Chapter 2
After lunch, I’m more flustered than ever. Michael is great. He’s funny and charming...and as much as I really hate to admit it, he’s a pretty smart guy. I don't know him well enough to admit it, but for now, I'd have to bet that he‘s just one of those guys that is a perfectionist.
As if it isn't enough that he’s gorgeous, it feels to me as if he wants his mind to be his sharpest tool. We talk politics, current events, jeez, we even argue about the intricacies of Freud's approach on psychology. I love psychology, and I figure maybe the jock has some skeletons in his closet. But I’m wrong. He responds without hesitation to my not-so-subtle inquisitions. I am trying to probe his mind; to find out if he’s just another pretty face. But the deeper I probe, the more fascinated I become. He knows his stuff, and he knows it well.
We agree to meet at Jack's Place later that evening after my shift is over. I'd gone over it with Jack, and he was ecstatic to find out I was actually going through with it. So Jack lets me leave Michael inside the restaurant, having some drinks and whatnot, while I go home, get showered and inform dad of the evening's plan. Of course, we will have to go out of town to find a decent place to eat at that hour, but Michael is completely fine with it.
I know everyone talks about the "honeymoon phase" and all, but I really am feeling comfortable with Michael. He kept me challenged intellectually, which I need. It's been forever since I had someone I could relate to. And yeah...he wasn't so hard on the eyes either. But, I'm getting way ahead of myself. I sigh as I open the front door to my house, only to sigh again when I see dear old dad passed out in front of the television, drink in hand. Poor Dad. He must have worried himself sick from me not returning his phone calls and decided to wait for me here.
I take the bottle away from him and help him lay on the couch, all the while second-guessing myself on whether giving him a key to my house was a good idea or not. I make him as comfortable as I can before I head upstairs to get ready. Throughout the refreshing shower the same two options flash throughout my head: do I go for sexy or sensible? Do I even know what sexy is?
"Heck with it," I complain aloud as I look through my closet. "I'll wear what I want to wear and that'll be the end of it. If he doesn't like it, he isn't worth my time.”
It occurs to me briefly that maybe I’m going a little overboard with this whole date thing. Just a tad, though.
I rush out of the house as quickly as possible and make my way back to what should probably be classified as my real home, Jack's Place. After all, it feels like I spend more time there than anywhere else. I unlock the front door with my keys and look around the bar.
To my shock, Jack, who is rather protective of me, is playing darts with Michael and Roy. And they seem to be having a great time. What the hell is this guy, a magician? He cleans up real nice too. As I examine his outfit, I can't help feeling underdressed. Only thing he’s missing is a tie. He doesn't need one, either.
"Oh, hey you," Michael says as his eyes match mine. "We cleaned up and thought, why not, you know?"
"You he-helped clean up?" I stammer
"The thing of it was, darlin'," Jack begins as he takes his cap off to scratch his head. "We had some trouble with the Baker boys around closing time. Michael was here, and he helped calm the situation down. It was nothin', really.”
I stare at the three men furiously. "Jack, how many times have I told you to kick those damn Bakers out of here before they get ornery?! You know they make for some mad drunks!" I yell in frustration. "What'd they wreck this time?!"
"Take it easy, Lizzy," Roy says as he places his hands up in front of him, trying to soothe me. "You had already left. You know Pa ain't going to let you in on something that could had gotten ugly. Besides, like Pa said, everything went fine.”
"Seriously Liz," Michael assures with his commanding voice. "All the punks did was try to knock over the pool table. They were just a bunch of guys that don't know when to put the bottle down. Jack and Roy told me all about them. Anyone can have a bad day.”
I look at the pool table, fearing the worst. But it hasn't moved. What…? "The pool table. It hasn't even been moved.”
"Well, the thing of it is, Michael was quick to get them boys out of here," Jack explains as he looks at his son and then back at me. "He made a mad dash to the table, set it down, and then picked up those three like newborn pups and tossed em' out!"
"Yeah, we were behind the counter," Roy continues. "There wasn't really anything we coulda done. But man, your boy Michael carried those jokers out of here like they were angry squirrels.”
Michael bows his head to conceal his toothless smile. Only the right side of his mouth grins, but it was enough. The boys had had some fun, all right.
"You got the Bakers out of here, by yourself, while they were drunk? And managed to save the billiard table also?"
