THE BRO-MAGNET (18 page)

So I didn’t kiss the girl.

Idiot
.

I might as well have eaten that Italian combo when I had the chance.

“You need to call her and invite her out again,” Sam says.

It’s Sunday morning, breakfast at my place. Where else would we be? Sometimes I even forget Sam’s got her own place.

“Since when did you become an expert on women?” I ask.

“I’m not an expert. Far from it. But you take this woman on a date and at the end of the night you shake her hand? You make no specific plans to do anything in the future, you don’t even vaguely say ‘I’ll call you,’ which everyone knows is almost always a lie, and then you shake her hand? She’s going to think you don’t like her. You do like her, right?”

I mumble something into my cereal because I don’t want Sam to know just how much I do like Helen. It’s scary liking someone this much.

Sam wisely interprets my mumble to mean yes.

“Then call her. Ask her out again.”

Sam’s right. If I’d tried to kiss Helen and she’d turned her head to the side, I’d think she didn’t like me. Me? I didn’t even try. What’s Helen supposed to think?

Without giving myself a moment to rethink myself, I go to the phone, punch in the number.

“Hello?” Helen answers right away.

“So listen,” I say, ever the smooth operator, “I was wondering – you want to do something together today?”

“I can’t. I already have plans.”

“Oh, OK then, thanks.”

As I hang up, I’m wondering: Who’s she got plans with – Monte Carlo?

Sam shakes me out of my jealous reverie by punching me in the shoulder.

    “Ouch!” I rub the spot. “What was that for?”

“Schmuck,” she says. “What was that all about?”

“What? I called her like you said I should, asked her out, she said she had plans.”

“And you let it go at that? Anyway, who calls on a Sunday and asks the girl out for the same day?”

“Like you know what people do?”

“I know enough not to do that. And if I did do
that
, I wouldn’t be so stupid as to say, ‘Oh, OK then, thanks.’ Schmuck.”

“Don’t hit me again!”

“Call her back. Ask her out for a day other than today. Schmuck.”

“All right already. Just don’t hit me again!”

I pick up the phone again, punch in the number again.

“Hello?” Helen says.

“Listen, I understand you already have plans today. It was very inconsiderate of me to assume you wouldn’t. So I was wondering: Would you like to do something together at some future date?”

“When did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking” – I look over at Sam, who mouths the word
Saturday
. “Next Saturday,” I say.

“What did you have in mind?”

But I got nothing in mind. When I came up with the opera last time, I shot my load.

“I don’t know,” I say. Then I ask-answer, “Something?”

“That could be good,” Helen says.

“Great,” I say. “I’ll call you later on in the week with the details.”

I hang up.

“So,” Sam says, “you have another date.”

“Sort of.”

“Well, since that date’s not today, what do you want to do with the day – watch the Mets game?”

“I don’t think I can,” I say. “I think I need professional help.”

* * *

By professional help, I mean Alice.

While Sam turns on the pre-game show, I punch in Billy’s number.

Alice picks up and when she realizes it’s me says, “Hold on a sec, I’ll get Billy.”

“No!” I practically shout. “I mean no,” I say in a more reasonable voice.

“Did you dial the wrong number?”

“No.” I never could have imagined before this moment that I could say no to Alice so many times in a row. “Actually, it’s you I was looking to talk to.”

“So talk.”

But I realize I can’t do this with Sam in the next room. I don’t want to get laughed at. Well, any more than Alice will probably laugh at me.
“Not on the phone,” I say.

“So come here.”

That idea doesn’t appeal either. Billy’s never seen me so smitten with a girl before. He might laugh at me even more than Sam would.

“Not there either,” I say. “Could we meet for coffee?”

“You mean now?”

“No, I thought that maybe while you’re at work tomorrow, I could go somewhere by myself and pretend you’re there too.”

“What?”

“Yes, now. Unless you’re too busy?”

“Actually Billy’s getting ready to watch the game with Drew. I could use a break from the Mets, even if it’s with you. Sure. Where do you want to meet?”

“Leo’s in half an hour?”

But I’m so antsy to get going on this, I wind up leaving right away and get to Leo’s twenty minutes before Alice is due.

