ever loved.  Now everything I do with a woman – you – I only have to compare to my wife.  I know I shouldn’t think like that, but it’s what I’ve been struggling with as I get to know you.  In many ways, many of the things I’ve been doing with you are like I’m doing them for the very first time.  I also know that I really like you and that if I want to continue seeing you and getting to know you that I can’t keep comparing everything happening now with everything that once was.” 

              After another moment, she finally spoke, the tears coming through.  “I’m coming over, is that okay?”

              “Of course.”

              When she arrived about 20 minutes later, giving me just enough time to bathe and rid myself of morning breath, she walked in.  I could tell she had been crying, but it appeared to be lightly, and not a heavy sob.

              “Are you okay?”

              She hugged me, and didn’t let go for a while.  When she let go she kept holding onto my hands, and said “You’re so sweet.  I never expect you to stop loving your wife, and I would find it weird if you did.  If you could find a way to give me a piece of your heart next to her I would like that very much.”

              I leaned into her, and kissed her.  I remember thinking that in a perfect world this is what our first kiss would have been like, but quickly tossed aside that idea.  No, this was perfect regardless of which kiss it was.

              For the first time in my life, I took the initiative with a woman.  From our standing position we moved closer to the bed, and I laid us down gently.  At first Bahama thought this was a game that she hadn’t been invited to, but after a few more minutes of neither of us paying attention to her, she got the drift, sulking off the bed and on to her makeshift bed on the floor. 

              The next half an hour or so, time was a blur, but a blur of pure ecstasy.  I remember hoping I was doing well, but not really caring because I was enjoying the moment too much to let my mind get wrapped up in the details.  When we finished I did something I remember only seeing in the movies and wondering how they ever did that.  I rolled over and fell asleep. 

              When I woke up I was instantly embarrassed that I had fallen asleep and was going to say something to that effect, but when I rolled over Jen was gone.  I had thought she had left, and began feeling a mix between anger and bewilderment.  It was the first time I had ever made love with someone other than my wife, and she knew that and was just going to leave?  Before I could work myself up too much, I heard her speak.

              “You really loved her, huh?”  She was at my desk in front of my computer.  She spoke again.

              “I hope you don’t mind, you had this up and I just started reading it.  You are an amazing writer.  Is this a book?”

              In my past I had hardly let anybody read what I wrote, but for some reason this didn’t anger me.  Perhaps I was still relieved she hadn’t left.

              “Those are just things I’m trying to write to remember her memory.  I waited too long and some of it has slipped away, but I couldn’t have done it any sooner.  Every time I tried I could never get anything out without getting too emotional.”  Jen smiled at me, but before she said anything I said in a joking tone, “My journal is on there too if you want to read it.  There’s some interesting stuff about you in there.”