Michael looks back up at me, this time with a full smile. "Well, pool tables are expensive and hard to come by.”
I scoff and shake my head and turn to head outside. "If we're going to eat, let's go already," I announce, mildly irritated. "It's past midnight and we still have to drive a while.”
Michael looks at Roy and Jack and shakes their hands before following me outside. He’s patient, that much I can't deny. I know I wouldn't have put up with my outburst like that.
"Did I anger you?" I hear Michael ask as the door closes behind him. I turn to face him, not expecting to see worry on his face. So he wasn't so suave after all, huh?
"The Baker boys will be back you know," I explain with a deep breath. Least I can do is be civil. "And you won't always be here to pick up the mess they make. Besides, what if they end up acting like the kids they are and find you in a back alley somewhere? It's not like we're in short supply of shadowy corridors around here.”
"Thanks," Michael says with a reassuring smile, his confidence returning. "I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself.”
"So you'd like me to think.”
"Where are we going, anyway? Like you said, this might be a party town because of the university, but it is after midnight.”
"Ah Mikey," I reply knowingly. "I might not get out much, but I do know what makes a party town a party town. It's not what's in the town, it's what's around it. We have all sorts of things we can do. There's a bar about twenty miles south of here that serves food up until four, even though it's a weekday. Or, if you'd rather catch a movie or play skeeball or something like that, we can go up north about twenty-five miles or so, give or take.”
"Skeeball, huh?" Michael replies with a smile as he bites his lips. "That's one way to paint the town red. Been a bit since we ate. You hungry?"
I nod, trying desperately to not give any more clues away.
"Twenty miles from here..." Michael thinks aloud to himself. "You're talking about Franco's, right? Just off the expressway, near the lake?"
"Yeah, didn't think you'd know that much already," I admit candidly. "I thought you were just going to be here for a semester; how do you know about Franco's?"
"A gentleman has to have his sources," he says with a bow as he motions to his car. "Hop in, or we can take your car. Whatever you'd like.”
Here’s Michael, this really tall, muscular guy, and he totally has this vibe about him, this tough guy thing going on. I ’m expecting a big SUV or like a really loud and annoying motorcycle. But I’m looking at a dark blue sedan that must have been from the 50's. Totally not what I was expecting.
"What? You don't like it?" Michael says with a furrowed brow, obviously disappointed. "I'm into old cars...I like to buy them and rebuild them as best as I can. It's great exercise too, believe it or not. Plus, things were just really classy back then, you know?"
I pause as I stare at him. My smile slowly forms before it turns into a full out laugh. I fail miserably at composing myself. Michael looks genuinely hurt.
"What? What is it?"
"I was totally expecting you to be in this red or bright yellow gas guzzler. A
nd you show up in something from six decades ago?"
"What's wrong with the classics?" Michael asks as he tilts his head to the side and scratches his face.
"Nothing, really, nothing at all," I say honestly. "It's just…you’re so not what you make yourself out to be! You walk into Jack's like a boxer or some James Dean wannabe. I was expecting at least a motorcycle. You're just...you're really different. You're kind of a weirdo.”
"I'm the weirdo?" Michael says as he frowns and purses his lips. "That's interesting. Coming from someone called Elizabeth McBeth. I think you're just sore you lost twice to me today. Or is it that you just can't handle a car that's not digital?"
"Oh no...you did not...just," I run at him laughing, and punch him in the chest playfully. He smiles at me and looks down at me as he holds me in a hug. This is nice. Very nice. I push myself away from him before I blush myself to death. "It's my dopey way of trying to compliment you. I'm sorry.”
"Sticks and stones, right?" Michael says as he opens up and the passenger side door, waiting for me. "That is, if you'll still go with me?"
I smile and nod as I make my way to his car and sit down. A gentleman? That probably won't last long. He makes his way to the driver's seat and starts the car. I immediately notice that the car has a modern radio and speaker system in it. That couldn't have been easy to accomplish.
"I thought you liked the classics?" I kid as I point at the flashy radio system.
"Well, I'm not exactly in the stone age, either," he answers with a smile and a turn of his head. "Some of the stuff after 2000 was good. But my true love is good rock-n-roll. It tells a story, you know? Some of that you can find in the 90s, but you mostly have to go down from there.”
"Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that.”
"What? Why's that?"
"You wear a black leather jacket. Who wears those anymore?" I ask jokingly as I take a look at the back seat to see it right there, probably staring right back at me if it could.
