Chapter 12: JUST SHUT UP AND KISS ME
Noa in sweats and a ponytail, slipped out for an early walk, saw the town by daylight and was savoring breakfast alone in the hotel restaurant. She was finishing her bacon and eggs when the cowboy walked in. It was 6:20 AM and the rest of her family was still sleeping.
Oh my God, that’s him. . The cowboy was dressed in last night’s clothes sans chaps. He looked fresh out of bed and he looked just as good in the light of day, maybe better. The crumpled denim shirt and wrinkled jeans added to his don’t-give-a damn-charm. Noa could not explain her nervousness or was it excitement?
This is ridiculous. He’s a kid. Damn, he has to be the sexiest man alive and Time Magazine has no idea he exists. The women of the world are really missing out on this one. The restaurant was deserted save one lone diner at the bar. Noa was facing the cowboy as he gave his order to the waitress behind the counter.
She listened to his radio voice for the first time. “Could I get three eggs easy, three pieces of bacon crispy, sourdough toast and coffee black? And serve it at that table over there.” Noa watched as the cowboy motioned toward her.
What the hell? Noa was immediately flustered. Perhaps she was mistaken, she gulped the last of her tea and diverted her eyes. No, she was right. Noa held her breath as he approached.
“I hate to see a lovely lady dining alone so early in the morning, and I like it even less when I have to do it. Mind if I join you?” The baritone Texas drawl was another cord in his seductive symphony. The lopsided smile disarmingly sexy.
Before Noa could respond, the cowboy was seated across from her. This is not happening. Noa had no idea what to say or do. She was seventeen again. Caught without makeup and any defenses against overpowering desires, she felt fully exposed.
“You don’t mind, do you?” The cowboy removed his hat to reveal a shock of sun streaked wavy brown hair and the most stunningly handsome face Noa had ever encountered. He took her breath away.
“Oh, no. Of course not. I was just finishing up.” Noa felt the heat rise up to her cheeks and she avoided his dark blue eyes. She countered her lightheadedness with a deep breath.
“What brings you to Jackson Hole?” The cowboy acted as if he dined with a stranger every morning.
“Vacation. What brings you?” Noa was surprised at her ability to converse with this coveted prize in real time. She would have preferred him to stay comfortably safe in her fantasy.
“Rodeo.”
“Hmm. Rodeo. Here?”
“Yes, Friday night. You ever been to a rodeo?”
“Once, when I was a little girl.”
“Then it’s time for another one, and bring that pretty little daughter along.”
Noa’s eyes widen with the realization he saw them last night. Blushing even deeper with embarrassment at being outed, she lifted the empty cup to her lips.
“Busted.” The cowboy’s hearty laugh displayed white even teeth despite his tobacco habit. “Sure, I saw you last night. I’d have to be blind to miss the two best-looking girls in town. I was tired after the bus ride from Cheyenne, but not blind, Cupcake.”
“Ahh, you flatter me—girl and cupcake.” Noa felt herself relaxing and enjoying his company, and as far as she could see the cowboy remained flawless. This is harmless. Just enjoy it.
“I ride the bulls and that’ll be happening about eight o’clock. Bring the family.” The cowboy leaned forward and pushed a gate pass toward Noa. “I don’t have any family attending, so you might as well use this.”
Noa’s hand brushed the cowboy’s as she took the ticket from his open palm. She withdrew her hand quickly in reaction to the current that coursed through her body from his touch. He smiled.
He’s playing with me and it’s working. I need to leave—now. She hurriedly excused herself as the waitress arrived with his food, and went to the restroom to compose herself. Noa splashed cold water on her face repeatedly, and was half laughing, half crying, when the door opened.
She opened her mouth to protest as he turned to lock the door. Before she could speak, he placed his index finger over her wet mouth and wiped the dampness from her cheeks. Noa began again to utter words of protest.
“Just shut up and come over here and kiss me.” The cowboy smiled irresistibly, reached out his arms and leaned back against the door.
The kiss curled Noa’s toes and tilted her world.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Worth It Chapter 11
Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.
Scott Adams
Chapter 11: COWBOY HEAVEN
Noa realized her core was no different at fifty-seven than it was at seventeen. Some things remain constant. In this she took comfort. At times, the rest of her world seemed to be spinning out of control. A son at war, financial messes, wrecked relationships and work related woes could be overwhelming. It helped to stand back and observe, instead of trying to force her will upon the world as she once did. Sometimes life requires a person to be a spectator instead of a participant. It was a challenging task for Noa, but one she was learning to accept most of the time and actually enjoy at other times.
At various times in her life Noa fell victim to at least five of the seven deadly sins. Sloth and Gluttony were the two she had successfully avoided thus far. To Noa, sins were like burns. There were varying degrees of seriousness. Most of hers fell into the first and second-degree categories. Madders was third degree all the way.
He stepped off the bus carrying a saddle. Think Brad Pitt, a little taller, more chiseled, in a sweat stained cowboy hat, with a two-day stubble and wearing chaps. Noa and Elizabeth were window-shopping in Jackson Hole years earlier on the last vacation they took as a family before the divorce. The rest of the family, exhausted from the drive, opted to watch an in-room movie. Noa and her daughter went for ice cream, a walk around the town square, and a little night air.
The bus pulled to the curb, and both Elizabeth and Noa turned toward it, most likely from the noise and odor it emitted. Their eyes locked on the same object. Then, after a quick glance at one another, back to “the cowboy.”
“I’ll take that one.” Elizabeth’s teenage lust was in full bloom at sixteen.”
“You have excellent taste, my dear.” Noa continued to gaze as the cowboy lighted a cigarette while he waited for his baggage to be unloaded curbside. Better than the Marlboro Man. “Hmm, we’d better go.”
“Not yet, Mom, let’s watch a little longer.” Elizabeth pleaded as Noa began to saunter toward the next gallery window.
Noa felt a need to distance herself from the exquisiteness of his form; those sleek long lines and perfect proportions, but she turned back and reveled in the moment. “He is a vision. Remember this one, it’s a once in a lifetime treat.” Noa licked the melting chocolate from the side of the cone, and admonished her daughter. “It’s rude to stare, mind your manners.” But Noa, like her daughter, could not resist. The temptation took on a power of its own.
The cowboy threw his cigarette butt on the sidewalk, ground it out with his boot heel, threw the saddle on his right shoulder, picked up his lone bag and began to walk away.
“Let’s follow him Mom.”
“Elizabeth---we shouldn’t.” But Noa had never wanted to pursue anyone more in her entire life. Primal urges surfaced beyond her control, and Noa was flooded with unbridled desire for the complete stranger, the cowboy. Good Lord, what am I thinking? He’s twenty-eight, thirty at most, maybe no older than twenty-five. And I have children, a husband and responsibilities. What am I doing?
“We have to, he’s a walking piece of art.” At sixteen Elizabeth’s passions were boys, art and horses, the latter was the longest-lived.
And so they did.
The cowboy left the town square and headed in the direction of Noa’s hotel. It was a warm August night and the sidewalks were filled with urban people playing cowboy for a week, but Noa sensed he was aware they were following him. He turned once, paused for only a second, and then continued walking.
Noa touched Elizabeth’s arm. “Honey, we have to stop this. Let’s go back to our hotel.” As she spoke the cowboy looked back at them again, a little longer this time. Noa took her daughter’s hand and stopped in the street. “Let’s go, we’ve had our fun.”
They watched as the cowboy cut across the street, and disappeared into the night. Noa felt a sense of loss as the vision disappeared. That will never come again. She closed her eyes and made sure he was imprinted in her memory forever. She recognized and appreciated God given beauty, and she was sure she would forever treasure the cowboy as a beautiful memory and cherished moment in her life. His essence moved her in a way she had seldom, if ever, been moved before. She doubted Elizabeth would ever forget this night too. It was an unlikely mother daughter bonding experience.
They walked in silence until Elizabeth spoke. “Mom, we met the universal man tonight.” Elizabeth’s mood was giddy.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought he was absolutely hunky, and I could tell you liked him too.”
