Southpaw (4 page)

“One of my classes ran
late,” she says as her lips curl up. “But since this is a non-date and
everything, I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.” I shake
my head while I envision tearing off Olivia’s dress.

“Good. I hope you’re
ready for an adventure tonight,” she says as she walks past me, grabs a yellow
paddleboard, and hands it to me.

“I am,” I reply,
thinking of the adventures that I will have with her
after
the lake. She
pulls out a paddle and holds it out to me.

I try to take the
paddle, but she doesn’t let go. Our eyes are gridlocked over the paddle, and
then she finally releases and says, “Don’t disappoint me, Kelly.”

Then she laughs before
grabbing a board and paddle for herself.

It’s a playful warning
that echoes in my head, and for some reason, I find this strange urge not to disappoint
Olivia. “What are we in for tonight?”

“Well, we’re going
paddleboarding first and then I have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t like
surprises.”

“That’s too bad because
I’m filled with them.” She drops her board in the water. Then she pulls her
dress slowly over her head, revealing a long, toned body that is better than I
envisioned. She bends down to stuff her dress in the bag before she looks up to
find me ogling her like the sex-deprived guy that I am. “You can put your stuff
in my bag.”

I follow her lead,
except I drop my board on the dock, and pull my shirt over my head, exposing
the fine specimen of man that I am. I stand there for a second with my shirt in
my hand, but her head is buried in her bag. Then I step out of my shoes and
stand there some more. Still no look. Perplexed, I finally bend down and toss
my shirt over her hand that’s still digging in the bag.

“Great, thanks,” she
says, stuffing my shirt and shoes in her bag without even as much as a sideways
glance at me.

What the hell?

“Your board’s getting
away.” I point to the red board that’s gently drifting away in the rocking
waters of Lake Wingra.

“Get it,” she says, standing
up after zipping her bag shut.

“Yeah, sure,” I mutter
as I lean toward the edge of the dock and use my paddle to direct the board
back in. I hold it there until she finally looks at me, unimpressed.

As hot as she is, I’m
considering shoving her damn board across the lake so she has to jump into the
freezing water to get it. I no longer give a shit about disappointing her.

Suddenly, she starts
laughing.

“What?” I demand. I’m
so close to giving the board a push with my paddle. It would only take a little
exertion of energy.

Olivia covers her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she muffles.

“Sorry for what?” I’m
right on the edge and if she doesn’t explain herself in a few seconds, I’m out
of here and this goddamn trap she somehow snaked me into.

She waves her hand in
front of her body. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” I search the
dock, looking for something I missed. A couple in their sixties with gray hair
and binoculars around their necks are getting help with a canoe at the end of
the dock. Otherwise, it’s empty except for this laughing girl and my slack
face.

She puts her hands down
and clears her throat. “I’m sorry. I can’t act like this. I was trying to act
like a bitch to see how long you would put up with me. I actually didn’t think
you would still be here.”

“You were late on
purpose?” I accuse as I try to quell the anger rising in my throat.

“Yeah. To be honest,
you seemed like a player so I wanted to put you in your place. I’ve been
trampled by guys like you before. I wanted to show you a thing or two, but I
guess I’m not cut out for that job. I can’t keep acting like this,” she says,
biting her lip. “I’m sorry. You can just go.”

“So you thought I was a
player, huh?” I ask. “What made you think that?”

“Well…” she starts.

“Maybe don’t answer
that,” I cut her off.

“We’re not starting off
on the right foot,” she says, putting her paddle on her board. We’re standing
toe-to-toe, both with outstretched arms holding her board in the water, as we eye
each other. I’m sure she likes what she sees. She’s not much shorter than me,
maybe a few inches. Her complexion is smooth except for the freckles that
gently cluster under her eyes, and she only wears a touch of makeup. She’s not
going to leave black eyelash marks on my pillow like other girls. There’s
nothing worse than those damn marks that force me to wash my pillowcases. The
tight pull of her blonde hair from her scalp tells me she’s a natural blonde. I
can smell some sort of oil permeating from her skin. Maybe lavender.

