After our initial meeting that Tuesday night, I didn't run into Kevin again for about a week and a half. During this time, I told my friend about him, who laughed and told me "good luck." Despite Phil's warning (or maybe because of it), I was intrigued. I had no idea exactly what he meant by his words, and like I said, Kevin certainly had looked pretty nonthreatening.
Anyway, some time had passed, and the following Friday as I sat chatting with some friends, I saw him come in. I decided to wait to see if he would approach me, and I didn’t have to wait long. As soon as he saw me sitting there, he walked right up as if we were old pals.
I had to laugh at his brazenness. He ordered his Old Style, and we started to talk. In the midst of our conversation, several people wandered by and alternately tossed out hello’s to both him and me. Somehow, although we had both been frequenting O’Brien’s, and were both well-known there, our paths had never managed to cross before that Tuesday night. Kevin was funny, and friendly, and actually pretty entertaining. We played darts a few times, and had a few more drinks. When it was nearing closing time, he informed me that he lived “right next-door,” and that a few people from the bar would probably be coming over. (Apparently one of the bartenders, Tom, was his roommate, and he never came home without an entourage.) It sounded like fun to me, so I agreed to go.
He escorted me out the front door, and we walked to a building not quite next-door – it was actually two or three doors away. The downstairs door opened with a load creak, and we ascended steep stairs in the pitch dark. (In retrospect, and considering my current career, I have to wonder how many lawsuits could’ve been filed regarding those stairs.) The apartment itself was nice, nothing fancy, just a typical unit above a vacant storefront on the NW side of Chicago. Two bedrooms, a living room, a hallway/dining room (in which was installed a bar), a kitchen and a bathroom. Sitting in the living room were a few people I recognized, and a couple I didn’t. When Kevin and I walked in, all eyes turned to us. One pair, belonging to a petite woman with dark hair, seemed to burn right through me.
Kevin went to get us each a drink, and I sat down on the arm of one of the chairs. “So,” drawled the petite woman, “how do you know Kevin?” I explained that we had just met, that I actually didn’t know him at all, and that seemed to satisfy her. But I was getting a pretty bad feeling about the whole thing. The last thing I had planned to do was invade another woman’s territory. And the way she had looked at me, I got the feeling that she may have been part of the “bad news” Phil had warned me about.
Despite my sense of unease, when Kevin returned with our beers, I was able to relax a bit and enjoy the company. (Some of it, at least.) Kevin turned out to be the type of person who gets along with everyone, just watching him work the room and keep people talking and laughing brought a smile to my face. When I decided that I had better get going, he walked me all the way back to my car. When we got there, I turned around to say goodbye and thanks, but was surprised by a kiss. Not a bad thing, but I was caught completely off-guard. Once the kiss ended, he asked for my number, and I somehow managed to find a piece of paper in my purse and scribbled what I hoped was a legible copy of my number. He smiled, gave me another quick peck on the lips, and darted back to his apartment.
I drove home with a smile on my face, and still was clueless as to what could possibly be wrong with this guy. Unless the woman at his place was his girlfriend (or worse, his wife!) and he was guilty of two-timing, he really gave me no reason to think anything bad of him. So I shelved the advice in the recesses of my mind, and decided to see what would happen with Kevin. Maybe he’d call, maybe he wouldn’t, but if he did, I’d go for it. And in the meantime, I’d just continue on with my life.
Well, he did call. And the exact details of where things went from there would take fifty blogs to even scratch the surface of. I spent the next four years of my life with him – and Phil was right to warn me. Despite the fact that deep down, he was a really good hearted guy, he had several – shall we say, “character defects” that I in my naivete was convinced I could correct. How I found out about these defects and where they lead me will continue in Part III...
No comments:
Post a Comment