“Oh, really? And our unanimous approval makes him the universal man?”
“Yep, sure does.”
Scott Adams
Chapter 11: COWBOY HEAVEN
Noa realized her core was no different at fifty-seven than it was at seventeen. Some things remain constant. In this she took comfort. At times, the rest of her world seemed to be spinning out of control. A son at war, financial messes, wrecked relationships and work related woes could be overwhelming. It helped to stand back and observe, instead of trying to force her will upon the world as she once did. Sometimes life requires a person to be a spectator instead of a participant. It was a challenging task for Noa, but one she was learning to accept most of the time and actually enjoy at other times.
At various times in her life Noa fell victim to at least five of the seven deadly sins. Sloth and Gluttony were the two she had successfully avoided thus far. To Noa, sins were like burns. There were varying degrees of seriousness. Most of hers fell into the first and second-degree categories. Madders was third degree all the way.
He stepped off the bus carrying a saddle. Think Brad Pitt, a little taller, more chiseled, in a sweat stained cowboy hat, with a two-day stubble and wearing chaps. Noa and Elizabeth were window-shopping in Jackson Hole years earlier on the last vacation they took as a family before the divorce. The rest of the family, exhausted from the drive, opted to watch an in-room movie. Noa and her daughter went for ice cream, a walk around the town square, and a little night air.
The bus pulled to the curb, and both Elizabeth and Noa turned toward it, most likely from the noise and odor it emitted. Their eyes locked on the same object. Then, after a quick glance at one another, back to “the cowboy.”
“I’ll take that one.” Elizabeth’s teenage lust was in full bloom at sixteen.”
“You have excellent taste, my dear.” Noa continued to gaze as the cowboy lighted a cigarette while he waited for his baggage to be unloaded curbside. Better than the Marlboro Man. “Hmm, we’d better go.”
“Not yet, Mom, let’s watch a little longer.” Elizabeth pleaded as Noa began to saunter toward the next gallery window.
Noa felt a need to distance herself from the exquisiteness of his form; those sleek long lines and perfect proportions, but she turned back and reveled in the moment. “He is a vision. Remember this one, it’s a once in a lifetime treat.” Noa licked the melting chocolate from the side of the cone, and admonished her daughter. “It’s rude to stare, mind your manners.” But Noa, like her daughter, could not resist. The temptation took on a power of its own.
The cowboy threw his cigarette butt on the sidewalk, ground it out with his boot heel, threw the saddle on his right shoulder, picked up his lone bag and began to walk away.
“Let’s follow him Mom.”
“Elizabeth---we shouldn’t.” But Noa had never wanted to pursue anyone more in her entire life. Primal urges surfaced beyond her control, and Noa was flooded with unbridled desire for the complete stranger, the cowboy. Good Lord, what am I thinking? He’s twenty-eight, thirty at most, maybe no older than twenty-five. And I have children, a husband and responsibilities. What am I doing?
“We have to, he’s a walking piece of art.” At sixteen Elizabeth’s passions were boys, art and horses, the latter was the longest-lived.
And so they did.
The cowboy left the town square and headed in the direction of Noa’s hotel. It was a warm August night and the sidewalks were filled with urban people playing cowboy for a week, but Noa sensed he was aware they were following him. He turned once, paused for only a second, and then continued walking.
Noa touched Elizabeth’s arm. “Honey, we have to stop this. Let’s go back to our hotel.” As she spoke the cowboy looked back at them again, a little longer this time. Noa took her daughter’s hand and stopped in the street. “Let’s go, we’ve had our fun.”
They watched as the cowboy cut across the street, and disappeared into the night. Noa felt a sense of loss as the vision disappeared. That will never come again. She closed her eyes and made sure he was imprinted in her memory forever. She recognized and appreciated God given beauty, and she was sure she would forever treasure the cowboy as a beautiful memory and cherished moment in her life. His essence moved her in a way she had seldom, if ever, been moved before. She doubted Elizabeth would ever forget this night too. It was an unlikely mother daughter bonding experience.
They walked in silence until Elizabeth spoke. “Mom, we met the universal man tonight.” Elizabeth’s mood was giddy.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought he was absolutely hunky, and I could tell you liked him too.”
“Oh, really? And our unanimous approval makes him the universal man?”
“Yep, sure does.”
Monday, September 8, 2008
Chapter 10 Worth It
The very purpose of our lives is happiness; the very motion of our lives is toward happiness.
His Holiness the Dalai Lama
Chapter 10: SO UNREAL
“Mom, you need to prosecute him. Don’t let him get away with this.” Elizabeth’s voice was as fiery as her hair. “You loaned that poor excuse for a man money when he was losing his restaurant because he couldn’t manage his way out of an open paper bag, and then he turns around and does this? Unbelievable!”
Elizabeth, Noa’s bright and gifted daughter always lived by the rules, except for the choices she made in her own life. An unconventional choice in a husband found her married to a man thirty years her senior, a doctoral degree student at UCLA, the mother of four and stepmother of five at twenty-eight. Her day job was teaching ninety fourth graders math.
“He’s obviously disturbed to do what he did.” Noa plucked the wilted blossoms from the cymbidium plants as she spoke. She remained unsure what action she would initiate, if any.
“Disturbed? Full on nuts is more like it.” Elizabeth was agitated and ready to call the DA. She shifted the baby to the opposite hip and watched as her mother continued to manicure her plants.
After a few minutes, Noa stopped gardening, stretched out on the fresh cut lawn, and watched her grandchildren happily engaged in the magical moments of childhood. Now that is happiness. Bliss at its best. I’m in the presence of angels. They are full of joy in the present moment. They are here, now, not concerned with tomorrow or filled with regrets for yesterday. That’s the gift of grandchildren; they give us another glimpse at raw happiness, perhaps our last reminder to seek it everyday for ourselves. After all, it is one of our inalienable rights, so why do we continually deny ourselves? Noa’s thoughts drifted back to the demise of her most recent long-term relationship.
“No doubt, he does have real issues. Best case, he is a pathological liar, and worst case is he needs to be committed.” Noa removed her gardening gloves and lifted her arms to indicate to Elizabeth to give her the baby. “I’m still stunned by the depth and breathe of his lies. Bouncing all those checks, and the phantom properties in Hawaii, Temecula and God knows where else. The devil was in his every detail. Our relationship was on a winding devious path leading nowhere. Each lie, led to ten more. A sane person couldn’t make up stories that elaborate.”
A half-smile escaped as Noa continued. “It’s almost becoming comical to me.” Noa buried her nose in the baby’s strawberry blond curls and inhaled slowly. The sweet scent of innocence.
Noa caught a glimmer of mischief in Elizabeth’s blue eyes as she sat down beside her mother.
“If they gave a Nobel for lying, he’d win hands down. I’m still laughing about his yacht that lost half its length from story to story, and, oh, how about my favorite that he was a member of the RealJet family!” Elizabeth’s laugh was just shy of boisterous.
“He was so uncultured---all those double negatives. That used to drive me crazy. Honestly Mom, I think Princeton was another part of the fantasy life he thought he lived.”
Elizabeth prepared to breastfeed as she spoke. “And remember how you had to spray your bedroom after he left because of the body odor that lingered behind long after he left? And stripping the bed sheets after each visit? He was a lot of work, Mom.” Elizabeth’s mood lightened as she recalled how they rolled on the floor laughing when Noa first recounted the story.
“I know. I can’t believe I spent three years off and on with him. All because I was trying to prove to myself I was over Jett.” Noa sighed and realized even smart women make dumb mistakes. “At least I know why I did it. I’ve learned my head is not stronger than my heart.”
Noa felt she was finally ready to move toward her own happiness. She was looking forward to the journey. And perhaps, just perhaps it did not include a man, at least not full time.
“Let’s face it Mom, you love a project, and he was one if I ever saw one!”
“He was someone I thought I should love, but you can’t tell your heart what to do. What a waste of time.” Noa disliked languishing in guilt and regrets, and it had taken months for her to realize why she stayed in a relationship with a man she disliked more than she liked.
