When Paige finally reached me, I was ecstatic, but pissed at the same time. How was she able to reach me if she was trapped in the water? Regardless of the answer to that conundrum, what pissed me off the most, you ask? The fact that she was laughing maniacally at me – almost as if she’d intended for this to happen.
“It’s not funny, Paige! I’m about to die here and all you can do is sit around laughing your ass off. Now do something! I’m stuck in quicksand!”
This is the part where Paige informed me that I’d unknowingly stepped into the marsh. I was confused. How could this be the marsh when the ‘marsh’ was clearly outlined by the WATER line about seventy-five feet from where we stood. Surely, Paige was mistaken.
“What do you mean I’ve walked into the marsh? I thought the marsh is where you were standing.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, it is, but marshes tend to extend out a little farther and you can’t really tell because of the grasses.”
It all became perfectly clear at that moment. I was going to die and the swamp was taking my $300, Italian leather, mahogany lace up loafers with me. Two things occurred to me at that moment: Paige set me up to die and the swamp apparently had very good taste.
After a few seconds, which felt like a few hours, Paige was finally able to conclude her ‘let’s laugh at the poor stranded and most likely dying best friend’ marathon. She reached down and tugged on my right leg. The swamp wasn’t letting go of its hold, but my friend Paige acted like the badass that she is and pulled my leg out of the mouth of the beast that was trying to consume me. My heart leapt with joy when I heard the unmistakable pop and groan of the muck when I’d been busted free, but then – THEN – I noticed the unthinkable. My shoe had been left behind. It was eaten, lost to a void of gunk and goo and everything disgusting about the natural wonders of Florida. I couldn’t help it, I shed a tear. Regardless of my pain, I pulled my shoulders back and thought like a soldier – no man would be left behind.
“Those were $300 shoes! You need to reach down there and get it, Paige!”
(David Note: I could have volunteered to do the reaching myself, but as previously disclosed, the swamp had a taste for fashion. And I was nothing if not fashionable. Obviously, it had released Paige from its grip due to the utilitarian clothing choices she wore almost daily. Normally, I considered that a bad thing – however, given the present circumstances, it was advantageous.)
Instead of diving in to rescue my little lost soldier, she tugged at my left foot. Once again, she was able to free my appendage, but another little $150 soldier got left behind.
I scoffed and that’s when Paige did the unthinkable – she questioned my footwear. Clearly, my friend did not understand the importance of a well put-together look.
“Sorry, David, but that was a really dumb decision on your part. I think you should really consider your footwear better while planning out your day.”
Consider my footwear. That was her advice? I had considered my footwear! It was elegant and a little bit rugged at the same time. Those shoes were gold! They could have been worn with jeans, but also with a casual business look. The stitching was flawless and the tread was just thick enough to provide decent padding and also good traction in cases of inclement weather. I’d considered those shoes for a whole twenty minutes before buying them. What the fuck did she mean that I should consider my footwear?!
“Shut up, Paige! You’re really not going to get my shoes out of there?”
“Nope. Consider them buried. I can say a eulogy if that would make you feel better.”
Antonio and Maurice (yes, I name my shoes) were presently trapped within an evil abyss of mud, and muck and water and dirt and all Paige could offer me was a eulogy? What kind of eulogy would they receive? She didn’t understand what we’d been through. The day I’d bought them, the day I’d first worn them and they didn’t cause a blister – the impressed look Matt had on his face when he’d seen them in the diner. Those guys had been through so much with me. I’d be damned to allow her to give the eulogy, the boys deserved better than that.
Lowering my head, I began. “They were a good pair of shoes and they will be missed.” I looked up into the Heavens knowing their little shoe souls had to have been flying up as we spoke. “I remember the first day I walked past the window that contained those shoes…”
Paige laughed…again…the heartless bitch. “Give it a rest and come on. We have to get home, it’s getting late.”
(David Note: You’re probably wondering how this scene has anything to do with how I was the real hero of the Control series. Sadly, if I have to explain it, you must be as disabled in the realm of fashion as my friend Paige. Despite her attempt at killing me, I survived. She was the siren to my sailor and I forgave her anyway. I sacrificed SHOES for her. That fact right there is the mark of a true hero.)
Chapte
r Three
“He’s a man after my own heart.”
The next morning was rough. I woke up at my normal time, fought the blasted coffee maker after Annie and Paige drank every last drop of the pot originally brewed, and then I came into my room to shower and get dressed. I flung open the doors of my closet ready to take on the world, only to notice the small spot on my shoe rack where Antonio and Maurice had previously perched. The other shoes looked confused, lost to the knowledge that their friends had been destroyed. A loud sigh rattled through my chest and I grabbed a black pair of loafers before making my way back into my bedroom.
Pulling the shoes on, I considered all the ways I would get even with Paige for her lack of concern over my footwear, but then my phone vibrated against the wood of my bedside table.
I didn’t recognize the number, so I assumed it was paparazzi calling to discuss the sordid details of my loss. “David here.”
“Hey, uh, Hi, David? This is Matt.”
