Falling

If he hadn’t called “Nurse!” it never would have happened. The place was a ‘concept’ bar. Sports on one side, the ‘man hater’ channels or endless showings of “Pretty Woman, Message In A Bottle, Affair To Remember” or “Sex in the City.” And like all new bars, it is the newest “hot” bar until next week.1

I join my friends there for the first game of the season, Bears vs. Packers. They sit me at the head of the table where the check usually comes, but it was my first time in the joint and I got there last.2

I never saw her enter. She may have been there before I was. We’re sitting back to back as it turned out. Our chairs not separated by more than two feet, but I may never have noticed her because of the game.3

Being a Bears fan requires a certain amount of “medication.” If the Bears win, it’s necessary for the celebration, if the Bears lose, it’s necessary to coax your friends back in off the ledge. Since you never know ahead of time whether they will win or lose, you practice preventive medicine. To be on the safe side, I favor lots of preventive medicine. 4

Alcohol, usually beer, is my medication of choice. But whether it is the change of season, the Argyle socks I am wearing, or the fact that I am not a designated driver that night, I’m drinking Scotch and soda with a wedge of lime.5

Late in the second half, the Bears are driving deep into Packer territory in a close game. It’s second down and three from the Packers thirty-four when I order another. When the waitress comes back with a tray full of drinks, it is third and two from the fourteen. The waitress starts down at the opposite end of our table and as she reached me she still has maybe a half dozen drinks. 6

Just then a lout from another table cries out “Nurse, I need my medication!” She glances back, saying she’d be there in a minute as she places a drink in front of me. Just then the Bears score on crossing pattern over the middle. After the cheers die down, I grab my drink and almost regurgitate it in mid swallow. What I assume is the wedge of lime turns out to be the mint leaves of a Mojito.7

Since there is a TV timeout for the point after, I take the Mojito back to the bar. I follow a very shapely backside to the bar. We both put the drinks down and as the bartender walks up Ms. Shapely Backside and I simultaneously say “I got the wrong drink.”8

We look at each other. I am pleased to be gazing into a fetching pair of lovely green eyes in a gorgeous face framed by corn silk blonde hair. Again simultaneously “Mojito?” I ask and she,“Scotch and soda?” 9

She pushes the Scotch and soda toward me and reaches for the Mojito. “I accidentally sipped it, you may want to get a fresh one,” I caution.10

“Alcohol will kill any germs,” I’m thinking this girl’s alright. And she says taking a rather generous sip. “Didya’ put any date rape drug in it?”11

“No,” I said, “Do you want me to? I hate to disappoint a lady on the first date. I already know you’re not afraid of germs, eh?”12

“Nope, besides how will you kiss me goodnight if I’m afraid of germs?” she parries.13

“I do like your way of thinking. My name’s Finbar Morissey, but everyone calls me Barry,” I say extending my hand.14

She takes it, firmly returning the shake. “Begorrah, Finbar, me names Katya Danicic.”15

“Danny’s sick?”16

“No, D A N I C I C” she spells it out and pronounces it for me as Den e sick, “It’s Slovenian.”17

“There’s nothing more irresistible than a naked Slovenian woman or so I’ve been told.”18

“You be sure to let me know next time you see one,” she says laughing.19

“I was kinda hopin’ you’d be there and I wouldn’t have to,” I said immediately blushing. “Excuse me, that was out of line. I apologize, I’m not sure what came over me.”20

“I’ve cast a Slovenian love spell upon you and now your mine to command,” she is laughing again and I swear it sounds like tiny bells softly chiming across a snow-covered meadow. “Now buy me another drink, please.”21

“I’d just as soon make it breakfast….” Oh, Geez, there I go again. Maybe she has cast a spell on me. “Look I’m sorry, pretty girls make me say stupid things. Would you like another Mojito?” I am scrambling.22

“Yes, please, we’ll see about breakfast later, Sport. But that pretty girl thing is not half bad.” 23

And time pleasantly passes by. Before I know it, the game is over, Bears lose and... I don’t care. Katya has gone to powder her nose, and the boys crowd around, plying me with questions.24

“It’s like I told ya’ he’s doing it for LAFS,” Jerry spouts.25

“What are you talking about, she seems like a swell kid. I’m not stringing her along.” 26

“No, L A F S, love at first sight,” he says.27

“I’m not…there’s no way…just get out of here. I’ll catch up with ya’ later,” I plead.28

Couldn’t be, could it? This whole thing with Katya is just an evening, just a couple of drinks. Then why does it feel so comfortable? Why do I actually miss her? What the hell are you talking about, miss her! Pull yourself together or the next thing you know, your tears will make your mascara run, miss her!29

“Hi, did you miss me? Katya giggles as I almost jump off the barstool.30

“No, I mean yeah, you were gone awhile, thought you might have come to your senses and escaped my evil clutches,” I am grinning hugely for some unknown reason.31

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” And she loops her arm through mine and gives me a tug. “Let’s get out of here. I want to take a walk with my new boyfriend.” And her smile warms me down to my toes.32

“Your wish is my command.” 33

I am in uncharted waters. I should be freaked out by the boyfriend business. This has all the subtlety of falling off the top of the Hancock building, you can't do it without trying. Why am I not bothered that this mere wisp of a girl can disarm me better than a cop with a Taser just by placing her arm through mine?34

It is one of those impossibly soft summer evenings. We stroll along the lakefront. The air caresses us, enfolds us in a warm blanket of soft southern breezes that playfully tickle our skin. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. The air fairly sings with sweet hints of jasmine, honeysuckle or bougainvillea impossibly borne on trade winds from exotic, faraway islands.35

It’s not the alcohol, but I am intoxicated, deliciously dizzy, light hearted and light headed. We stroll along and fall into an easy and somehow familiar gait. Content not talking, Katya leans her head against my bicep. We enjoy the lake’s soft caesura crooning a lover’s lullaby in the background. 36

We stop. Under a sky of smiling stars, we embrace gently. Katya’s eyes widen briefly, then glisten with unspoken permission and a smile that parts her lips is a shy admission. And we kiss. 37

The world drops out from under my feet and time holds its breath as we seek each other in that oldest, softest tango. We each cling to the other in a tender dance that patiently erases any possibility of space, separation between us. Lingering contact sparks a relentless, building, breathless hunger. And as our bodies magically melt, and I breathe Katya in, I feel I am forever left behind. There can only be us.38