“And money.” Elizabeth remained appalled Noa loaned money to a man who claimed to be a millionaire, a retired surgeon and a restaurateur to the rich and famous. “Mom, whatever did you see in him? We were all puzzled by that selection from the start.” Elizabeth swung her ponytail to one side, and away from the baby’s grasp. “Not that you’ve brought that many guys home for us to meet, but usually they run more to the tall, dark, smart and hunky types, and he was just the opposite.”
Noa threw back her head and laughed without restraint. “Yes, I’d like to kill the person who wrote that article, it was in Time I think, suggesting older women date against type.”
Noa watched as her grandchildren played on the deck with the same Fisher Price toys her own children played with, then spoke with measured accuracy. “I suppose it was a combination of things. Jett married, September 11 happened, my children were gone, my nest was empty and my mother’s death left me feeling very much at a crossroad in my life. I just took the wrong path. But don’t worry my dear; I fell, but it was only a skinned knee. It’ll leave a little scar, but the healing is well under way. And even at my age, I learned from it. I know what I don’t want; it’s my type or no one. There’s no settling. Dr. Real confirmed that for me.”
Noa bent over to kiss the redheaded grandson as he raced by. “See, he was good for something.”
Elizabeth spoke softly, but resolutely. “Good for nothing, and good riddance. What a waste of humanity. God placed all those signs in front of you, but you turned your head every time until the ring. It couldn’t be much more in your face than that. Now, that was a brazen act.”
“Seven carats of cubic zirconium, and the most insulting thing is he thought he could get away with it.” Noa shook her head in disbelief.
What a little low life bastard.” Elizabeth spoke softly through clenched teeth.
Noa’s eyes connected with Elizabeth’s. “You’re right, and thank God I didn’t get in any deeper by marrying him. He was abysmal at business, but I didn’t find that out until after I was working with him.”
Noa moved to the chaise, curled her legs beneath her, and raised her eyes upward in thanks. “It feels so good to be working for myself again. That was the biggest career and relationship mistake I ever made, all rolled into one.”
Noa admired the tidy garden. It was satisfying to establish order somewhere so easily.
“At least you got it over with all at once.” Analytical and logical Elizabeth attempted to help her mother put the charade behind her.
Noa laughed and nodded. “Yes, they ran concurrently.”
It was therapeutic to discuss, analyze and find humor in a relationship gone bad. It was a summation of lessons learned and moving forward. Sharing it with her daughter lightened the load. Noa knew she was blessed indeed.
“And let this be a lesson to you. It’s never too late to correct a mistake. Dr Real looked good on paper, but even those were false. The only thing I regret is that it took so long for me to discover his true character. He was weak, deceptive and detrimental to me in every way. The Great Fraud.”
Noa looked deep into her daughter’s eyes. “Promise me you’ll never suffer the company of a fool just to be in someone’s company.”
Elizabeth nodded her agreement, placed her arms around her mother, squeezed her tight, and said, “All's well that ends well.”
A phrase oft spoken by the women of their clan.
His Holiness the Dalai Lama
Chapter 10: SO UNREAL
“Mom, you need to prosecute him. Don’t let him get away with this.” Elizabeth’s voice was as fiery as her hair. “You loaned that poor excuse for a man money when he was losing his restaurant because he couldn’t manage his way out of an open paper bag, and then he turns around and does this? Unbelievable!”
Elizabeth, Noa’s bright and gifted daughter always lived by the rules, except for the choices she made in her own life. An unconventional choice in a husband found her married to a man thirty years her senior, a doctoral degree student at UCLA, the mother of four and stepmother of five at twenty-eight. Her day job was teaching ninety fourth graders math.
“He’s obviously disturbed to do what he did.” Noa plucked the wilted blossoms from the cymbidium plants as she spoke. She remained unsure what action she would initiate, if any.
“Disturbed? Full on nuts is more like it.” Elizabeth was agitated and ready to call the DA. She shifted the baby to the opposite hip and watched as her mother continued to manicure her plants.
After a few minutes, Noa stopped gardening, stretched out on the fresh cut lawn, and watched her grandchildren happily engaged in the magical moments of childhood. Now that is happiness. Bliss at its best. I’m in the presence of angels. They are full of joy in the present moment. They are here, now, not concerned with tomorrow or filled with regrets for yesterday. That’s the gift of grandchildren; they give us another glimpse at raw happiness, perhaps our last reminder to seek it everyday for ourselves. After all, it is one of our inalienable rights, so why do we continually deny ourselves? Noa’s thoughts drifted back to the demise of her most recent long-term relationship.
“No doubt, he does have real issues. Best case, he is a pathological liar, and worst case is he needs to be committed.” Noa removed her gardening gloves and lifted her arms to indicate to Elizabeth to give her the baby. “I’m still stunned by the depth and breathe of his lies. Bouncing all those checks, and the phantom properties in Hawaii, Temecula and God knows where else. The devil was in his every detail. Our relationship was on a winding devious path leading nowhere. Each lie, led to ten more. A sane person couldn’t make up stories that elaborate.”
A half-smile escaped as Noa continued. “It’s almost becoming comical to me.” Noa buried her nose in the baby’s strawberry blond curls and inhaled slowly. The sweet scent of innocence.
Noa caught a glimmer of mischief in Elizabeth’s blue eyes as she sat down beside her mother.
“If they gave a Nobel for lying, he’d win hands down. I’m still laughing about his yacht that lost half its length from story to story, and, oh, how about my favorite that he was a member of the RealJet family!” Elizabeth’s laugh was just shy of boisterous.
“He was so uncultured---all those double negatives. That used to drive me crazy. Honestly Mom, I think Princeton was another part of the fantasy life he thought he lived.”
Elizabeth prepared to breastfeed as she spoke. “And remember how you had to spray your bedroom after he left because of the body odor that lingered behind long after he left? And stripping the bed sheets after each visit? He was a lot of work, Mom.” Elizabeth’s mood lightened as she recalled how they rolled on the floor laughing when Noa first recounted the story.
“I know. I can’t believe I spent three years off and on with him. All because I was trying to prove to myself I was over Jett.” Noa sighed and realized even smart women make dumb mistakes. “At least I know why I did it. I’ve learned my head is not stronger than my heart.”
Noa felt she was finally ready to move toward her own happiness. She was looking forward to the journey. And perhaps, just perhaps it did not include a man, at least not full time.
“Let’s face it Mom, you love a project, and he was one if I ever saw one!”
“He was someone I thought I should love, but you can’t tell your heart what to do. What a waste of time.” Noa disliked languishing in guilt and regrets, and it had taken months for her to realize why she stayed in a relationship with a man she disliked more than she liked.
“And money.” Elizabeth remained appalled Noa loaned money to a man who claimed to be a millionaire, a retired surgeon and a restaurateur to the rich and famous. “Mom, whatever did you see in him? We were all puzzled by that selection from the start.” Elizabeth swung her ponytail to one side, and away from the baby’s grasp. “Not that you’ve brought that many guys home for us to meet, but usually they run more to the tall, dark, smart and hunky types, and he was just the opposite.”
Noa threw back her head and laughed without restraint. “Yes, I’d like to kill the person who wrote that article, it was in Time I think, suggesting older women date against type.”
Noa watched as her grandchildren played on the deck with the same Fisher Price toys her own children played with, then spoke with measured accuracy. “I suppose it was a combination of things. Jett married, September 11 happened, my children were gone, my nest was empty and my mother’s death left me feeling very much at a crossroad in my life. I just took the wrong path. But don’t worry my dear; I fell, but it was only a skinned knee. It’ll leave a little scar, but the healing is well under way. And even at my age, I learned from it. I know what I don’t want; it’s my type or no one. There’s no settling. Dr. Real confirmed that for me.”
Noa bent over to kiss the redheaded grandson as he raced by. “See, he was good for something.”
Elizabeth spoke softly, but resolutely. “Good for nothing, and good riddance. What a waste of humanity. God placed all those signs in front of you, but you turned your head every time until the ring. It couldn’t be much more in your face than that. Now, that was a brazen act.”