"Hey, it's a jacket," Michael says as he smiles and points his finger to his back seat. "And don't get on me about my jacket. I love that jacket. It gets cold up here. Besides, it was my father's.”
Sensing I had hit a sensitive issue, I sidestep the disaster that could have been and continue with the chitchat. We continue discussing our musical tastes all the way to Franco's. Mike really surprised me with his musical tastes, even though some of his favorites were so easy to tell just by the clothing he wore, namely the leather jacket he was so quick to defend.
When we finally make it to Franco's, there is a huge line, even though it’s pretty late. Michael walks right up to the bouncer, who is now a man of below average size in comparison to Michael, and the bouncer actually opens the door for us. The bouncer even thanks Michael for coming in. I must have missed a bribe or something there. We make our way to the corner booth and take our seats.
"I'm not drinking, so you can if you'd like," he says to me with a hint of a joke coming on. "That is, unless you feel like you don't want to drive my car back.”
"Oh, ha ha," I shake my head, mocking irritation. "For your information, I'm not twenty-one yet. So, technically I can't.”
"Really?" Michael says as he places both his elbows on the table. "You're saying you've never drank? Anything?" I shake my head, now as embarrassed as humanly possible. "Wow," Michael says as he eases back into his seat. "That's really impressive. Good for you. I figured a beautiful girl like you would be out at all the parties, getting it out of your system. Interesting ,though.”
"Please..." I begin to say timidly. "I don't go out, really. I mostly read and watch movies when I can. And cut it with that 'beautiful girl like you' stuff. To quote a classic movie, 'I bet you say that to all the girls.' Don't you? I’m sure that’s what all guys say, but it won’t work on me. Understand?"
He smiles and shakes his head in disbelief. "You're something else," Michael announces. "You really have me at a loss. You are really interesting Ms. McBeth. And...no, I do not say that to all the girls. As far as what other guys might say...well, don't ever let anyone tell you anything different. You're really beautiful, I mean it. I don't lie, it's a real strict policy of mine. My father instilled it in me when I was—"
"Michael!" a man screams, interrupting Michael's story. Damn it. "It's been ages!"
The man goes right up to Michael and has to reach up to hug him. This guy has to be in his forties at least, looks rather short, but then again, everyone looks short next to Michael. Either way, damn him for interrupting the juicy story!
"I can't believe you've brought a lady friend here!" the man continues as he now turns his gaze to me. "Wow, and what a looker! I didn't think you were interested in anything other than work!"
"Liz, this is an old friend of mine, David Petrolos," Michael explains. "He's the owner of this sleaze shack.”
"We're not such good friends that I won't kick you up and down this fine establishment, Michael!" David argues jovially. He extends his hand and I present my own rather reluctantly. I'm still fuming about the interruption.
"You look great David," Michael says with a smile and a wink.
"Not half as good as you Michael!" David says before turning his attention back to me. "You know, you have no idea how happy I am to finally see Michael with a young lady. It's always work, work, work with this guy!"
David might have interrupted Michael's story, but he’s just given me a big piece of information. Maybe even the reason why Michael is single. If he works so much, no woman would want to be with a workaholic, right? Or am I grasping at straws? And if David and he are such old friends, how is it that Michael has only been in town such a short amount of time?
"Liz?" Michael whispers softly to me. Even his whisper demands priority over the loud music of Franco's ambiance. I snap out of my trance. "You all right? You just kept staring out into space when David was talking to you.”
"I'm sorry Michael," I confess awkwardly. "I just don't understand. You're only in town for a semester, right? How do you know David so well? An old friend?"
"Yeah, those are expressions," Michael answers sarcastically as he begins to squeeze the lime in his water glass. "We use them all the time here on Earth. For example, 'I could eat a horse' does not literally refer to me eating said horse.” He smiles at me and chuckles. I fling my lime at him in frustration. Maybe I was looking too much into it. And besides, there are so many things worse than being a workaholic.
Right?
The evening is even better than lunch. I really open up to Michael, even going as far as admitting I love martial arts. Problem is, I'm about as dexterous as a drunken elephant on roller-skates. He promises to help me with that. I chalk that up to first date talk, but he shows me pictures from his house on his phone. He’s a pretty accomplished martial artist, it seems. That would explain his physique.
It seems the more I learn about him, the better he gets. And that truly scares me. Good things don't usually happen to me. I’m terrified.
