Heart Like Mine A Novel - By Amy Hatvany Page 0,18
head.
“My father took off when I was five,” he said. “And didn’t come back. Not cut out to be a dad, I guess.”
I nodded, realizing this was something else Victor and I had in common. Only my mother had asked my dad to leave, and not until I’d already moved out myself. “And your mom?”
A shadow of grief flashed across his face. “She had a stroke just after Ava was born. She was only fifty-three.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching out to briefly touch the back of his hand.
“Thanks,” he said. “I still pick up the phone to call her, you know? When something important happens?” He paused. “I’m always a little shocked when I remember she’s gone.” He shook his head. “Weird, huh?”
“Not at all,” I said, and he smiled.
“Wow,” he said, puffing out a breath. “Light topic we’ve chosen, here. Maybe we should start over?” I chuckled, nodded, and he continued. “So, tell me. How is it that a woman as accomplished and beautiful as you hasn’t been snapped up yet?”
I laughed. “Well, I’ve stayed pretty focused on my career, and I’m getting old and stuck in my ways.” I shrugged. “I don’t want to settle for anything less than wonderful.”
It was his turn to nod. “I can relate to that.”
“My best friend and I joke that we just need to find our perfect hat trick,” I told him, only to be answered with a confused look, so I clarified. “The exact right balance of physical, emotional, and mental connection with someone.”
“Okay.” Victor cocked his head to one side and scrunched his eyebrows together, clearly still baffled. “Why is that called a ‘hat trick,’ exactly?”
I set my wineglass down and waved my hand in the air a little. “In hockey or whatever, when the same player shoots three points in a game, they call it a hat trick. So if we hit it off with a man on all three levels—mental, physical, emotional—one after the other, he’s a hat trick.”
“Ah,” he said, understanding finally blossoming on his face. “You lost me with the sports analogy. I might have to give up my man card for admitting this, but I really couldn’t care less about that stuff.” His brow furrowed, and he continued hurriedly. “Not about being a ‘hat trick.’ That’s an intriguing concept. But sports. They’re not my thing.”
“Mine either. I only know the term because of my brother. He played basketball in high school. I was more the studious type.” I didn’t explain how there was no way I could have been anything but studious. My mother’s need for me to help take care of my brother precluded any interest I might have had in sports—or anything else that might have taken me away from the house.
Victor sat back in his seat and gave me a long, slow smile that made me wonder what else he could do with his mouth. “So, tell me, Grace. How do you figure out if someone is your hat trick?”
“Well,” I said, “it’s highly scientific. They have to meet all three criteria. In the past, I’d date a smart guy who was maybe great in bed but as emotionally available as a rock, so I’d know he wasn’t the one. Or one who could debate relevant social issues and express his undying affection for me but was a terrible lover.”
At this, Victor laughed out loud, and the other diners paused and glanced over at us. “Sorry,” he sputtered. “I guess I’m not used to a woman being so honest about how she picks her men apart.”
“Oh, wow,” I said, wanting to backtrack immediately. “I don’t have a checklist or anything like that.” I felt flustered, oddly vulnerable. I paused, wondering if my next question was a loaded one for a first date but wanting to ask it anyway. “What about your ex-wife? Was she your hat trick?”
He leaned forward and rested his forearms across the table, grasping the crooks of his elbows with long fingers. “Well, I’m new to the idea, but I’d have to say no. She definitely was not.” His tone indicated he wasn’t ready to elaborate, and part of me was glad for it. Men who spoke excessively about ex-girlfriends or wives on a first date never came across well. Nor, for that matter, did women who chattered on about their exes. I don’t think I was testing him, exactly—I was honestly curious to know more about their relationship. But if it was a test, he passed.