“Seven carats of cubic zirconium, and the most insulting thing is he thought he could get away with it.” Noa shook her head in disbelief.
What a little low life bastard.” Elizabeth spoke softly through clenched teeth.
Noa’s eyes connected with Elizabeth’s. “You’re right, and thank God I didn’t get in any deeper by marrying him. He was abysmal at business, but I didn’t find that out until after I was working with him.”
Noa moved to the chaise, curled her legs beneath her, and raised her eyes upward in thanks. “It feels so good to be working for myself again. That was the biggest career and relationship mistake I ever made, all rolled into one.”
Noa admired the tidy garden. It was satisfying to establish order somewhere so easily.
“At least you got it over with all at once.” Analytical and logical Elizabeth attempted to help her mother put the charade behind her.
Noa laughed and nodded. “Yes, they ran concurrently.”
It was therapeutic to discuss, analyze and find humor in a relationship gone bad. It was a summation of lessons learned and moving forward. Sharing it with her daughter lightened the load. Noa knew she was blessed indeed.
“And let this be a lesson to you. It’s never too late to correct a mistake. Dr Real looked good on paper, but even those were false. The only thing I regret is that it took so long for me to discover his true character. He was weak, deceptive and detrimental to me in every way. The Great Fraud.”
Noa looked deep into her daughter’s eyes. “Promise me you’ll never suffer the company of a fool just to be in someone’s company.”
Elizabeth nodded her agreement, placed her arms around her mother, squeezed her tight, and said, “All's well that ends well.”
A phrase oft spoken by the women of their clan.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Worth It Chapter 9
Full satisfaction does not come from satisfying the senses alone. We have capacity to experience happiness at a much deeper level. Paraphrased from Dali Lama
Chapter 9: PIECES OF ME
“Thank God, you made it back, and it wasn’t you.” Noa felt the tension dissipate from top to bottom.
Lonne laughed. “Of course I did. I always do.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Noa could hear the Lakers’ game playing in the background. She knew Lonne flipped it on the moment she walked in the door, even before checking her messages.
“No, I just got here. What’s going on?” Lonne’s tone grew somber.
“They found another woman, in pieces, along the 91 Freeway from Compton to Riverside.”
“When?” Lonne muted the game.
“It’s in this morning’s paper and all over the Net. From what they can piece together, literally, she appears to be in her mid to late forties, blue eyes, blonde--with a little help, and Caucasian. Sounded just like you to me. I’ve had you dead for the past twelve hours. You have to stop turning that cell phone off!”
Lonne believed her cell phone was for her service, not she a servant to it. She turned it off until needed, and the rest of the world could leave a message that would be answered when convenient.
“You should have called.”
“I tried, and who should I call? Your daughters thought you were with me!”
“Oh my, I see what you mean. That would have really blown my cover. Thanks for not alarming them. Give me details.”
Lonne’s seventeen-year-old daughter often spent the night with her married older sister when Lonne was out of town on business or pleasure. Lonne loved the idea of trading baby-sitting duties with her daughter, and built up redeemable overnights by watching her baby granddaughter.
“That’s about all they have right now. No car, no identification. Just another dead middle age woman. They did say this one fits the same MO. All manicured, pedicured, waxed and lifted. I swear, I thought it was you.”
“I feel for the poor woman. That’s a hell of a lot of maintenance to go though to end up in a ditch. It’s some sick bastard for sure.”
“And you have all your information right out there for the world to read, and pictures too! If he has Internet access, and I’m sure he does, he has his choice of women to choose from.”
“But why? Why would anyone want to do that to someone?” Lonne’s voice revealed the vulnerability she felt, but hoped was disguised.
“Because he can. Because he’s pissed at women. Because she rejected him. Because she reminds him of someone who hurt him. Because she made herself available and he saw an opportunity. She was the right woman in the right place at the right time.” Noa paraphrased a political sound bite. “She was the one he wanted to do, and he didn’t have loving on his mind.”
“OK, OK, I get your point. I’ll be more careful. No more meeting strangers in unfamiliar places until they catch this guy. Geez, a girl can’t have a good time anymore without worrying about getting hacked to death. What is America coming to?”
Noa wondered too. Often, when she closed the beach house up for the night by methodically locking all the doors and windows, she questioned what she was locking out. Certainly, the cool night ocean breeze, but primarily man. She bolted the door against the predatory night stalkers, hillside stranglers, serial rapists and mass murderers who threatened her safety and security simple because she was a single woman who lived alone. A target, easy prey. The evolution of man has not distanced us far from cave man tactics.
Noa took precautions. Lonne threw caution to the wind. She played the odds. They had both lived long enough to know women who were mugged, robbed and raped. It often hit close to home. A man who followed her home from Trader Joes on a Saturday morning raped Noa’s next-door neighbor years earlier. It did not always happen to someone else.
“Just be careful. Even the guy who looks and acts like a gentleman can turn ugly. There are too many guys out there you can not trust, and you take off for weekends and overnights without so much as asking their last name. Just do a little checking first, that’s all I’m asking.” Noa cut short the lecture even though she was concerned for Lonne’s safety.
“Finding someone to love shouldn’t be this hard. Now we have to risk our lives every time we log on and try to hook up with someone. And Noa, don’t you dare remind me again about the guy from Seattle with the hammer.”
Noa laughed. “That was an eye opener, but I know I have worn that story out.”
In the early days of Internet dating an article appeared in the Los Angeles Times detailing a cyber date gone wrong. When the woman realized she was with a psycho and tried to leave the restaurant, he followed her to her car and attacked her with a hammer. The woman was Lonne. It was extracurricular on Lonne’s behalf. She was married, but seeking. It was the catalyst that brought about the demise of marriage number two.
“That was a long time ago, and I’m smarter now—I valet, Lonne quipped. “Seriously, I’m fine, and thanks for caring, but relax. You may not think so, but I’m choosy, and I can’t just stop going out. I refuse to let fear win.” Lonne remained resolute in the pursuit of her happiness. Not even a claw hammer could stop her.
“Me too, we just fight it in different way. Go back to your basketball game, lock your doors and I’ll see you soon.” Noa realized Lonne never mentioned the man she met. “Oh, what about the man you went to meet?”
“Hmmm, sweet, kind, retired with pos-si-bil-i-ties.” Lonne drew the word out deliberately to emphasis his potential. “He’s hard to read, holds his cards close to the his chest, and you know me, that just makes him all the more intriguing.”
“So you’ll see him again?”
“Oh yeah, definitely.”
The hunt was on.
Chapter 9: PIECES OF ME
“Thank God, you made it back, and it wasn’t you.” Noa felt the tension dissipate from top to bottom.
Lonne laughed. “Of course I did. I always do.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Noa could hear the Lakers’ game playing in the background. She knew Lonne flipped it on the moment she walked in the door, even before checking her messages.
“No, I just got here. What’s going on?” Lonne’s tone grew somber.
“They found another woman, in pieces, along the 91 Freeway from Compton to Riverside.”
“When?” Lonne muted the game.
“It’s in this morning’s paper and all over the Net. From what they can piece together, literally, she appears to be in her mid to late forties, blue eyes, blonde--with a little help, and Caucasian. Sounded just like you to me. I’ve had you dead for the past twelve hours. You have to stop turning that cell phone off!”
Lonne believed her cell phone was for her service, not she a servant to it. She turned it off until needed, and the rest of the world could leave a message that would be answered when convenient.
“You should have called.”
“I tried, and who should I call? Your daughters thought you were with me!”
“Oh my, I see what you mean. That would have really blown my cover. Thanks for not alarming them. Give me details.”
Lonne’s seventeen-year-old daughter often spent the night with her married older sister when Lonne was out of town on business or pleasure. Lonne loved the idea of trading baby-sitting duties with her daughter, and built up redeemable overnights by watching her baby granddaughter.
“That’s about all they have right now. No car, no identification. Just another dead middle age woman. They did say this one fits the same MO. All manicured, pedicured, waxed and lifted. I swear, I thought it was you.”