After dinner we say our goodbyes to David and the bouncer, who is a real sweet guy, and Michael lets me drive back to Jack's Place. I can tell what he meant about the difference in driving a classic. I'd rather take a modern car any day, though.
When we pull up at the parking lot of Jack's, there is my reason to be afraid. My trademark bad luck streak has proven itself true again. The Baker boys are there, and they have trouble on their minds. Michael leaps out of the car to his feet before I even finish parking the car.
"Call the police, now," Michael says calmly as he throws his dinner jacket into the car and heads towards the Bakers.
The oldest Baker brother, Ira, steps right up to Michael. He always was the dumbest.
"You got the stench of a privileged city boy all over you!" Ira screams with a finger to Michael's chest. The other two brothers begin circling around Michael to surround him, but Michael doesn’t seem concerned. "All you did was take advantage of three smaller guys than you, whilst they was dr
unk! You call yourself a man?!"
"And what would you propose would make me a man?" Michael says as he looks around. "Winning a three-on-one fight? Would that make me a man in your eyes? We don't have to fight. I'd prefer nonviolence; these people have been real good to me. I don't want to betray their hospitality.”
I sprint towards the feuding group as soon as I finish informing the police and Jack about what’s going on. "Ira, come on now, you know this is only going to make things worse for everyone," I plead sincerely. Inside, my heart is begging Ira to not ruin my evening further. "Michael’s right. You guys don't have to fight. Where's the sense in that?"
"She's right Ira," Michael agrees immediately. "If we fight, I could get hurt, or you or your brothers could get hurt. There's no need for any of this. What do I have to do to make things square? I can buy you a couple rounds, would that make you feel better?"
"Michael, huh?" Ira says mockingly. He spits at Michael's feet and looks up at his chin. "I bet you have a glass jaw, city boy. Is that why you're so pretty? You buy your way out of fights?"
"Just trying to be civil, that's all," Michael replies calmly, his hands raised up peacefully. "I especially don't think we should act this way in front of a lady.”
"Lizzy?! A lady?!" Ira says as he snorts out a loud laugh, looking at his brothers. "Word around town is Lizzy doesn't like boys at all. Would rather be with a book anyhow! That's not a lady!"
I watch as Michael begins to clench his fists tightly. He’s getting angry, and it doesn't seem like he is intimidated by the obvious disadvantage he has in numbers.
"If I were you, Ira," Michael says coldly with a deathly calm, "I would apologize to Liz right now and walk away. Make yourself hard to find for a bit. That's the friendliest advice I can give you.”
The Baker boys begin to dance and stomp on the ground like playground thugs. They are acting like children, but Michael remains extremely calm. Too calm for a person in his situation.
"Alrighty then Mike, that's what we'll do," Ira says as he reaches way up there to place his hand on Michael's shoulder. "We're going to apologize and walk away. But first, I gotta have something to apologize for.”
Ira grabs Michael's shoulder and drives his right hand into Michael's gut before backing away. Michael stands firm and unfazed; he merely moves his head around and cracks his neck.
The Baker boys seem more than a little shocked at this point, and decide to run for their truck. I mistakenly think it is over, but all they do is bring construction equipment from their flatbed. Ira is holding a nail gun, his two brothers a wrench each.
I've had my share of fights to break up, but this is on a totally new level. People could seriously get hurt here, or maybe worse. As I take a step towards the Bakers, I feel Michael's firm yet gentle hand stop me as he pushes me softly away. Before I know it, I’m backpedalling just to avoid falling from Michael's insane strength. He really doesn't know his own power.
As soon as I realize I am lost in my own thoughts again, the fight is over. It literally could not have taken more than two seconds. The Bakers are on the floor and Michael has stashed the nail gun and wrenches back on their flatbed.
The police arrive shortly after and then Jack shows up a little later. What a night. The Bakers are arrested for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, trespassing, and public drunkenness.
They’ve ruined my perfect night.
I don't hear from Michael for quite a while. Not a phone call, not a visit at work. At first, I think it’s just the ordinary guy routine, playing hard to get or whatever. But after a week and a half, I figure it out.
Michael just can’t handle my baggage and the baggage that came attached with Jack's Place.
I want to hate him but I can't. Who wants to go on a second date when the first ended in an interview with two police officers in the back of a squad car?
So much for happy endings...