one who needed a new shirt."
Note to self: Fred owes me a new shirt, I ruined a Ralph Lauren polo for that ungrateful harpy
! "Yeah, well, I was free. And it was fun. I love to shop. And I got three new shirts out of it, too." Dr. Barb had insisted on paying for his clothes, even though he'd dunked his coffee on himself on purpose. And Fred
still
owed him a new shirt. He could have been scalded to death!
"I don't understand how it's possible for a man like you to have a free Saturday. Why haven't you ever settled down, Jonas? Too young?"
He laughed. "You're talking like you're ready for a nursing home. You've only got about fifteen years on me."
Dr. Barb looked away. "Ah—don't remind me. But let's get back to you. Why hasn't someone snapped you up?"
"Well. I've been—I mean, you know, I see people. I get out. A helluva lot more than you NEA geeks, that's for sure."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "I think you should set your goals a bit higher."
He laughed again. "Right, right." The waitress brought him his appletini and a ginger ale for Dr. Barb. They clicked glasses. "To the new, sexy, awesomely gorgeous you, who really isn't new, but now other people will figure it out, too."
She blushed—God, he didn't know women still
did
that!—and they clinked glasses again. Then he resumed the chatter that either irritated Fred or bored the hell out of her, but which the luscious Dr. Barb appeared to find fascinating.
"Anyway, I see people and go out and there's always a party going on and stuff like that, but I just, you know, haven't found that special someone."
"That's amazing to me. You must have people lining up."
"Well… I don't know about that… but I've kind of got a crush on someone. So it makes it hard to want to get to know someone
else
, get it?"
Dr. Barb nodded. "Of course, I understand perfectly. What is that you're drinking? It's the color of lamb jelly."
" Appletini . Try."
She picked up his glass and took a sip, raised her eyebrows, and took another one. "Oh. That's wonderful! I'll have one when I'm not working."
"You're
not
working today, Dr. Barb."
She giggled. Giggled
. He thought it was adorable. He wanted her to do it again.
Maybe if I juggled
? "Oh yes I am. I'm going back after lunch."
"You can't. After lunch we're going to Sergei's ."
"Who?"
"Only the hottest stylist in town right now, booked for months, but he owes me a favor—I introduced him to his husband—so he'll see you. And he'll give you a discount on the cut."
She shook her head and set his glass down. "No, Jonas. No hair cut. No Sergei ."
"But you're so closed to goddess-hood!" he wailed.
"Goddess-hood? Oh, Jonas. We have to stop. You're going to give me a swelled head. Soon I'll forget I'm a middle-aged frump and then where would we be?"
He stared at her. "Frump?
Frump
?" he repeated, incredulous. Okay, maybe that last one was a little loud; the table in front of them turned to look.
"Dr. Barb, when we were in that department store with all the mirrors, did you bother to look in any of them? You're as far from a frump as—as—" He groped for a simile. Or was it a metaphor? "As Fred is from Miss Congeniality."
She reached across the table and took his hand. Took. His.
Hand
! "Jonas, you're so sweet. You've given my ego such a boost, I can't thank you enough. And I'm thrilled that you see me that way, really I am, even if I can't quite make that leap myself. Now, you've done so much for me I'd like to do something for you. Tell me about this crush you have. Maybe we can get you hooked up, as the kids say."
Oh. Gulp
. "Well… I've known this person for years but haven't really screwed up the courage to get to know them very well. I can hardly even be in the same room—you know how it is."
Dr. Barb nodded. "Now, Jonas, you listen to me."
"Sterner."
She looked puzzled, but raised and hardened her voice. "Now, Jonas, you listen to me." He got all tingly when she used her schoolteacher voice. "You are a wonderful
Note to self: Fred owes me a new shirt, I ruined a Ralph Lauren polo for that ungrateful harpy
! "Yeah, well, I was free. And it was fun. I love to shop. And I got three new shirts out of it, too." Dr. Barb had insisted on paying for his clothes, even though he'd dunked his coffee on himself on purpose. And Fred
still
owed him a new shirt. He could have been scalded to death!
"I don't understand how it's possible for a man like you to have a free Saturday. Why haven't you ever settled down, Jonas? Too young?"
He laughed. "You're talking like you're ready for a nursing home. You've only got about fifteen years on me."
Dr. Barb looked away. "Ah—don't remind me. But let's get back to you. Why hasn't someone snapped you up?"
"Well. I've been—I mean, you know, I see people. I get out. A helluva lot more than you NEA geeks, that's for sure."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "I think you should set your goals a bit higher."
He laughed again. "Right, right." The waitress brought him his appletini and a ginger ale for Dr. Barb. They clicked glasses. "To the new, sexy, awesomely gorgeous you, who really isn't new, but now other people will figure it out, too."
She blushed—God, he didn't know women still
did
that!—and they clinked glasses again. Then he resumed the chatter that either irritated Fred or bored the hell out of her, but which the luscious Dr. Barb appeared to find fascinating.
"Anyway, I see people and go out and there's always a party going on and stuff like that, but I just, you know, haven't found that special someone."
"That's amazing to me. You must have people lining up."
"Well… I don't know about that… but I've kind of got a crush on someone. So it makes it hard to want to get to know someone
else
, get it?"
Dr. Barb nodded. "Of course, I understand perfectly. What is that you're drinking? It's the color of lamb jelly."
" Appletini . Try."
She picked up his glass and took a sip, raised her eyebrows, and took another one. "Oh. That's wonderful! I'll have one when I'm not working."
"You're
not
working today, Dr. Barb."
She giggled. Giggled
. He thought it was adorable. He wanted her to do it again.
Maybe if I juggled
? "Oh yes I am. I'm going back after lunch."
"You can't. After lunch we're going to Sergei's ."
"Who?"
"Only the hottest stylist in town right now, booked for months, but he owes me a favor—I introduced him to his husband—so he'll see you. And he'll give you a discount on the cut."
She shook her head and set his glass down. "No, Jonas. No hair cut. No Sergei ."
"But you're so closed to goddess-hood!" he wailed.
"Goddess-hood? Oh, Jonas. We have to stop. You're going to give me a swelled head. Soon I'll forget I'm a middle-aged frump and then where would we be?"
He stared at her. "Frump?
Frump
?" he repeated, incredulous. Okay, maybe that last one was a little loud; the table in front of them turned to look.
"Dr. Barb, when we were in that department store with all the mirrors, did you bother to look in any of them? You're as far from a frump as—as—" He groped for a simile. Or was it a metaphor? "As Fred is from Miss Congeniality."
She reached across the table and took his hand. Took. His.
Hand
! "Jonas, you're so sweet. You've given my ego such a boost, I can't thank you enough. And I'm thrilled that you see me that way, really I am, even if I can't quite make that leap myself. Now, you've done so much for me I'd like to do something for you. Tell me about this crush you have. Maybe we can get you hooked up, as the kids say."
Oh. Gulp
. "Well… I've known this person for years but haven't really screwed up the courage to get to know them very well. I can hardly even be in the same room—you know how it is."
Dr. Barb nodded. "Now, Jonas, you listen to me."
"Sterner."
She looked puzzled, but raised and hardened her voice. "Now, Jonas, you listen to me." He got all tingly when she used her schoolteacher voice. "You are a wonderful
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