Lighting Candles in the Snow (11 page)

Although I wasn’t as full as I wanted to be, there was no more junk food in the house. Except peanut butter which counts in a pinch. I dipped my spoon into the jar, making sure to get plenty of the chunky nuts. Too bad I didn’t have any chocolate chips to add to it.

After months of dieting, it felt good to let go and eat with abandon and get really full on fat and sugar. Except that my system wasn’t used to the fat and I began to feel sick to my stomach. I went into the bedroom, tossed the journals that had landed on the bed onto the floor and lay down, pulling the quilt halfway over my head. I wondered briefly if I might be sinking into a permanent state of depression. I had no time to ponder that question, because I promptly fell asleep.

When I awoke, it was dark outside. I went to the bathroom for a glass of water, stripped down to my underwear and crawled back into bed to sleep through the night. But first I promised myself that tomorrow I’d box up the old journals and take them to the basement storage room. Enough was enough.

The Best Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich

¼ cup chunky peanut butter

¼ cup jam of your choice

2 tbs. real butter

2 slices thick home-style white bread

Spread peanut butter on one slice of the bread and butter on the other slice. Spread jam over butter side. Close together and enjoy. Best eaten alone, while standing over the kitchen sink.

Chapter Twelve

S
uzie set up a dinner for Saturday night with Zac Kline, the snowboarding friend of Rob’s. They planned it at a local restaurant rather than in their home which can be a madhouse, kids around of every age group, not one bit conducive to two hopeful singles meeting for the first time.

The four of us would gather at the Left Fork Grill, an obscure-looking diner on West Temple that has the best food in the valley. The owner used to be a chef at The Roof, a classy restaurant at the top of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building downtown, before he left to open his own place. There’s a menu at the Left Fork Grill, but you don’t want to miss checking out the chalkboard as you go in. It has the specials, or whatever the chef felt like whipping up that day.

Saturday night there’s always prime rib. As I stepped inside the warm and cozy diner I saw bleu cheese and pear soup on the chalkboard. Hmm, interesting!

Rob and Suzie waved me over from a booth. I strained to see if anyone was with them, feeling butterflies about meeting this man, wondering what on earth had possessed me to agree to a blind date. I approached the booth where they sat together on the same side. They were such lovebirds.

Rob stood to greet me. “Zac’s not here yet. I just got a text from him. He’s on his way, about ten minutes out. He’s coming down from Park City so he has a way to drive.”

“No problem,” I said mildly. I slid into the booth across from Suzie, leaving plenty of room for Zac to sit next to me when he arrived. “I’m nervous,” I whispered to her. “Do I look okay?”

It was March, the weather still quite chilly, especially at night. I had chosen a tan turtleneck sweater that matched my hair, pairing it with jeans and black, high-heeled boots. I had left my hair down and curled at the ends for a softer look. I wore large, silver hoop earrings and a thickly twisted, silver chain at my neck.

“You look fantastic,” Suzie gushed. “Goodness, Karoline, I haven’t seen you in makeup for ages. It’s about time, I would say.”

Perusing the menu, Rob commented, “Everything sounds so good, I don’t know what to try. Since the board says prime rib, I’ll go with that.”

“Looks can be deceiving, can’t they?” I waved my arm toward the lunch counter with its plain bar stools and slices of pie on display in an enclosed case. “You have what appears to be an ordinary grill where regulars might come and order fried eggs for breakfast, hamburgers for lunch and meat loaf and mashed potatoes for dinner. One would never guess that a five star chef is hiding back in the kitchen, whipping up masterpieces every night.”

“Until you try the food,” Rob added. “Then you go ‘Whoa! Who’s running this place?’”

I ruminated over the menu. “I think I’ll choose from the blackboard specials. The prime rib, of course, and I want to try that bleu cheese and pear soup.”

As I closed the menu and set it down, I noticed a tall blonde man with a wide, friendly smile approaching us. He had white, straight teeth, a muscular yet slender build, like a runner, and long legs. This must be Zac. Very nice, I thought with satisfaction. I smiled back at him.

“Hey,” he greeted and slid into the bench next to me. “I’m Zac.” He smelled like soap, no aftershave or cologne. I liked that. Reaching across the table, he shook Rob’s hand, then nodded to Suzie. “Rob, Suzie, hi. Good to see you again. It’s been awhile.”

