Christian is getting out of the bathtub when the doorbell rings.
“Dry off and get in your pajamas,” I say as I walk to the front door. I’m counting down the minutes until bedtime and simultaneously feeling guilty about wanting my kid to be asleep already. Mondays are the longest days. Three classes, critique group, and Christian has soccer practice. I’ve been going nonstop all day and I’m so close to blissful silence and handfuls of Goldfish crackers (Those things are addictive!) while I mindlessly watch TV.
I open the door, expecting my neighbor to need sugar or flour or whatever it is neighbors ask for. For reference, none of my neighbors have ever done this, but it’s always what I expect/hope for when the doorbell rings. I’m not awesome at very many things, but I’ve got sugar and flour on the ready.
A FedEx delivery woman stands on the other side of my door holding a box and one of those electronic scanners. “Hi. Are you Katrina Phillips?”
“Yes.”
She pushes the electronic scanner toward me. “Sign here.”
Once I’ve scribbled some semblance of my signature on the screen, she shoves the box in my hands and wishes me a good night.
I don’t recognize the return address, but it was sent same day shipping, so it has to be something amazing. I take the box inside and set it on the counter, delaying the excitement of finding out what’s inside.
I walk around the apartment picking up toys, grabbing the giant carton of Goldfish and a can of Diet Coke and placing it on the coffee table for later, all while keeping an eye on the box as if staring at it will somehow give me some clue what it is.
“Christian, are you ready for bed?”
On cue, he races out to the living room still sopping wet with a towel thrown over his head. “You’re supposed to dry off before you leave the bathroom,” I remind him as I take the towel and wrap it around him and then hug him tightly. “Did you brush your teeth?”
Instead of answering he smiles big showing off his little teeth and giving me a whiff of the minty toothpaste.
“Go get your pajamas on I’m right behind you.”
I steal another glance at the box and follow Christian into his room.
The apartment is small, but Christian has his own room on the other side of the apartment from mine. Per our lease agreement, we can’t do anything about the boring white walls, but his room is decorated with artwork from preschool, pictures we’ve colored together, and a few Hobby Lobby-esque pictures that my mom bought to help decorate his room when he was little.
I help him pull on pajamas and get under the covers, and I lie down beside him on the small toddler sized bed.
“What was your favorite thing that happened today?”
His little face beams and I know he’s already thought of his answer. “Soccer practice.”
“You did a great job. I’m very proud of you.”
“Do you think Dad will come watch me?”
“I’m not sure, but we can call him tomorrow and invite him.”
He nods vigorously. “What was your favorite thing?”
“I had the most delicious lemon muffin today.” I close my eyes and rub my stomach dramatically which makes Christian giggle.
“That’s silly.”
“Alright, buddy. I love you. Get some sleep.”
“Night, Mom.”
As I close his bedroom door, I let out a real sigh, feeling content for the first time all day. I did it. I survived another day. Maybe that seems melodramatic, but motherhood is rough. Going it alone doesn’t make me feel all independent woman and tough. It makes me feel tired and older than I am.
I grab the mystery box and bring it to the couch. I turn on the TV and pull up an old Saved by the Bell episode for background noise before I finally tear into the package.
The first thing that hits me is the fragrance. Peppermint, cedar, and leather. I’ve had months to pick apart the smells of Joel and as I pull away the tissue paper, it’s his scent that floats out with the thin white sheets. I reach in eagerly and pull out two large blue bottles. Shampoo and conditioner?
I hold the bottles in front of my face completely stumped. Why the heck would he send me… Oh my God. When it hits me, I can’t help but swoon a little. One of the first excuses I ever gave him was that I needed to wash my hair. Two points for originality. Flipping the top on the shampoo, I inhale. It smells amazing. This didn’t come from a department store. It looks and smells too expensive. Okay, fine, three points.
Me: Thank you for the shampoo and conditioner this will come in handy the next time I need to blow you off.
Joel: You’re welcome. Also, just a thought, another plan could be you wash your hair, get dressed up and let me take you to dinner? Araceli’s Thursday seven o’clock?
Me: I can’t.
Joel: You really can’t or you’re blowing me off again?
Me: Really can’t. I don’t have a sitter.
Joel: I am sure I could find someone for that.
Me: I’m sort of picky about who I let watch him. He’s only stayed with family at night.