“I feel for the poor woman. That’s a hell of a lot of maintenance to go though to end up in a ditch. It’s some sick bastard for sure.”
“And you have all your information right out there for the world to read, and pictures too! If he has Internet access, and I’m sure he does, he has his choice of women to choose from.”
“But why? Why would anyone want to do that to someone?” Lonne’s voice revealed the vulnerability she felt, but hoped was disguised.
“Because he can. Because he’s pissed at women. Because she rejected him. Because she reminds him of someone who hurt him. Because she made herself available and he saw an opportunity. She was the right woman in the right place at the right time.” Noa paraphrased a political sound bite. “She was the one he wanted to do, and he didn’t have loving on his mind.”
“OK, OK, I get your point. I’ll be more careful. No more meeting strangers in unfamiliar places until they catch this guy. Geez, a girl can’t have a good time anymore without worrying about getting hacked to death. What is America coming to?”
Noa wondered too. Often, when she closed the beach house up for the night by methodically locking all the doors and windows, she questioned what she was locking out. Certainly, the cool night ocean breeze, but primarily man. She bolted the door against the predatory night stalkers, hillside stranglers, serial rapists and mass murderers who threatened her safety and security simple because she was a single woman who lived alone. A target, easy prey. The evolution of man has not distanced us far from cave man tactics.
Noa took precautions. Lonne threw caution to the wind. She played the odds. They had both lived long enough to know women who were mugged, robbed and raped. It often hit close to home. A man who followed her home from Trader Joes on a Saturday morning raped Noa’s next-door neighbor years earlier. It did not always happen to someone else.
“Just be careful. Even the guy who looks and acts like a gentleman can turn ugly. There are too many guys out there you can not trust, and you take off for weekends and overnights without so much as asking their last name. Just do a little checking first, that’s all I’m asking.” Noa cut short the lecture even though she was concerned for Lonne’s safety.
“Finding someone to love shouldn’t be this hard. Now we have to risk our lives every time we log on and try to hook up with someone. And Noa, don’t you dare remind me again about the guy from Seattle with the hammer.”
Noa laughed. “That was an eye opener, but I know I have worn that story out.”
In the early days of Internet dating an article appeared in the Los Angeles Times detailing a cyber date gone wrong. When the woman realized she was with a psycho and tried to leave the restaurant, he followed her to her car and attacked her with a hammer. The woman was Lonne. It was extracurricular on Lonne’s behalf. She was married, but seeking. It was the catalyst that brought about the demise of marriage number two.
“That was a long time ago, and I’m smarter now—I valet, Lonne quipped. “Seriously, I’m fine, and thanks for caring, but relax. You may not think so, but I’m choosy, and I can’t just stop going out. I refuse to let fear win.” Lonne remained resolute in the pursuit of her happiness. Not even a claw hammer could stop her.
“Me too, we just fight it in different way. Go back to your basketball game, lock your doors and I’ll see you soon.” Noa realized Lonne never mentioned the man she met. “Oh, what about the man you went to meet?”
“Hmmm, sweet, kind, retired with pos-si-bil-i-ties.” Lonne drew the word out deliberately to emphasis his potential. “He’s hard to read, holds his cards close to the his chest, and you know me, that just makes him all the more intriguing.”
“So you’ll see him again?”
“Oh yeah, definitely.”
The hunt was on.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Chapter 8: Sons and Guns
We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. Martin Luther King Jr.
Noa opened the letter. The recognition of the handwriting brought a flood of emotion and memories into her heart and throat. She felt her heart quicken. Three weeks had passed and no word. Nothing. The stillness frightened her. She feared a trio of uniformed men would appear at her door. They would not be welcomed.
Noa’s knowledge of war was limited, and for that she was thankful. It was a subject she was uncomfortable with, yet felt passionately about. She sensed her country acted too swiftly in response to the attack on native soil, and thereby, missed an opportunity to become citizens of the world. Instead, they responded in like kind with an eye for an eye, a life for a life times the power of America, and drew a dividing line between the USA and most of the world.
As a super power their retaliation had to be bigger, more powerful. A swift and clear win. It seemed very old school to Noa. Yet, she was involved in the war in the most personal sense. Her son was there embroiled in the battle for hearts and minds while carrying a very big gun.
Noa’s heart melted at the very sight of his handwriting. She pressed the paper he rested his hand on while selecting words to convey his thoughts to her check, knowing his DNA was there from the saliva used to seal the letter before it began its two week journey to her. It was as close as she could get to him. Noa held the letter to her face and inhaled deeply. She could smell him.
Blessed or cursed with a super sense of smell and taste, Noa remember the scent of each of her children, a few choice lovers and a couple of beloved pets. They were embedded in her soul, and frequently came wafting back at the most unsuspecting moments. This was truly one of the times she received the scent as a blessing.
Jake, her baby boy, was an American specimen of raw manhood, strong beliefs, a desire to make a difference, and at seventeen, he was itching to get started.
September 11 was his calling. Still in high school, he begged Noa to let him join the Marines. Noa recalled the moment with intense pride and gut wrenching fear.
“But Mom, I’m going to do it as soon as I turn eighteen, so what difference does it make if I do it now?” Jake’s lithe six foot two frame, vibrating with energy, leaned forward and waited for Noa’s answer.
“I’m not gong to sign for something you may later regret. The world is very unsettled right now. Take some time. Wait. It’s too dangerous, and bottom line—I don’t want you to go.” Noa jutted a replica of Jake’s strong jawline toward him, and hoped against hope he would change his mind. But indecisiveness had never been Jake’s problem. He chose sports, friends and hobbies with careful consideration, and stood by them. Noa knew he would be a Marine. When you are laying a life foundation, conviction counts.
Jake stood and paced the length of the room and back, then turned and faced Noa straight on. He was so close she could feel his breathe as he spoke.
“If not me, then who? Who should go? Should somebody else’s son die protecting us, me, you, your grandchildren, my nieces and nephews?”
“I’m only asking you to wait until you’re certain it’s the right decision. Then, if that’s what you want, I won’t stand in the way of your heart’s desire.” Noa’s eyes welled with emotion. “And if you still believe this is your way to make a difference, then do it.”
“Mom, you gotta believe.”
Noa knew he was right. It was a triumphant moment of motherhood. Confirmation of a job well done. “Then be the best Marine you can be.” Noa cupped Jake’s cheeks loosely in her hands. “And I have no doubt that will be a damn good one.”
Noa wrapped each word of the letter around her heart, and then placed it on the bedside table to be read again when comfort and closeness were needed.
Noa opened the letter. The recognition of the handwriting brought a flood of emotion and memories into her heart and throat. She felt her heart quicken. Three weeks had passed and no word. Nothing. The stillness frightened her. She feared a trio of uniformed men would appear at her door. They would not be welcomed.
Noa’s knowledge of war was limited, and for that she was thankful. It was a subject she was uncomfortable with, yet felt passionately about. She sensed her country acted too swiftly in response to the attack on native soil, and thereby, missed an opportunity to become citizens of the world. Instead, they responded in like kind with an eye for an eye, a life for a life times the power of America, and drew a dividing line between the USA and most of the world.
As a super power their retaliation had to be bigger, more powerful. A swift and clear win. It seemed very old school to Noa. Yet, she was involved in the war in the most personal sense. Her son was there embroiled in the battle for hearts and minds while carrying a very big gun.
Noa’s heart melted at the very sight of his handwriting. She pressed the paper he rested his hand on while selecting words to convey his thoughts to her check, knowing his DNA was there from the saliva used to seal the letter before it began its two week journey to her. It was as close as she could get to him. Noa held the letter to her face and inhaled deeply. She could smell him.
Blessed or cursed with a super sense of smell and taste, Noa remember the scent of each of her children, a few choice lovers and a couple of beloved pets. They were embedded in her soul, and frequently came wafting back at the most unsuspecting moments. This was truly one of the times she received the scent as a blessing.