Rob did the introductions. “Zac, this is Suzie’s sister, Karoline London. Karoline, Zac Kline.”

Movie star eyes turned to me with a sparkle. He grinned and showed those fabulous white teeth. It was March, but he was as tan as if he’d just returned from a month in Florida.

“Hi, Karoline. I’m Zac. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Zac,” I said, hoping my voice came out normal.

I felt tremendously nervous. Since college, the only man in my life had been Jeremy. It was weird being on a date with someone else, like I was cheating on my husband. It didn’t help that Zac was extremely good-looking.

I simply would not think of it as a date. I was out with my sister and brother-in-law, period. They had invited their friend along. No big deal. I relaxed a bit and managed longer eye contact with my handsome non-date, and another smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” Zac said, twisting position slightly to face Rob and Suzie.

I felt the heat of his thigh next to mine, barely touching. I cleared my throat and tried to focus on the conversation.

“You know what traffic is on I-80 in the canyon, even on a Saturday,” Zac was saying.

“No problem. We haven’t been here that long,” Rob assured him. “Long enough to get comfortable and decide we want the prime rib.”

“Sounds good to me,” Zac agreed. “I’m ready to order when you are.”

What is it about servers that they know exactly when people want to order? Ours showed up in an instant with her note pad out, materializing out of thin air.

We ordered our food and sat back with our drinks to make small talk. Suzie and I had water with lemon. Rob got a root beer and Zac a Coke. I wondered if he drank alcohol. Not being a drinker myself, and recalling how Jeremy went alone to bars, or private clubs as they’re called in Utah, I hoped that Zac didn’t drink. It was at the bars that Jeremy would find trouble. I liked that Zac ordered a soft drink right off, without asking about the wine list.

Many restaurants in Utah don’t serve alcohol. They need a special permit, because the liquor laws are strictly controlled by the state. Grocery stores can sell beer but not wine or hard liquor, which are sold in state-run liquor stores. In a restaurant you have to order liquor by the drink, but you can order wine by the glass or bottle and beer in bottles, cans and on draft, but only if the restaurant has a full service liquor license.

It’s complicated, and different from the norm in other states. The only reason I knew anything about it was due to Jeremy. He complained about the liquor laws and blamed the Mormons because he couldn’t get a vodka tonic whenever we went out to eat. Unless it was a place with a full-service liquor license and those are hard to come by.

It’s not that Jeremy was an alcoholic, but he liked to de-stress at his favorite private clubs. Okay, maybe Jeremy was an alcoholic. Who knew what was blended in with that mass of addictions he had going for him.

I glanced over at Zac, who was laughing at a joke Rob told about a guy trout-fishing with a Catholic priest and a Mormon bishop. Zac had a nice laugh, a good build, and he smelled clean. If he asked me out, I would go. I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him again. Zac was hot, no question about it.

When our food came, we dug in and enjoyed it without a lot of talking, except for praising the chef. The bleu cheese and pear soup tasted incredible, smooth with a hint of tartness. Decadent. It came in an exquisite small bowl. Good thing, because it was creamy and filling and I wanted to save room for the prime rib.

Our entrees were huge servings, seasoned to perfection and unbelievably tender.

Zac ate fast and then sat back waiting for the rest of us to catch up. He pulled out his cell phone to check messages or whatever, but put it down when Rob finished his food and said, “This is my favorite restaurant, no contest.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” Zac agreed, with one last peek at his phone before sliding it back in his pocket. “I don’t usually like prime rib, but that was better than any I’ve had. I’d order it again.”

The waitress stopped by to see if we needed boxes and if we wanted pie for dessert. “Our pies are made fresh every morning. Anyone having dessert?”

We shook our heads, groaning in satisfaction at how full we were. I had finished my prime rib, but Suz needed a box for hers. I guessed the prime rib was a ten ounce serving of meat, easily a thousand calories. I would never lose the last five pounds at this rate.

Rob offered to pay for everyone. Zac refused. “I’ll pay for myself and Karoline,” he said.

Very gallant of him, I thought. Good-looking
and
well-mannered.

After dinner, we gathered in the parking lot to say our goodbyes before heading to our different cars. Rob and Suzie made sure they left first, to give Zac and me time alone. I knew exactly what those two were up to with their subtle matchmaking techniques.