Joel: And family can’t watch him Thursday?
Me: No.
Two long minutes pass and I assume he’s given up.
Joel: Alright then we’re doing this another way. Tomorrow night seven o’clock. Virtual date. You don’t even have to leave your apartment.
Me: Virtual date?
Joel: Details to come. See ya at seven, Kitty.
And just like that, I have a date for tomorrow and a new favorite thing of the day.
“Mom, you look pretty.” Christian stares at me like I have three heads as I walk into the living room where he’s watching The Incredibles. His smile falls. “Are we going somewhere?”
“Nope.”
With a shrug, he goes back to the movie and I’m thankful I don’t have to try and explain why I’m dressed up. If I can’t wrap my own brain around it, I definitely can’t explain it to a three-year-old. What the heck is a virtual date anyway?
It’s twenty minutes until seven. Christian doesn’t typically go to bed until closer to seven thirty, but I pushed everything up tonight to get him into bed before my date.
“Alright, buddy, bedtime.”
When he looks like he’s going to protest, I add, “Three books tonight so go pick them out and I’ll be right there.”
As he runs off, I run a shaky hand through my hair – washed with my new shampoo and conditioner, curled and I even used an old bottle of hair spray that hasn’t been touched since… well, I’m not even sure. I opted for leggings and a shirt that shows off my midriff and hangs off one shoulder. It’s comfortable but sexy.
I gotta be honest I don’t know if a virtual date includes the ability to see the other person. Maybe we’re going to text. I’m torn between the hope that it includes video chat and nervous that if we do, something will go wrong. I can just picture Christian busting into the living room in the middle of my date – that would be awkward.
I grab my phone and take it with me to Christian’s room. He sits on his bed with a stack of books next to him. Way more than three, but honestly it might be better to give in tonight and hope reading in mass quantities puts him to sleep.
Christian is sitting on my lap, head leaned back on my chest when I feel my phone vibrate with a text. We’re on book four, so I do the fast version, skipping unnecessary words and sentences, and then tuck him in. By some miracle, he seems tired and I cross my fingers as I grab my phone, give him a kiss, tell him my favorite thing of the day – him, and head out to the living room.
Joel: Picking you up in five. And by picking you up, I mean I’m going to call you.
Me: Do people still do that? Talk on the phone?
Joel: Only when there’s no other option.
Guilt gnaws and panic sets in. Crap, this is going to be the worst date in all of Joel Moreno’s dating history. That’s a long list to be at the bottom of. At least it’ll be memorable for being the worst. Ugh.
Joel: Can’t wait, Kitty
I press the phone to my chest and smile. He always knows just what to say.
At exactly seven, my phone rings. I take two deep breaths and then answer, “Hello?”
“Hi, Kitty. You look beautiful.”
I giggle into the phone. “How do you know?”
“You always look beautiful.”
Feeling the blush creep up my neck, I divert the conversation. “So, what exactly are we doing on this virtual date?”
“Check your email.”
“My email?”
“Yep, I sent you something.”
I walk to the dining room table where my laptop sits and open my email. There’s something really exciting about seeing his name in my inbox. Seems silly since I’m talking to him on the phone, but as I click on the email, subject Best Date of Your Life, I feel more special than I ever could have imagined.
There’s a link and I click it, praying it’s not porn, and am pleasantly surprised when it takes me to a website to claim my free movie. I attempt to read the Spanish title aloud, “La Val…” My words trail off and I decide to just go for the synopsis which is thankfully in English.
“Now, full disclosure, I’ve never seen it, but my mom said it was super popular when she was young, and it takes place just a little later than your Hector and Imelda story.”
I finish reading the synopsis, smiling ear to ear. “This is amazing.” I can practically hear his grin. Cocky bastard. “We’re going to watch this together?”
“Yep. I’ve got it all fired up and ready to go so just let me know when you’re ready.”
I unplug my laptop and carry it with me to the couch.
“Where are you? At your place?”
“Yep, in my room. Want a visual?”
Heck yes, I do. “Sure.”
A moment later the text arrives. Joel sprawled out on a bed, propped up on the headboard with a laptop on his legs. He’s naked from the waist up and I follow his bare torso down past the chiseled abs and V-cut. I’m mentally undressing him and I’m not the least bit embarrassed until I hear his voice through the speakerphone. “Put it in your spank bank for later, Kitty.”
