Rogue

“No.” She hadn't had a real date in over a year, and hadn't slept with anyone in two. Thinking about it that way was actually depressing, and most of the time she tried not to. She just hadn't met anyone she liked in a long time, and sometimes she wondered if she didn't want to. She had gone out with a number of people after she and Blake split up, and had gotten tired of being disappointed. It seemed simpler to just forget it. The blind dates she'd gone on, courtesy of friends, had been particularly awful, and the others, with people she'd met randomly, weren't much better. “I don't think I date,” she said awkwardly. “Not in a while anyway. It just seemed kind of pointless.” She knew a number of people who had met through the Internet, and she couldn't imagine doing that, so she had just stopped trying and gave up dating. She hadn't planned it that way, it just happened, and she was busy.

“Would you like to have dinner?” he asked gently. It seemed hard to believe that a woman with her looks, at her age, wasn't dating. He wondered if she'd been traumatized by her marriage, or maybe by some relationship since.

“That would be fine,” she said, as though he had suggested a meeting, and he looked at her with disbelief and amusement.

“Maxine, let's get something clear here. I have the feeling you think I'm inviting you to an interdisciplinary meeting of some kind. I think it's great that we're both physicians. But to be honest, I don't care if you 're a go-go dancer or a hairdresser. I like you. I think you're a beautiful woman. You're fun to talk to, you have a nice sense of humor, and you don't appear to hate men, which is rare these days. Your CV would put most people to shame, man or woman. I think you're attractive and sexy. I invited you to lunch because I wanted to get to know you, as a woman. I'm inviting you to dinner, because I want to get to know you better. That's a date. We eat dinner and talk and learn about each other. Dating. Something tells me that is not on your agenda. I can't figure out why, and if there's some serious reason for it, you should probably tell me. But if not, then I would like to ask you out for a date, for dinner. Is that okay with you?” She was smiling at him, and still blushing, as he explained it.

“Yes. Okay. I think I'm a little out of practice.”

“I can't even imagine why that would be, unless you've been wearing a burka.” He thought she was gorgeous, and most men would have agreed with him. She just somehow had managed to take herself off the dating market, and had been hiding her light under a bushel. “So when would you like to do dinner?”

“I don't know. I'm pretty free. I have a national psychiatric association dinner next week on Wednesday, otherwise I have no plans.”

“How about Tuesday? Why don't I pick you up at seven, and we'll go someplace nice?” He liked good restaurants and fine wines. It was the kind of evening she hadn't had in years, except with Blake and the kids, and those were less adult evenings. When she saw her old married friends, they didn't go to restaurants, and she went to their homes for dinner. And she was even doing that less often. She had let her social life dwindle from lack of attention and interest. Charles had reminded her, without meaning to, of what a slug she had been about going out. She was still startled by his invitation, but agreed to Tuesday. She didn't make a note of their dinner plans, she knew she'd remember, and she thanked him as they got up and left. “Where do you live, by the way?” She gave him the address, and said that he would meet her children when he picked her up, and he said he'd like that. He walked her back to her office, and she liked striding along beside him. He had been good company over lunch. And then she thanked him for lunch again, and walked back into her office, feeling dazed. She had a date. An honest-to-God dinner date, with a fairly attractive forty-nine-year-old internist. He had told her his age over lunch. She didn't know what to make of it, although she realized with a smile to herself that, if nothing else, her father would be pleased. She'd have to tell him about it the next time they talked. Or maybe after the date.

And then, all thoughts of Charles West went out of her head. Josephine was waiting in her office. Maxine took off her coat and hurried in to begin their session.

Chapter 7

Maxine's weekend was insanely busy. Jack had a soccer game, and she had to provide the snacks for their team. Sam went to two birthday parties, and she carpooled for both of them, and Daphne had ten friends in for pizza. It was the first time she had had friends over since the fateful beer party, so Maxine kept a close eye on them, but nothing untoward happened. Zelda was back on her feet again, but had the weekend off. She was going to an art exhibit and planning to see friends.