Jake, her baby boy, was an American specimen of raw manhood, strong beliefs, a desire to make a difference, and at seventeen, he was itching to get started.
September 11 was his calling. Still in high school, he begged Noa to let him join the Marines. Noa recalled the moment with intense pride and gut wrenching fear.
“But Mom, I’m going to do it as soon as I turn eighteen, so what difference does it make if I do it now?” Jake’s lithe six foot two frame, vibrating with energy, leaned forward and waited for Noa’s answer.
“I’m not gong to sign for something you may later regret. The world is very unsettled right now. Take some time. Wait. It’s too dangerous, and bottom line—I don’t want you to go.” Noa jutted a replica of Jake’s strong jawline toward him, and hoped against hope he would change his mind. But indecisiveness had never been Jake’s problem. He chose sports, friends and hobbies with careful consideration, and stood by them. Noa knew he would be a Marine. When you are laying a life foundation, conviction counts.
Jake stood and paced the length of the room and back, then turned and faced Noa straight on. He was so close she could feel his breathe as he spoke.
“If not me, then who? Who should go? Should somebody else’s son die protecting us, me, you, your grandchildren, my nieces and nephews?”
“I’m only asking you to wait until you’re certain it’s the right decision. Then, if that’s what you want, I won’t stand in the way of your heart’s desire.” Noa’s eyes welled with emotion. “And if you still believe this is your way to make a difference, then do it.”
“Mom, you gotta believe.”
Noa knew he was right. It was a triumphant moment of motherhood. Confirmation of a job well done. “Then be the best Marine you can be.” Noa cupped Jake’s cheeks loosely in her hands. “And I have no doubt that will be a damn good one.”
Noa wrapped each word of the letter around her heart, and then placed it on the bedside table to be read again when comfort and closeness were needed.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Worth It
Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. Dr. Seuss
Chapter 7: THE TIES THAT BIND
“Lonne, don’t you think this is a little premature?” Noa cautioned, feeling worry and concern for Lonne’s safety, and questioning the wisdom of the romance roulette wheel her friend was constantly spinning.
“No, besides, what difference does it make whether it’s the desert, or next door? Every date has the chance of being divine or a disaster. Believe me, distance is not the determining factor.”
Lonne’s search for love knew no boundaries. Her quest was no longer confined to Los Angeles.
“We’ve talked several times on the phone, and he seems sincere. And, let’s face it, I’d rather drive for a couple of hours and see him on his own turf, than just meet somewhere halfway. If he can’t back up what he’s told me, then I’ll enjoy the desert heat and head back to LA. Besides, I can use a little getaway.” Lonne appreciated Noa’s concern, but pressed ahead with her plan.
Love, like water, will pursue its own path, and Lonne enjoyed being a plaything in the hands of destiny.
“He can’t be any worse than the midget I met on Match!”
Lonne was able to find humor in the mismatches of online dating services, but continued to enjoy the possibilities they offered. She swore it was one of the best ways for women “of a certain age” to meet available men. It was risky, but Lonne was willing to take the risk in order to reap the potential reward of love. In the meantime, she settled for new scenery, new restaurants and naughty sex.
Fast approaching fifty, Lonne swore she had never been married to a man she loved, or loved by a man she married. Her marriages were matters of pressure, possession and power. Even in Sweden, during the seventies it was difficult being an unwed mother. So Lonne married, gave birth, sank into a dark depression, and planned her escape.
After a bitter divorce battle, and the realization she would have to leave her daughter behind for the time being, Lonne left. It was that, or become another Swedish suicide statistic. Sometimes you have to save your own life first.
With her first marriage behind her, Lonne left homeland and family behind and headed for Los Angeles. She was scared, but experience had already taught her everything worthwhile in life is risky and sometimes you just have to drop your pants and slide on the ice. She wanted more. More of everything, and America dangled unlimited possibilities just across the sea. The lure of warm days and hot nights crystallized her decision. Hello LA! She was here to play.
Her second marriage came soon after arriving. Blond, beautiful and young enough to still be filled with hope, Lonne embarked on a whirlwind romance and married a wealthy older man two days after his divorce was final, and six weeks after they met. His financial position allowed Lonne to bring her daughter to LA every summer and during the holiday winter break. She enjoyed a palatial home on New York Hill in Palos Verdes Estates, cemented her financial security with the birth of another baby girl, took up golf and shopping to fill her days, fantasized about other men, and uttered an occasional oh and ah while enduring her husband’s attempts at intimacy during those years filled with orgasmless nights.
She had everything, except the love she traveled thousands of miles to find. Her husband was a decent man, but not a good match for the depth of lusty desires Lonne harbored in her heart. She did not stray because she found pleasure in being unfaithful; instead she was unfulfilled and driven by her very nature to fill that vacuum.
“Well, at least give me a little information about him, and call me when you get back.” Noa wrote down the information, and reminded Lonne to be careful. “Take care, and I’ll talk to you when you return.” Noa placed the phone back on the cradle. She tucked the piece of paper inside the desk drawer and hoped she would never have to use the information listed on it. Acts, not words, form the ties that bind.
Noa, unlike Lonne, was not a multiple serial dater. Her style was more sequential, never dually engaged. One man, and long term was the only acceptable mating style for her. She did not need to be married, but she did need to be mated, or at least engaged in the dance.
Chapter 7: THE TIES THAT BIND
“Lonne, don’t you think this is a little premature?” Noa cautioned, feeling worry and concern for Lonne’s safety, and questioning the wisdom of the romance roulette wheel her friend was constantly spinning.
“No, besides, what difference does it make whether it’s the desert, or next door? Every date has the chance of being divine or a disaster. Believe me, distance is not the determining factor.”
Lonne’s search for love knew no boundaries. Her quest was no longer confined to Los Angeles.
“We’ve talked several times on the phone, and he seems sincere. And, let’s face it, I’d rather drive for a couple of hours and see him on his own turf, than just meet somewhere halfway. If he can’t back up what he’s told me, then I’ll enjoy the desert heat and head back to LA. Besides, I can use a little getaway.” Lonne appreciated Noa’s concern, but pressed ahead with her plan.
Love, like water, will pursue its own path, and Lonne enjoyed being a plaything in the hands of destiny.
“He can’t be any worse than the midget I met on Match!”
Lonne was able to find humor in the mismatches of online dating services, but continued to enjoy the possibilities they offered. She swore it was one of the best ways for women “of a certain age” to meet available men. It was risky, but Lonne was willing to take the risk in order to reap the potential reward of love. In the meantime, she settled for new scenery, new restaurants and naughty sex.
Fast approaching fifty, Lonne swore she had never been married to a man she loved, or loved by a man she married. Her marriages were matters of pressure, possession and power. Even in Sweden, during the seventies it was difficult being an unwed mother. So Lonne married, gave birth, sank into a dark depression, and planned her escape.
After a bitter divorce battle, and the realization she would have to leave her daughter behind for the time being, Lonne left. It was that, or become another Swedish suicide statistic. Sometimes you have to save your own life first.
With her first marriage behind her, Lonne left homeland and family behind and headed for Los Angeles. She was scared, but experience had already taught her everything worthwhile in life is risky and sometimes you just have to drop your pants and slide on the ice. She wanted more. More of everything, and America dangled unlimited possibilities just across the sea. The lure of warm days and hot nights crystallized her decision. Hello LA! She was here to play.
Her second marriage came soon after arriving. Blond, beautiful and young enough to still be filled with hope, Lonne embarked on a whirlwind romance and married a wealthy older man two days after his divorce was final, and six weeks after they met. His financial position allowed Lonne to bring her daughter to LA every summer and during the holiday winter break. She enjoyed a palatial home on New York Hill in Palos Verdes Estates, cemented her financial security with the birth of another baby girl, took up golf and shopping to fill her days, fantasized about other men, and uttered an occasional oh and ah while enduring her husband’s attempts at intimacy during those years filled with orgasmless nights.
She had everything, except the love she traveled thousands of miles to find. Her husband was a decent man, but not a good match for the depth of lusty desires Lonne harbored in her heart. She did not stray because she found pleasure in being unfaithful; instead she was unfulfilled and driven by her very nature to fill that vacuum.