Leo’s is open seven days a week. But since I only come in on weekdays on the way to work, I’m surprised to see Leo working on a Sunday. I don’t know why. I guess I just figured at his age the guy must want to take some time off.

“How was the big date?” Leo asks as he gets my coffee.

Leo knows pretty much everything about me except for the more beneath-the-surface stuff like boxers or briefs.

It’s boxers.

I give him the Cliff Notes version. He laughs about the tux and the Barn Opera, comments that it was good advice Maury gave me about asking women questions.

“Maury’s always spot on about getting women,” he says, “although not so hot on keeping them.”

“You know Maury?”

“Everyone knows Maury,” he says.

I didn’t know Maury before last week.

“Everyone knows me,” he adds expansively.

“True that. Hey Leo, you and The Little Lady have been together forever, right?”

“Forever and a day, yup.”

“Can you give me any more tips on how you keep it going?”

“Well, remembering dates is a big one.”

“Dates?”

I seem to recall at the first poker game Steve Miller came to, Big John discussing the importance of remembering dates. But I’d dismissed it at the time, figuring: What does he know?

“Oh yeah,” Leo says, “women are all about the dates. Forget a birthday or anniversary and you’re screwed.”

“Screwed, huh?”

“The thing is, it’s hard for a guy to keep all that stuff straight. I mean, it’s not like it’s important to me when any particular thing happened. I’m only glad that it did happen and that she hasn’t left me yet.”

“So how do you keep it all straight? What do you do, use one of those little Hallmark calendars?”

“Huh. I never thought to do that – that’s not a bad idea. But no, over time, you learn tricks. Take the whole wedding anniversary thing, for instance. I can never remember: Did we get married on November 10
^th
, 11
^th
or 12
^th
?”

“I’d think you’d at least remember your own wedding anniversary, Leo.”

“I know, right? But wait until you get married. You’ll see. A woman can come up with so many anniversaries for minor things you’d never think anyone in their right mind would care about. First Time Holding Hands. First Kiss. First Time You Went To An Outdoor Festival Together. A woman’ll get you so confused trying to remember all the minor anniversaries, the major ones can get knocked right out of your head.”

“First Time You Went To An Outdoor Festival Together? No shit?”

“You don’t even know the half of it. Wait til you’re in the thick of the thing. You’ll see.”

“So if your head’s always getting filled with all that other crap, how do you handle the wedding anniversary thing?”

“Oh, right. Well, what I do, see, since I do know it might be one of three days in November, I go shopping early November and put the present in the trunk of my car. But then I just wait. Because if I pull it out too early? I’m screwed, just as bad as if I pull it out too late. Believe me, I know. One year, I gave her the present on November 1
^st
just to be on the safe side? The Little Lady wouldn’t talk to me til December. Which sucked. It was a really good present!”

“So you just leave it in the trunk now?”

“No, I don’t just leave it in the trunk now.” I can tell Leo’s exasperated with me for not getting this. “Well, I do leave it in the trunk. But then I just bide my time. Wait and watch – that’s the name of the game.”

“Wait and watch?”

“Oh yeah.” Leo nods, wipes at a spot on the counter with his rag. “As soon as The Little Lady starts to look sour in the mouth, I go out to the car and voila!”

“Wow, that sounds like a lot of work, trying to stay one step ahead with a woman.”

“Oh it is.” Leo nods again. “But the right woman is worth it.”

“Any other tips?”

“Yes. Be a good kisser. I’m such a good kisser, The Little Lady’ll never leave me.”

“So long as you have a present in the trunk by November 10
^th
.”

“That too.”

* * *

I don’t think I’ve ever not noticed what Alice looks like or what she has on, but today I don’t. As I sit at a table at Leo’s and watch her come through the door, all I’m thinking about is Helen and how I’m hoping Alice can give me more profitable advice in dealing with her than I’ve received elsewhere.

Alice takes a seat across from me and before I know it Leo’s scurrying over to take her order. Now this is new. I’ve never seen Leo come out from behind his counter for anybody before. At Leo’s, the protocol is that you place the order at the counter and, if you’re eating in, you go back to the counter to pick up your order when he shouts your number.

Alice orders a Chai Latte and Leo doesn’t even blink. Me, I’m wondering what he’s actually going to serve her since Leo’s doesn’t have Chai Latte on the menu.