“We better get back to the kids,” Suzie said. She gave me a quick hug, whispering, “Have fun and be good” before grabbing Rob’s hand to lead him firmly toward their car.

Rob and Zac shook hands again. To me, Rob winked and said, “Bye, Karoline. Drive safe.” And he and Suz were off.

Zac leaned toward me with a pleasant but questioning expression. “So, Karoline. Where do you live again?”

“In an apartment house on Ninth East, over by Trolley Square. Not that far from here actually.”

Pause. Was he waiting for me to ask him over? Sure, why not? I said, “Do you want to come over? It’s still early. We could watch a movie, or just talk or something. You know, get better acquainted.”

“Thanks, that’d be great. Since I live in Park City, I don’t really want to turn right around and drive back.”

“Okay, sure. Want to follow me then?”

I hoped this was the right decision. Lately I’d doubted myself and my choices. But it felt right and it was high time I broke free from the past and met someone new. Besides, I felt comfortable with Zac now that I had lost that initial sensation of cheating on Jeremy. This could be fun—a new friend, a new adventure.

Chapter Thirteen

M
y place was ten minutes from the restaurant, giving me barely enough time to calm myself in preparation for entertaining a very attractive man. I had no clue where this evening would go. It had been a long time since I’d been alone with a hot prospect, basically a lifetime ago. I met Jeremy when I was twenty-two and since then had eyes for no other. That was about to change. Not that I wanted to go to bed with Zac. I’m not a slut after all and generally have maintained the no sex on a first date policy.

I had a good feeling about Zac. He seemed interested in me, he was cute, and there had been no warning signs or turn-offs during the two-hour dinner. He didn’t talk with his mouth full or pick at his face. He hadn’t made snide comments about how much I ate, or ignore me when I spoke. He didn’t monopolize the conversation or on the other hand, be unnervingly quiet. Except for that one time when he politely waited for the rest of us to finish our meals, he hadn’t checked his cell phone. And he had not tried to duck out of paying.

I knew men who did all this and more, somehow managing to hit thirty without learning basic social skills. Yet they couldn’t figure out why they were still single. I had a feeling Sheila’s nephew might be one of these. Or perhaps it was just my prejudice against Wyoming. Anyway, now that I had met Zac, I could exaggerate our relationship to Sheila and use him as an excuse for not getting set up with her nephew.

I’d slyly observed Zac while he talked to Rob and Suzie, and decided he was a nice, normal guy of above-average intelligence. I clearly noticed interest on his part. I sensed a spark between us.

I parked along the street in front of my building, Zac pulling in behind me.

“My apartment is on the second floor,” I said in an apologetic tone, thinking of Sheila’s complaints about having to climb the stairs.

“No problem,” he said and followed me up. Oh right, being an athletic snowboarder, why should Zac care about a steep stairway?

I was uncomfortably aware that it gave him a chance to check out my still oversized butt, but I couldn’t make him go first, leading the way to my place where he’d never been before. That would have been too obvious, like I wanted to check him out.

“Here we are,” I said cheerily, as I unlocked the door and pushed it open.

I showed him around—the small kitchen with an adjoining dining area that doubled as an office, the bedroom and bath, and the spacious living room with its row of tall windows looking out to the street.

Zac admired the hardwood floors and high ceilings. “You have some sweet architectural features,” he pointed out. “I like the crown molding. You never see it done like that on modern homes. Does the fireplace work?”

“No, it’s been bricked up. Still, the mantel makes a nice place to display photos, doesn’t it?”

Mine were mainly of Suzie’s kids, except for one shot of her, me and our parents taken last fall when they came out to visit before their trip. None of Jeremy. Those remained hidden back in the bedroom, top dresser drawer.

Zac and I settled on the sofa in the living room until I remembered my manners and jumped up. “Let me get you something to drink,” I offered. “What would you like?”

“Depends on what you’ve got.”

He leaned back against the sofa and stretched out his long legs.

“Mostly diet drinks, no juice,” I replied, glad he hadn’t asked for alcohol.

“You’re not one of these skinny girls obsessed with your weight, are you?” He took me in appraisingly.

I laughed nervously at the close attention. “Well, I’m certainly not a skinny girl, and I’m not obsessed with anything. I had a few pounds to lose after my, um, my divorce, and I’ve been watching my calories.”

