amusement and after this,
he’d go on to the next woman and the next and the next, trying to forget his
wife like a bee amidst a field of eager flowers. And all those flowers were
roses, except for Kiki as the humble daisy in the bunch.
Kiki knew she could never displace a woman who was so
important to Jim. And, really, she didn’t want to. She wanted to be herself,
not an analog for a former loved one.
“I didn’t know, Ginny. Thanks for telling me.”
“We girls need to stick together.”
“I suppose so.”
Linking her arm in Kiki’s, Ginny led her to the next
exhibit. “Do you work?”
That seemed like an odd question. “Yes. I’m in PR.”
“How exciting! I’m trying to get into the perfume
business. My father bought me a little perfumery in Aix-en-Provence and I’m
playing with that.”
“In France?”
“Yes, that’s where Aix is, silly.”
Kiki felt a surge of inadequacy. She could barely make
her rent, and here this little pixie woman was “playing” at the perfume
business. “I’ve never been there; I haven’t traveled abroad.”
“Oh, you must go sometime. Maybe Jim will take you.
Oh…I’m sorry. He’s such a short-term kind of guy, planning for the future is
just futile. I wonder what kind of woman will finally get him to settle down.”
The consensus seems to be anyone but me. “I can’t
imagine.” Kiki withdrew her arm, and tightened up the scarf around her throat,
suddenly chilled.
“Where did you go to school, dear?” Ginny asked
genially, seemingly unaware of Kiki’s discomfort.
“U.C. Berkeley.” She was proud of her alma mater, and
her Master’s degree had been hard-won.
“Oh! A public school! How…how…provincial. Poor Kiki.
How did you stand it? I went to Vassar.”
Of course she did. The whole day, and now the evening,
had been exhausting. Kiki felt a wave of lethargy encase her like mucilage.
Fortunately, Jim and Cal returned with food and saved Kiki from having to chat
politely with Ginny much more. Kiki’s status as the poor girl, the disposable
plaything, was now patently obvious to her. She just wanted to go home and have
the night and the whole Jim-experience end.
“You know, Jim, I’m not feeling all that great,” she
said quietly to him when they were alone for a few minutes.
“You do look a little pale, Kitten. Do you want me to
take you home?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, yes.”
He patted her hand where it lay on his arm. “I hate to
see the evening end, but if you’re not feeling well…”
“Well, I think we both know where it was going anyway.”
Absolutely nowhere, to her great disappointment. It was her own fault for
having any kind of hopes.
“It was that obvious?”
She nodded, miserable. He saw it too. That certainly
marked the end of whatever relationship they had. If you could call it a
relationship.
Turning to Cal and Ginny, Jim made their goodbyes and
Kiki did likewise. Within half an hour they were at her apartment.
* * *
Jim was frantic trying to think of some way he could
prolong their evening and open the door to some future dates, but not much came
to mind. He knew Kiki was interested in him, but he also knew—by her
feisty rejection of his money—that she didn’t think they were on equal
footing. Their common likes and dislikes shouldn’t be overlooked, in his
opinion. They were people first, and bank accounts much further down the list.
He knew she was exhausted, that was easy to tell, but
it was only nine o’clock, and he needed whatever time he could get in order to
convince her to give him more of a chance. He wanted to be part of her life.
She’d implied that things were going somewhere, but she hadn’t seemed happy
about it. Those kinds of mixed signals made him wary, lest he make some awful
faux pas.
She didn’t turn him out at her apartment door, and he
came in like he had the right. Maybe she was just too tired for a confrontation
with him tonight. He felt guilty for making his
Learning to Kill: Stories