“That’s all,” Alice says when Leo doesn’t leave right away.

Leo puts a hand on my shoulder as he speaks to Alice.

“This guy here,” he says, adding, “Johnny,” as if there might be doubt as to whom he’s referring, “is one of the finest guys I know.”

What’s Leo doing?

“Any woman,” Leo goes on, “would be lucky to get him. Johnny’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just talk, he listens. Plus, he never forgets a significant date, nev – ”

“Leo!” I cut him off.

He stops testifying long enough to look down at me in puzzlement. “What? I was only trying – ”

I put one hand on the side of my face so Alice can’t see as I urgently mouth the words,
This isn’t the woman
.

“Oh?” Leo says. “Oh!” Then he looks at Alice, says, “I’ll call your number when your coffee’s ready,” and leaves.

“But I didn’t order – ” Alice starts to say, but Leo’s already behind the counter, making whatever he’s going to make her.

“That was odd,” she says to me.

“Yeah, well, you know.” I shrug. “Old people. Listen, about what I wanted to talk to you about. There’s this woman, see, and I really like her. Like,
a lot
I like her. And – ”

Before I can go any further, she holds up her hand like a traffic cop.

“What?” I say.

“Please don’t go there,” she says.

“What are you talking about?”

She spaces the words carefully, like I’m an idiot. Great. Now she’s a traffic cop and I’m an idiot. “
I…know…Johnny
.”

She knows? How can Alice know?

“What are you – ” I start to say, but she won’t let me finish.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to your best friend,” she says.

What’s she –

“What are you – ”

“I know you’ve always had a thing for me. But I’m married to Billy now,
your best friend
. Plus, even if I wasn’t, it’s not like you, or me, we, it’s not like we’d ever be – ”

“Omigod.” Now it’s my turn to cut her off. “I can’t believe this. You actually think I called you here to – what? I don’t know – confess my undying love to you?”

“You mean you didn’t?”

“No.” I laugh. “God no!”

Alice isn’t laughing. First she’s mad at me because she thinks I’m in love with her. And now she’s mad because I’m laughing at the idea. You can’t win with women.

“I mean,” I say earnestly, trying to save the situation, “it’s not like you’re unworthy.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“And there was a time where I would have given – ”

“Number one-ninety-seven – order up!” Leo barks, saving me from myself. You gotta wonder where Leo comes up with this stuff. Alice and I are the only customers here, so how does he come up with Alice being one-ninety-seven?

Alice comes back with the drink Leo gave her.

“What’d he give you?” I ask.

She takes a sip, shrugs. “I think it’s orange juice. So, you were saying…”

Well, we don’t need to get back to
exactly
what I was saying…

“There’s this woman I really like,” I start again, then hasten to add, “who’s not you.”

Alice is still looking curiously grumpy about that last part – women! – so I hasten some more.

“It’s just that I really like her and I don’t want to louse this up. I’ve gotten some good advice from” – I’m about to say Leo but then realize Alice will not be impressed – “
various parties
, but they’re all men. I feel like I need a real woman’s perspective on what women like, on what women like in a man. And yet the only women I have to go by are Sam and Aunt Alfresca, and frankly – ”

“I get it,” Alice cuts me off. “I’ve met both Sam and Aunt Alfresca and I know exactly what you mean.”

“Thank you,” I say with relief. Finally, she gets it.

“Sam still call me Alex?”

“Pretty much.”

“No, she can’t help you. As for Aunt Alfresca…”

“I know, right?”

“So, you want to get the girl…” Alice mulls this over while I wait for her verdict. “Well, first thing, you’ve got to do something about your wardrobe.”

“What’s wrong with my wardrobe?”

Alice eyes me from my sneakers to my jeans to my Mets T-shirt and Mets cap turned backwards.

“Everything,” she decides. “You dress like a boy.”

“A boy? I know a lot of guys who dress like this.”

“Right. And they’re all overgrown boys. You need to dress like a grownup. Real shirts with collars, and no polyester. Real pants, like khakis, not jeans; come the fall, a nice wool blend. Real shoes, like a loafer or Docksiders. A real belt from time to time wouldn’t hurt.”