My heart jumped into my throat and I tapped out a little happy dance around my room, before sitting back down, clearing my throat and reassuming the position of a serious adult who had not just pranced like a little girl to discover that sexy, southern man-meat was calling little ol’ me.
“Matt? Matt?” (I had to keep him guessing. And yes, he’s looking at me funny while typing this. I’m not concerned, my later thoughts in this story will more than make up for it.)
“Oh yeah! Matt! From the diner, right?” I was playing it cool and I could tell by the few seconds of silence that followed that he was mesmerized by my charm – or considering hanging up. (that last part was added by Matt – I’m sure he didn’t mean it.)
“Yeah…uh, I was wonderin’, um, well, you see, I have tomorrow night off and I was thinkin’, well, um…”
It was cute that he couldn’t get the questions out. I considered saying nothing and allowing him to stumble over his words just so I could keep listening to the shy little southern accent serenading me over the phone, but unfortunately, there was no time for that.
“You were wondering if I’d be available to spend the evening by your side?” What can I say? I’m a giver.
“Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what I was wonderin’.”
It was adorable. He had no ‘g’ at the end of any of his words that included the ‘ing’ suffix.
“I don’t know, Matt, I’ll need to check my calendar.” Quickly I rustled through useless receipts that were scattered over my bedside table to make it sound like I was an important person. I mean, I am an important person, but I didn’t have my calendar available and it would have been rude to make him wait.
“Wow. Lucky you. It looks like I happen to have a cancellation for tomorrow night and I’m available.”
Matt laughed a shy laugh. “Well, good. Would you like to meet me somewhere or…”
“Tell you what Matt; why don’t we plan on meeting for dinner at this little French place downtown that I adore and we can decide from there how we’ll spend the rest of the evening? Why ruin perfection with planning, right? Let’s live for spontaneity.”
“Uh, sure. I guess. That’ll work.”
He was impressed. I could tell by his inability to form a complete sentence. People LOVE spontaneity. After planning a time to meet and giving him the address to the restaurant, I quickly ended the call, not wanting to appear too anxious to spend time with him. Dating is hard. There are rules that need to be followed and if you’re lucky enough to get a good one on your hook, you don’t want to reel them in too fast for fear of breaking the line.
. . .
I was nervous while I waited on the sidewalk outside of the French restaurant. Matt was running a few minutes late and I fluctuated between annoyance that he wasn’t punctual and being impressed that his little southern self could pull off fashionably late. I was about to give up and go inside because I didn’t want to look like I was too eager. I turned to open the door and saw him strutting up towards me. He looked dapper in his loose jeans and fitted button-down, black shirt. His hair was perfectly styled into a messy frame for his face and I smiled so brightly, I may have blinded him had the sun been shining.
“Matt! Wow, what timing! I just got here myself. And here I was worried to keep you waiting.”
He smiled back at me. “Yeah, I was havin’ trouble findin’ parkin’. I thought I saw you standin’ on the corner when I circled around about five minutes ago, but if you just got here, I guess I was mistaken.”
“Yeah, no. Wasn’t me.”
It was totally me.
“You ready to head inside? I’m starving.”
Matt nodded and I opened the door for him before ushering him inside. The hostess stood at the podium and her eyes widened to see Matt. She stumbled over her words while greeting us and then stumbled over her feet while showing us to our seats. Matt didn’t seem to notice and I laughed it off. The girl was barking up the wrong tree entirely, but it was cute to see her so captivated.
We looked over our menus and discussed the ingredients for most of the dishes. Matt didn’t seem too impressed and I worried that I’d chosen the wrong venue. However, I enjoyed a selection of food, from multiple countries, and especially when it involved good coffee at the end of the meal. I wasn’t sure I could date a guy who couldn’t explore with me and who would end up stunting my growth.
“Did you want to go somewhere else? I think there’s a burger place down the street.” Our entire relationship hinged on his answer to my question.
He looked up with his twinkling green eyes. “No, actually. I like to be adventurous every once in a while.”
I loved him.
“I mean, yeah, normally, I’m the meat and potatoes type of guy, but I see nothin’ wrong with broadenin’ my horizons. Plus, it’s a French place. I bet the after dinner coffee is outstandin’.”
He was amazing. Absolutely, one hundred percent perfect and amazing. I didn’t even care that he couldn’t pronounce his ‘Gs’, I mean, who needs ‘em?
“So, tell me about yourself, David. I don’t know much more than the fact that you have a pretty interestin’ friend and that you don’t like mango wheatgrass smoothies.”
My cheeks reddened. “You figured that out?”
Matt laughed a deep baritone chuckle and my insides vibrated at the sound. “Yeah, we clean our own tables.”
“Oh.” I felt bad and my mind instantly went back to memories of the sad little mango wheatgrass napkin tree that I’d left on the table with the tip.
“So, why are you waiting tables? Let me guess, you’re putting yourself through medical school or law school.”
Please, please, please, please, please, please, please…
His hand reached up to brush through his messy, godlike hair when he responded, “Not exactly…”
Crap. He’s a loser.
“I’m putting myself through cosmetology school.”
Strike that…he’s a man after my own heart.
“Really? Wow, I bet that’s a tough profession.”