“You look fine to me.” His eyes moved slowly over my figure, making me uncomfortable. “Don’t lose any more weight. You’re exactly right.”

“Thank you, that’s always nice to hear. I think. Okay, what will it be, Diet Coke or Fresca?” Then I remembered. I did have wine, might as well offer it to him. “Oh wait. On second thought I do have a bottle of white wine, if you’d like that. I don’t drink, except sometimes a glass or two of wine when I’m out socially. I forgot I had it.”

“Sure, that would be nice. But only if you’re having one, too.”

“Okay,” I said, and excused myself to find that bottle Jeremy and I were supposed to share the night of our anniversary dinner.

It was at the back of the pantry. I opened it and poured it into two wine glasses, which lately I’d been drinking my Diet Coke from to make me feel special. I cut up an apple and a pear on a small serving plate and added six slices of sharp cheddar cheese. I carried the plate of fruit and cheese in first and came back for our drinks. I left the bottle in the kitchen. If Zac asked for more, I’d get it and pour him another; I wouldn’t bring the bottle and leave it on the coffee table like I planned to make a night of it.

After settling back on the couch, I smiled happily at Zac, feeling relaxed and content. “This is nice. I haven’t had company for a while. Thanks for coming over.”

He held my look for a long moment. Zac had a striking smile, with those straight white teeth against his tanned skin. His blue eyes, the color of the summer sky, sparkled at me.

“Thank you for inviting me. You have a warm and cozy place here, comfortable and relaxing.”

“Yes, I really like it. I’ve lived here since I first came to Salt Lake. Except that, since I’m unfortunately unemployed at the moment, I spend more time here than I should.” I couldn’t hold his gaze. My eyes wandered around the living room and finally settled on the framed pictures arranged on the mantel.

Hi Mom, hi Dad. I miss you.

Zac took a sip of wine. “Yeah, that’s tough, being out of work, but only if money’s an issue. Personally, I hoard my free time to allow me to do what I really love.”

“Skiing?”

“Snowboarding. In the spring and summer I put in long hours so I can afford to take time off during the prime winter months.”

“What do you do again?” I asked with curiosity.

This was pleasant. The two of us chatting, sipping on our drinks and getting to know each other better. It felt good to make a friend.

“Website design. My own business with two partners. Three ski bums, who cover each other to keep things going year round.”

“That sounds like a good arrangement.”

There was a pause. Zac took a drink and set his glass on the coffee table. I didn’t know what else to say about his job and his passion for snowboarding. I felt inadequate since I no longer had a job and lately my only passion had been hating Jeremy London. I couldn’t very well talk about that.

We had discussed the apartment, our jobs or lack of. Next up: the weather. “You like it when it snows, I take it?” I asked.

He nodded. “Oh, yeah, winter’s my favorite time of year.”

“Not me. I like summer. The hotter the better. I can’t stand being cold.”

Enough of this weather talk, what else was there?

I should
not
have said the hotter the better. Zac must have taken it as a come on, because he moved in closer to me. Uh oh, I didn’t feel ready for this. What now? I picked up my glass and took a sip.

“You are a beautiful woman, Karoline. I was surprised when I saw you at the restaurant.”

“Why is that?” I asked somewhat breathlessly, taking in his scent. Soap blended with athletic manliness. A very pleasant scent.

“Blind dates don’t normally go well. It’s my policy to avoid them.”

Another nervous laugh. “Me, too. Susie and Rob talked me into it. I guess they felt sorry for me.”

“What? Sorry for you? Nah. You must have men swarming to go out with you. You’re very attractive. Sensual. You are sensual, Karoline. The way you move. The way you eat.”

Zac leaned in and moved a hand to my back. I could feel his breath on my neck. I set the glass back down, allowing me to move away and get a moment. He kept rubbing my back as I did.

“The way I eat? What do you mean by that?” Had I inhaled my food? Did he just call me fat?

As I straightened back toward the couch, Zac put his hand in my hair and pulled my head gently toward him. “Some women act like food is their enemy. Not you. Seeing you tackle that prime rib at dinner. God, it was sexy.”