“Well, at least give me a little information about him, and call me when you get back.” Noa wrote down the information, and reminded Lonne to be careful. “Take care, and I’ll talk to you when you return.” Noa placed the phone back on the cradle. She tucked the piece of paper inside the desk drawer and hoped she would never have to use the information listed on it. Acts, not words, form the ties that bind.
Noa, unlike Lonne, was not a multiple serial dater. Her style was more sequential, never dually engaged. One man, and long term was the only acceptable mating style for her. She did not need to be married, but she did need to be mated, or at least engaged in the dance.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Friday Night Fiction Chapter 6
If you missed the first 5 chapters you can find them at http://noarose.blogspot.com/
Everyone’s a star and deserves the right to twinkle. Marilyn Monroe
Chapter 6: THE PROPOSAL
Noa’s mind lilted through a replay of the evening’s conversation on the forty-five minutes drive back to Palos Verdes. Pleasant enough, even though it meant another problem for Noa to handle in her already overloaded schedule. Noa exhaled slowly. I think that‘s the one thing I want more of, time. It’s becomes more precious as there is less of it to waste. Spend it wisely. Noa chided herself.
Noa knew her friends thought she was out of her mind to continue the cat and mouse relationship with Jett, and maybe they were right, but Noa was not one to give up. She didn’t believe in throwing people out of her life, especially if she had once loved them, or perhaps loved them still. She believed love did not vanish, it simply morphed into another form of caring. Love might not be constant, but for Noa, it was eternal. But she would rather spend the rest of her life alone, than endure it with a watered down version of true love. She could never be satisfied with settling.
To be honest, Noa found most men self-adsorbed, boorish and intellectual duds. Forget biceps, Noa found brains the sexiest part of a man’s anatomy. Jimmy Carter, Henry Kissinger, Alan Greenspan, Colin Powell, Stephen Hawkings and Bill Clinton were men among the living she would love to spend an evening with---dinner only and wives invited. The dead list was longer.
Even as a teenager, Noa abhorred the dating scene. To her it was a waste of time to spend an entire evening with someone whom she was not remotely interested in, just to have a date. There were so many more satisfying ways to spend her time. Reading the classics, plein-air painting and running like a gazelle through the rolling hills of her parent’s farmland. Visiting her grandmother, babysitting nieces and nephews, and preparing for college –Noa had goals, and getting out of Iowa was a top priority. It was wide-open country filled with too many narrow minds.
Boys, especially the locals, were of little interest and did not fit into Noa’s plan. Noa knew falling in love with a local boy would mean never leaving, and living the life of his choice, not hers. She needed to pursue her own passions and design her own life. A path few chose in her area and era.
Noa mused as she drove down PCH. How far from Iowa she had come! But not without pain, loss and other life lessons sometimes administered with a stinging slap, and other times by slow euthanasia. The letting go was always hard, but Noa knew no one escaped it.
Noa smiled as she recalled the first time she met Jett. Bel Air Hotel, 1997. She returned the night before from a visit to Iowa to hire a new innkeeper at her bed and breakfast inn, a holdover from her divorce settlement. With that accomplished, and a quick family get together dinner, Noa flew back to LA to finalize the biggest deal of her career.
Jett was the buyer, even though Noa had never met him. The transaction was conducted via phone, fax and Fed-X. Jett was familiar with the land, later confessed to seeing Noa’s picture in one of the glossy upscale real estate magazines, and called her to write the offer. Sometimes a girl gets lucky.
Noa valet parked, and crossed the footbridge entrance. The Bel Air was her favorite hotel in Los Angeles. Old, lushly landscaped, regal and romantic, it was tucked away on Stone Canyon Drive in ritzy Bel Air. Noa recalled her last visit was an overnight stay with her ex-husband in an attempt to resuscitate their dying marriage. She remembered the setting, the food, the room and the sadness that not even a luxurious setting with all its amenities could fill the emptiness in her heart. Marriage is difficult when your spouse is a stranger. Noa had not returned since.
The patio dining room was choice seating for Saturday brunch. Noa was escorted to Jett’s table. He stood, all six feet four inches, and Noa extended her hand.
“Finally, we meet!” At five feet seven Noa rarely felt short, but Jett towered above her.
“Hello, Miss Noa, you look exactly like your photo.” The voice was deep and low.
Noa laughed. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“Well, you never know.” Jett chuckled, “Some of those realtor photos are pretty old. You know, more the way we were, not the way we are.”
A slow smile crossed Noa’s lips. A sense of humor, yes, she liked that.
“True. But I don’t like any surprises.” Noa realized her faux pas immediately. Jett had not mentioned he was black, but he also did not mention he was tall or any other physical characteristic. Maybe he saw it as a non-issue. Noa did. She hoped she had not offended him before she even sat down.
“Are you surprised?” His manner was friendly, but mildly taunting.
“Pleasantly.” Noa placed her napkin on her lap, and then looked up to meet his eyes.
“Right answer. Here, this is for you. A little token of my appreciation. You did a great job. Very professional.” Jett pushed the gift bag toward Noa.
“You didn’t have to do this. Shall I open it now?” Noa was accustomed to purchasing gifts for her clients, not receiving one from them.
“Please. I’d like to know if you like it.”
Noa removed the ribbon from the first box—perfume. “Oh, I love it! It’s one of my favorites, Poeme. And, what’s this? More?” Noa lifted the second box from the bag.
“I couldn’t decide which to purchase, so I took both. I’m usually not indecisive, but scent is so personal. If it’s not for you, you can exchange it at Neiman Marcus.”
Noa looked at the second bottle, -----she was not familiar with it, but it would become one of her favorite scents. “You didn’t have to do this, but thank you.”
During the weeks prior they had engaged in many phone calls, primarily business, but Noa had informed Jett, as well as the rest of her current clients, when she was going to be out of town. He inquired if her husband would be traveling with her, and that prompted a short foray into her marital status and his. Noa did not find this unusual. The client agent relationship could become quite close in a very short time. It was important to develop trust early on. Revealing personal facts was an effective way to develop the relationship, and discover the motivation and needs of a client.
“You’re not finished yet.” Jett glanced at the bag.
Noa looked perplexed, then removed the tissue from the bottom of the bag to find a slim, narrow box. A sliver pen. “Oh, this is exquisite!”
“For your next offer, and our next deal.”
“I’ll toast to that.” Noa placed the gifts on the chair next to hers, and lifted her champagne glass. This was an unusual man, she thought, and very intriguing.
In the middle of their breakfast there was a flurry of activity at the reserved table next to theirs.
“Secret Service.” Jett said, motioning with his eyes to the dark suited duo.
Moments later, Nancy Reagan entered with friends, and was seated for brunch.
She witnessed the proposal.
After the champagne, Eggs Benedict and cappuccino, the server brought a small cake to their table.
“For me?” Noa looked perplexed but pleased.
“A belated birthday cake. You did have a birthday while you were away, right?”
Noa was amazed he remembered. She had casually mentioned her family in Iowa was having a small dinner in honor of the August birthdays in the family, and since that included her, she had to stay an extra day. She said it as a means of explaining her delayed return to LA.
“How kind and thoughtful of you. It’s been years since I had a birthday cake! And it’s chocolate, my favorite.” Noa declined the candle offered, but heartily accepted the generous portion from the server.
Jett and Noa lingered over another glass of champagne. Then without warning, Jett placed his napkin on the chair next to him, and stood. Noa took this as a cue that brunch was over, and she pushed her chair back in preparation to leave.
Jett suddenly knelt on one knee before Noa, and took her left hand in his. Noa’s face registered confusion first, followed by complete disbelief. Brunch had proven what Noa suspected. Jett Krabe lived large. But this was beyond large.
“Noa, will you marry me?” By now the attention of most of the diners was focused on table one.
Noa laughed nervously. “Jett, get up. Is this some kind of joke?”