I close out of the picture. “Spank bank, really?”
“Are you suggesting I’m not hot enough to be used as spank bank material or that you don’t spank the bank. I’m calling bullshit either way.”
“You’re too much.” I shake my head and press play on the movie. “Okay, I’m ready.”
For the next ninety minutes, we watch the movie. There’s commentary on the wardrobes and how the quality of filmmaking has changed, but for the last half of the movie we’re both so glued to the screen, not a word is uttered. Or at least I assume that’s why he’s quiet. Maybe he’s fallen asleep.
I press a hand over my heart and bask in the feeling of awe that few films can pull off. “That was amazing.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but that wasn’t terrible.”
“You picked a movie that you thought might be terrible?” I laugh into the phone.
“Well, I was confident you’d like it.”
That’s oddly sweet. “I did. Thank you. This is the best virtual date I’ve ever had. Also, it’s the only one.”
It’s given me some ideas for my play, and I itch to write, but I’m not about to end our virtual date prematurely.
“And it’s not over yet.”
Butterflies dance in my stomach at the prospect of what’s next. “There’s more?”
“Well, just like a regular date, after the movie you’re more relaxed and open so it’s a good time to talk and get to know each other.”
He continues to impress me with his insight. And he’s right, I do feel more comfortable now.
“If we were on a real date, I’d reach for your hand and we’d walk from the theater down to that ice cream store at the corner of Fourth and University. Ever been?”
“No, but I’ve seen it.”
Joel Moreno is good at romance. I didn’t expect that. I expected charm and smooth moves, but this feels so much more intimate. Personal. A small voice in my head whispers that this is probably how he makes every girl feel.
“What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for a girl?” I ask, needing to know if this is just who he is. Wine and dine, make girls feel like they’re the most important thing in the universe, and then never call again.
I hear him expel a breath. “I don’t know.”
“But you’ve taken girls to the movies before?”
“Sure.”
“And to the ice cream shop after?”
He hesitates, but I know him well enough to know he won’t lie. “Yeah, I have.”
Obviously, I expected this answer. I know all about Joel’s reputation, so it shouldn’t sting to hear tonight isn’t exactly something special. He’s just treating me like he would any other date – well, the virtual aspect aside.
“What about you? What’s the most romantic date you’ve ever been on?”
No way am I telling him it’s this date. Especially now that I know it’s his go-to move.
“Prom night. My father lost his job right before so I couldn’t afford a dress and decided not to go. Anyway, the guy I liked skipped out too, showed up at my house unannounced the night of the prom and we danced under the stars.”
“Why didn’t you just wear a dress you already owned or better yet why didn’t he buy you a dress?”
“Oh my God. That would be your answer. It’s moot. That didn’t happen to me, it was a Saved by the Bell reference.” I groan when he doesn’t respond. God, my life is boring. “Never mind. I guess the most romantic thing someone has done for me is buy me roses. They were a surprise and he sent them to school, so it was like he was publicly declaring his love.”
“Lame. Flowers are cliché.”
“Every guy thinks that, and every guy is wrong.”
“And prom – yours wasn’t romantic?”
“I didn’t go. That part was true.”
“How come?”
I pause and consider how to phrase my answer. “They don’t make prom dresses in maternity size.”
“Ah.”
We’re quiet and I cradle the phone between my shoulder and ear as I pick at a piece of lint on my leggings. Images of Joel in a tux, some beautiful girl on his arm, pulling up to his prom in some ridiculous car, probably a Hummer limo, makes me feel resentful and jaded.
“Practice in the morning?” I ask, checking the time and realizing it’s later than I thought.
“Yeah, guess I should let you get to bed and do the same.”
“I had fun tonight. Thank you for this.”
“It was my pleasure, Kitty. Just one big disadvantage to a virtual date.”
My heart hammers in my chest and I feel like I’m back at my parents’ house talking to a boy and not wanting to be the first one to hang up. “What’s that?”
“I can’t kiss you before I say goodnight.”
“Kissing on the first date.” I make a tsk sound. “I thought the rule was no kissing until the third date.”
“Think we already broke that rule.”
“Didn’t count. It was a non-date.”
He laughs, and I enjoy the warm, rich sound.
“Night, Joel.”
“Night, Kitty.”