I licked my lips, feeling a warm sensation starting up. He really was hot. Did I want to kiss him? Instead I laughed again, a silly nervous chuckle. “Are you kidding me? I do enjoy food but I never thought of eating as sexy. And be careful how you talk about me tackling the prime rib.”

His hand moved down from my hair to my neck, and he thrust his fingers behind the collar of my sweater, groping, reaching downward. He pulled me closer as his other hand stroked my arm.

“Eating is incredibly sexual if it’s done right. Same as sports. I bet you like sports, too. You have the look of an athlete, but not an obsessed, I’m too fat, must work out female. You work out because you enjoy it, because you love to move and push your body.”

We were a few moves away from embracing and who knows what else. His fingers kept inching forward closer to my breast. It would be easy for me to twist around and come closer, facing him, lean in for a kiss.

I didn’t. Instead I stiffened and turned away. “Tell me, Zac, why come all the way from Park City for a blind date? It might have been a disaster.”

His hands kept on stoking and moving. “I did it as a favor to Rob. He’s a great guy.”

Okay, this was clearly heading in the wrong direction for a first date. I decided to stop the progression.

“Zac,” I said. “I didn’t invite you over to come on to you.”

“Why did you ask me up here?” he asked softly, his lips caressing my earlobe.

“I don’t know. I guess it seemed like the thing to do. You know, a way we could get better acquainted.”

“And here I am, Karoline, wanting to get better acquainted.”

He pulled his hand out from my sweater, thank you for that, but still stroked my arm. I got the message that it was up to me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted this to continue. I wasn’t sure I wanted it to end either. Truthfully, I didn’t know what I wanted.

He must have sensed my confusion, because he pulled back and said, “Hey, I’m not the kind of guy to push myself on a woman. Say the word and I’ll leave.”

“I think we should get to know each other better first. Before we, you know, before we do anything. Before this goes any further.”

Zac nodded. “You’re right. Dude, I understand.” He made a move to get up.

I panicked, not wanting him to leave, and especially not wanting him to feel rejected. Because I wasn’t rejecting him personally, I simply rejected the idea of doing it on our first date that wasn’t even a real date. It was a meeting. We couldn’t have sex on our first meeting.

“I mean, I am definitely attracted to you, Zac. And truthfully, it’s been awhile since I’ve, you know, had sex, and the prospect is appealing. I hope I’m not being too forward telling you this, but yes, the idea of making out with you is kind of turning me on right now, only I’m fighting it. Because it’s not the way I roll. Let’s go out a few times, see how we relate to each other beyond a physical attraction and see what develops. Does that make sense?”

I rambled on as he sat forward on the couch, like he was waiting for me to finish so he could stand and go.

He didn’t lean back, smile warmly and start talking to me about his childhood. That would have been nice and exactly what I wanted. Instead he pulled on his coat. “Sure, I understand. I didn’t mean to come on this strong. Apparently I misinterpreted your signals.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize I was sending out signals.”

I stood as well, feeling like a fool for apologizing. Why did men always try to excuse their behavior by blaming it on the woman’s signals?

He grinned at me, and this time I didn’t see any sparkle in his eyes. It was more like a mocking grin. “Karoline, your signals have been swamping me since I first walked into that restaurant. You are begging for it, woman.”

Did he just call me
woman?
“What? No, I am not! I might have checked you out since it was a blind date and all, and I thought you were cute, and I might have responded somewhat to your touch when you started making the moves on me. However, I was certainly not
begging
for it.”

“Okay, sorry to imply anything. It was what I got, and my radar is pretty sharp about these things.”

“Not every divorced woman is hungry for sex. Just so you know that.”

“Okay, got it. I apologize. I didn’t mean anything by it. Friends?”

He gave me a light and friendly hug.

I hesitated before hugging him back. As a friend. “Sure,” I said, still annoyed by his attitude and frowning at him to let him know it.

“Hey, it’s been great to meet you, Karoline, and I definitely want to see you again.”

I wondered if that would happen. The spark of interest between us had evaporated.

“Me too,” I said lightly, as I walked him to the door. “Call me.”

“I will. I’ll call you.” He gave me another brief hug and a peck on the cheek. “I meant what I said, Karoline. You are a beautiful and sexy woman.”

He winked at me and headed out the door.

As I watched those broad shoulders disappear into the hallway and down the stairs, I realized that he had not once asked for my number. Typical of the entire evening, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.