Then she smiles. That
same smile that she gave me the night I first saw her and I realize that maybe
I’ve met my match.

“Well, it is a non-date
after all.” I drop my board in the water next to hers.

“Really? You’re going
to stay?”

“Really. I’m going to
give this a shot as long as you don’t pull any more shit on me,” I reply,
putting my paddle onto my board to keep it still next to hers.

“For the record, even
though I don’t want to give into your ego, I’m impressed.”

“With what?” I ask
knowingly.

“Your body.”

“Me too.”

“You’re impressed with
your own body?” She laughs as she sits down on the dock and dunks a toe into
the water. “Damn, that’s cold. Who thought of this date anyway?”

“Non-date,” I correct
as I sit down next to her. “And I’m impressed with
your
body. You take
the yoga thing pretty seriously, don’t you?”

“I’m an instructor, so
yes, I guess I take it pretty seriously. It looks like you take the whole MMA
fighting thing seriously. Tattoos and all. What does this one mean?” she asks,
running a finger along the curve of the ink on my shoulder blade.

“Not all tattoos have
meanings,” I reply, which makes her pull back her finger. She singled out the
only tattoo I have no interest in talking about. She didn’t pick any of the
other fifteen,, including the dragon breathing a
red scorch of fire down my arm that took a full day to complete. The one she’s
pointing to is the tattoo I got before my dad was incarcerated. The tattoo is a
Celtic symbol for family. It was my first tattoo.

“So you’re a regular,
huh? Kelly ‘The Dude’ Black,” she emphasizes my nickname as she pulls the board
closer with her paddle and then climbs on with one smooth movement. She kneels
at first before she stands upright without getting a drop of water on her body.
“How many times have you been mistaken for a girl?”

“Well, it’s pretty hard
to mistake me for a girl once someone sees me, but before then, more times than
I can count. I stopped keeping track. Gets a little emasculating after a while.”
I contemplate how I’m going to maneuver my body onto the board without getting
soaked. “I’ve been defending myself my entire life. Do you need to put your bag
somewhere by the way?”

“No, Zach will get it.
He knows the drill.”

“The drill? So you’re a
regular here.”

“Yeah, you could say
that. See that mud back there next to the dock? I have this thing about not
walking in mud. I hate the way mud squishes between my toes and sticks like a
bad boyfriend. So Zach grabs my bag if I come early.”

“Early for what? Should
I be worried about this Zach guy?”

“It’s a surprise and
yes, if you’re threatened by pimply, effeminate sixteen-year-olds.” She cocks
her eyebrow and adds, “I’ve never been on a non-date with a fighter before.
Does this mean that I have my own personal bodyguard now?”

“Well, maybe we can
arrange that. Depends how this goes.” I kneel on my board with my paddle in my
hand, trying to balance. The board wobbles and sinks down beneath my weight, letting
a pool of water splash onto the board and against my skin. “Shit, that’s cold.”

She turns around and
laughs as I struggle to gain my balance. “On second thought, I think I can take
care of myself.”

“So what’s your story yoga
instructor Olivia? I don’t even know your last name.” I successfully stand up
and balance on the board. Then I dip the paddle in the water and cautiously
wade toward her. “Ha. Got it.”

“Good, I thought we
might have to cancel this little voyage of ours for a second. Peaceful out
here, isn’t it? I love the water this time of night. There’s so much to admire.
The sun is falling with the perfect shade of yellow, and the water is still.
You can really hear yourself think out here.”

“Yeah,” I reply,
listening to the chirps of the birds and staring at the strings of Olivia’s
swimsuit. There
is
a lot to admire out here. If she were any other girl,
I would tell her that, but I bite my tongue and jerk my head toward the trees
just as she’s turning around.

“Last name is Ghiradelli,”
she says.

“No shit, like the
chocolate?”

“Like the chocolate,
except don’t get too excited like everyone else does. I can’t offer you a
lifetime supply or riches beyond your imagination. We’re some distant relation
that doesn’t provide either of those benefits. My dad gets some monthly
dividend check that maybe pays the energy bill for their modest ranch. I guess
my last name is like your first name. Everyone’s always expecting a little
something different. It’s kind of a bitch, isn’t it?”