“I never joke about money or love.” Jett remained on his knee. “ I also don’t hesitate to go after what I want. I fell in love with who you are before I ever saw you. Today just confirmed that.”
Noa sat stunned by the turn of events. “Please, Jett. People are staring.” Noa struggled to make sense of the moment. There was a current flowing between them from the moment she arrived. But this was incomprehensible, and as close to crazy and impetuous as Noa had ever come, but she said yes.
Such a moment.
Everyone’s a star and deserves the right to twinkle. Marilyn Monroe
Chapter 6: THE PROPOSAL
Noa’s mind lilted through a replay of the evening’s conversation on the forty-five minutes drive back to Palos Verdes. Pleasant enough, even though it meant another problem for Noa to handle in her already overloaded schedule. Noa exhaled slowly. I think that‘s the one thing I want more of, time. It’s becomes more precious as there is less of it to waste. Spend it wisely. Noa chided herself.
Noa knew her friends thought she was out of her mind to continue the cat and mouse relationship with Jett, and maybe they were right, but Noa was not one to give up. She didn’t believe in throwing people out of her life, especially if she had once loved them, or perhaps loved them still. She believed love did not vanish, it simply morphed into another form of caring. Love might not be constant, but for Noa, it was eternal. But she would rather spend the rest of her life alone, than endure it with a watered down version of true love. She could never be satisfied with settling.
To be honest, Noa found most men self-adsorbed, boorish and intellectual duds. Forget biceps, Noa found brains the sexiest part of a man’s anatomy. Jimmy Carter, Henry Kissinger, Alan Greenspan, Colin Powell, Stephen Hawkings and Bill Clinton were men among the living she would love to spend an evening with---dinner only and wives invited. The dead list was longer.
Even as a teenager, Noa abhorred the dating scene. To her it was a waste of time to spend an entire evening with someone whom she was not remotely interested in, just to have a date. There were so many more satisfying ways to spend her time. Reading the classics, plein-air painting and running like a gazelle through the rolling hills of her parent’s farmland. Visiting her grandmother, babysitting nieces and nephews, and preparing for college –Noa had goals, and getting out of Iowa was a top priority. It was wide-open country filled with too many narrow minds.
Boys, especially the locals, were of little interest and did not fit into Noa’s plan. Noa knew falling in love with a local boy would mean never leaving, and living the life of his choice, not hers. She needed to pursue her own passions and design her own life. A path few chose in her area and era.
Noa mused as she drove down PCH. How far from Iowa she had come! But not without pain, loss and other life lessons sometimes administered with a stinging slap, and other times by slow euthanasia. The letting go was always hard, but Noa knew no one escaped it.
Noa smiled as she recalled the first time she met Jett. Bel Air Hotel, 1997. She returned the night before from a visit to Iowa to hire a new innkeeper at her bed and breakfast inn, a holdover from her divorce settlement. With that accomplished, and a quick family get together dinner, Noa flew back to LA to finalize the biggest deal of her career.
Jett was the buyer, even though Noa had never met him. The transaction was conducted via phone, fax and Fed-X. Jett was familiar with the land, later confessed to seeing Noa’s picture in one of the glossy upscale real estate magazines, and called her to write the offer. Sometimes a girl gets lucky.
Noa valet parked, and crossed the footbridge entrance. The Bel Air was her favorite hotel in Los Angeles. Old, lushly landscaped, regal and romantic, it was tucked away on Stone Canyon Drive in ritzy Bel Air. Noa recalled her last visit was an overnight stay with her ex-husband in an attempt to resuscitate their dying marriage. She remembered the setting, the food, the room and the sadness that not even a luxurious setting with all its amenities could fill the emptiness in her heart. Marriage is difficult when your spouse is a stranger. Noa had not returned since.
The patio dining room was choice seating for Saturday brunch. Noa was escorted to Jett’s table. He stood, all six feet four inches, and Noa extended her hand.
“Finally, we meet!” At five feet seven Noa rarely felt short, but Jett towered above her.
“Hello, Miss Noa, you look exactly like your photo.” The voice was deep and low.
Noa laughed. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“Well, you never know.” Jett chuckled, “Some of those realtor photos are pretty old. You know, more the way we were, not the way we are.”
A slow smile crossed Noa’s lips. A sense of humor, yes, she liked that.
“True. But I don’t like any surprises.” Noa realized her faux pas immediately. Jett had not mentioned he was black, but he also did not mention he was tall or any other physical characteristic. Maybe he saw it as a non-issue. Noa did. She hoped she had not offended him before she even sat down.
“Are you surprised?” His manner was friendly, but mildly taunting.
“Pleasantly.” Noa placed her napkin on her lap, and then looked up to meet his eyes.
“Right answer. Here, this is for you. A little token of my appreciation. You did a great job. Very professional.” Jett pushed the gift bag toward Noa.
“You didn’t have to do this. Shall I open it now?” Noa was accustomed to purchasing gifts for her clients, not receiving one from them.
“Please. I’d like to know if you like it.”
Noa removed the ribbon from the first box—perfume. “Oh, I love it! It’s one of my favorites, Poeme. And, what’s this? More?” Noa lifted the second box from the bag.
“I couldn’t decide which to purchase, so I took both. I’m usually not indecisive, but scent is so personal. If it’s not for you, you can exchange it at Neiman Marcus.”
Noa looked at the second bottle, -----she was not familiar with it, but it would become one of her favorite scents. “You didn’t have to do this, but thank you.”
During the weeks prior they had engaged in many phone calls, primarily business, but Noa had informed Jett, as well as the rest of her current clients, when she was going to be out of town. He inquired if her husband would be traveling with her, and that prompted a short foray into her marital status and his. Noa did not find this unusual. The client agent relationship could become quite close in a very short time. It was important to develop trust early on. Revealing personal facts was an effective way to develop the relationship, and discover the motivation and needs of a client.
“You’re not finished yet.” Jett glanced at the bag.
Noa looked perplexed, then removed the tissue from the bottom of the bag to find a slim, narrow box. A sliver pen. “Oh, this is exquisite!”
“For your next offer, and our next deal.”
“I’ll toast to that.” Noa placed the gifts on the chair next to hers, and lifted her champagne glass. This was an unusual man, she thought, and very intriguing.
In the middle of their breakfast there was a flurry of activity at the reserved table next to theirs.
“Secret Service.” Jett said, motioning with his eyes to the dark suited duo.
Moments later, Nancy Reagan entered with friends, and was seated for brunch.
She witnessed the proposal.
After the champagne, Eggs Benedict and cappuccino, the server brought a small cake to their table.
“For me?” Noa looked perplexed but pleased.
“A belated birthday cake. You did have a birthday while you were away, right?”
Noa was amazed he remembered. She had casually mentioned her family in Iowa was having a small dinner in honor of the August birthdays in the family, and since that included her, she had to stay an extra day. She said it as a means of explaining her delayed return to LA.
“How kind and thoughtful of you. It’s been years since I had a birthday cake! And it’s chocolate, my favorite.” Noa declined the candle offered, but heartily accepted the generous portion from the server.
Jett and Noa lingered over another glass of champagne. Then without warning, Jett placed his napkin on the chair next to him, and stood. Noa took this as a cue that brunch was over, and she pushed her chair back in preparation to leave.
Jett suddenly knelt on one knee before Noa, and took her left hand in his. Noa’s face registered confusion first, followed by complete disbelief. Brunch had proven what Noa suspected. Jett Krabe lived large. But this was beyond large.
“Noa, will you marry me?” By now the attention of most of the diners was focused on table one.
Noa laughed nervously. “Jett, get up. Is this some kind of joke?”
“I never joke about money or love.” Jett remained on his knee. “ I also don’t hesitate to go after what I want. I fell in love with who you are before I ever saw you. Today just confirmed that.”
Noa sat stunned by the turn of events. “Please, Jett. People are staring.” Noa struggled to make sense of the moment. There was a current flowing between them from the moment she arrived. But this was incomprehensible, and as close to crazy and impetuous as Noa had ever come, but she said yes.
Such a moment.
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