His chuckle rattled me again. I was already falling for the guy and we hadn’t even started our appetizers. “Uh, believe it or not, it is. I thought it would be as easy as cuttin’, stylin’ and makeup, but they make you learn the ins and outs of chemistry as well. I never realized it could be so complicated.”
“How’d you get into it?”
He smiled and his dimples popped out at me. I may have swooned in my chair. “Six of my siblings are younger girls and I had to help my mom out in the mornings gettin’ them ready for school. I actually didn’t mind coming up with new braids and whatnot to style their hair. Watchin’ YouTube videos helped when they got older.”
His cheeks burned with embarrassment at his confession and I couldn’t have loved him more. “Wow, six younger sisters. Must have been chaotic.”
“Not really. I love kids and I didn’t mind helpin’ my mom out. My dad took off on us when we were young and I became the man of the house in his place. My twin sister helped…”
“Wait!” My hands went up to stop him in his tracks. “You have a twin sister? Identical or Fraternal?”
I didn’t realize I required salt with my shoe with the absurdity of what I’d just asked. So, when his eyes batted at me, I thought he was impressed that I knew the difference between the two.
“Uh, David. She’s my sister, think about that for a second, would ya?”
I nodded. He’d given me a riddle. Sister…sister….oh.
A shy laugh escaped me. “Ha. That would be my bad.”
His dimples appeared yet again and my eyes shot to them like magnets. They really were remarkable. “It’s not a problem, I won’t hold it against ya.”
Appetizers arrived, followed by dinner and dessert. By the time we were enjoying a hot cup of coffee, I’d learned more about Matt than I knew about most people. I couldn’t help myself. He was so different. He was a southern gentleman trapped inside a fashionable body. If Heaven ever sent down the perfect man for me, it was the one sitting in front of me.
I paid the bill after a five minute back and forth over who got stuck with the tab. He put up a pretty good fight, but ultimately I won. I wish I could tell you it was my excellent skills at debate that won the game, but no…it was good old sneaky maneuvering. Basically, I waited until he went to the restroom to grab the bill, pay it and return to the table before he got back.
Standing outside the restaurant, we looked deep into each other’s eyes as we both fought the fact that the date had ended. I loved that he was so shy because it left an opening for me to go charging in like the bull I am. I was taking the man by the horn – whether he liked it or not.
“Would you like to meet up again? Tomorrow night, maybe?”
Matt nodded and smiled. He had the straightest, most beautiful white teeth and I couldn’t believe I’d found him in a crappy diner downtown. This guy deserved to be on billboards and magazine covers. “Yeah, that would be cool. What do you want to do?”
My body bounced up and down with excitement. “Why don’t you come over to my place. I have some roommates that you’ll need to meet in order to continue dating me.”
“Why? Do they have to give their approval or somethin’?” His eyes shone with mirth and little light bursts occurred as he blinked his eyes.
“Uh, no. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
He chuckled like he didn’t believe me. “I’m sure they’re not that bad.”
He had no idea.
I wanted to go in for the kiss. His gorgeous, full lips stood in front of me like a tease. I’m not sure, but I think he may have been kryptonite to my David charm. I was bumbling over myself and not completely sure how to carry on the conversation. I was self-conscious. This guy was doing things to me that I’d never before experienced.
We stared awkwardly at each other for a few minutes. Finally, not being able to take the awkwardness any longer, I lifted my arm to wave goodbye, but then, magic happened. He grabbed my hand, pulled me into him and planted the softest, sweetest kiss on my lips. My entire body sagge
d into him and I may have lifted my foot. It was that perfect.
When he pulled away, I stared at him with my jaw hanging down and I believe my eyes were probably crossed. He reached up and patted me softly on the cheek.
“Everything alright?”
“Yes.” My voice was far away but satisfied. Snapping out of the wicked spell he’d weaved, I pushed myself back into an upright position. “I’ll text you my address tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll love my friends.”
He waved and walked away and I hightailed it to my car to go to the grocery store. The apartment was dis-gus-ting thanks to Paige’s kung-fu marathon where she’d spent the day tossing popcorn at the bad guy on the screen and I’m sure Annie would be too busy with Logan to clean up.
Oh shit! ANNIE!
I completely forgot that I had to get back to the apartment. Paige put me in charge. I was supposed to babysit Annie’s first date with Logan and I thought I’d only be gone for a little while. I was going to be in trouble. I looked at my watch and hightailed it home.
Chapter Four
“Details!!”
I’d spent the better part of the morning shopping for cleaning supplies before heading back to the house to allow my inner domestic goddess to shine as brightly as the newly polished wood. Throwing on my best June Cleaver apron, I danced the broom around the apartment cleaning up the little bits of food, dirt and other miscellaneous grime my roommates had graciously left in their paths. I swear. If it wasn’t for me, this apartment would be condemned in no time. Paige was bad about bringing bits of nature back with her when she returned from her trips to see her parents and poor Annie couldn’t eat without leaving a trail of crumbs in her wake. It was like living with Hansel and Gretel.
I had the 80s music blasting full volume as I straightened and buffed and polished every visible surface of the house. Matt was coming over tonight and there was nothing – NOTHING – that would screw it up.