“You could say that,
but your parents didn’t have a choice. Mine
chose
my name. They chose to
torture me.” I skim the paddle in the water, getting the hang of the
paddleboard.

“Still working on that,
huh? How long has it been?”

“Twenty-four years.
You?”

“Twenty-three. So do
you do anything else besides knock guys out for a living?” She rotates the
paddle in her hand with ease.

“I thought we were
supposed to talk politics, religion, and our hatred for each other?” I ask,
following her lead out into the open water. “Remember, the non-date?”

“I’ll take that as a
response from someone who doesn’t have a real job.”

“I’m a research scientist
at BioSystems. I waste outrageously expensive pharmaceuticals for a living. I
graduated summa cum laude with a chem major eighteen months ago. Go Badgers.” I
raise my paddle in the air, pointing toward campus through the thick evergreens.

“Chemistry? I wouldn’t have
pegged you as a lab geek. I’m in the Life Science Communications program and graduate
in December. I’m interning this summer at a medical technology company in
Monona. I sell catheters to hospitals. It’s glamorous.” She flashes a bright
smile, and for the first time since we’ve gotten on these boards, I want to
look at her face instead of the perfect curves of her body.

“Five year plan, huh?”
I tease. “The Ghiradelli fortune paying for that extra year?”

“Funny. I took a year
off after my sophomore year. Needed a bit of a breather. You know, work some
things out. But I’m almost done now, thank you very much.”

“Sounds like we’re both
living the dream. You sell catheters, I grind up pharmaceuticals,” I say as the
gray-haired couple paddles past us. The woman pulls the binoculars down and
gives us a little wave as the man paddles from the back seat.

“Just wait. This is
what happens in forty years. She’ll take a load off while you paddle her sorry ass
around the lake,” he says to me as he shakes his head.

“Barry, you schmuck.
It’s the least you could do considering how much bullshit I put up with. I’ve
endured twenty years of interrupted sleep because of your snoring,” she retorts
as she waves him off with a dismissive hand. “Don’t listen to that fool. Enjoy
your night, you two.”

His laughter echoes
against the open waters as they pass us.

Olivia turns to me, and
we start laughing. And I think for a second what it would be like to be with
the same woman for the next forty years. The vision includes the yoga instructor/sales
rep/Ghiradelli-but-not-an-heir next to me.

Damn it. What was
happening to me?

***

SUP Yoga. That’s Olivia’s surprise. If
you aren’t familiar with the term, don’t worry, neither was I. It stands for
Stand Up Paddle Yoga, which means that I fell victim to a yoga session on my
paddleboard
after we trolled around the lake for more than a half hour talking about
everything and nothing while watching open-mouthed bass jump out of the water.
Or that’s what I was supposed to be watching anyway.

Naturally, she’s the
instructor. Much to my disappointment, she put on a wet suit shirt before she started
the session. Maybe she knew I would have a helluva time concentrating with her
in a barely there bikini, posing in compromising positions on the paddleboard. She
doesn’t have to worry about the rest of the class, considering it’s all women
mostly over forty. It sounds like they’re part of some natural/outdoor/hippy
kind of club based on their conversation and the way they’re dressed. Neck to
ankle bodysuits, which is probably a good thing based on the shapes of their
bodies. All I know is that they’re all somehow much smoother on the board than
I am even though their bodies pale in comparison.

We are ten minutes in
when I lean into reverse warrior. My oblique muscles stretch and ache a dull
pain as I pull my left arm back, reaching behind me. I attribute the soreness
to the gym yesterday morning, not from Olivia’s class last night. I’m looking
at the yellow haze of the sunset behind us, thinking about Olivia’s comment
about the water this time of night. And then her bikini and the small strings.
All it would take is one tiny tug and then…

SPLASH. The cold water
rushes around my head and slams me back to the harsh reality of a fully clothed
Olivia surrounded by laughing hippies who have pulled out of their poses. Olivia
laughs right along with them except at least she’s covering her mouth. I shake
my head like a spaniel fresh from the lake despite my lack of hair and climb
back on the board.