She said it as if she had some scientifically controlled study to back it up.
“So . . . you think that the kiss was just a fluke, and his interest in me was just about sex?” Rachel asked, reappearing with an empty wineglass. “Because that kiss was fabulous, maybe the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life, and if it was only about sex, I should be insulted, but I’m not. I’m okay with just sex. Just sex is great! Actually, just sex would be beyond fantastic. But I don’t see how a basically British guy, and therefore a basically sexless guy, could kiss like that.”
“Good point,” Dagne said thoughtfully. “Okay, so maybe he’s not sexless, just really repressed. They’re all repressed over there. I mean, look at the queen. Can you see the queen doing it?”
“Don’t!” Rachel protested. “That’s like imagining Grandma and Grandpa—no, no, I am not going there. And anyway, there are lots of Brits probably sitting around their flats sipping tea right now trying to imagine the president doing it, and therefore, using your example, they’ve probably come to the conclusion that Americans are sexless, too.”
“Ah. But Cosmo has the study to back up America,” Dagne politely corrected her.
“Oh, that’s right. Cosmo,” Rachel said as she poured a glass of wine. “Here’s a different theory for you to chew on,” she said, lifting her glass to toast Dagne. “Maybe he didn’t think the kiss was all that great, and maybe he didn’t call because he’s not that interested, which is really okay, because I have enough on my plate trying to figure out how to pay my bills around here without worrying if some temporary British guy is going to call me or not,” she said, and sat on a floor pillow across from Dagne.
“First, don’t worry about your bills,” Dagne said, waving a hand at her. “Things are going to work out for you. You’ll see,” she added with a confident nod.
“Oh right,” Rachel said with a roll of her eyes. “Great. Maybe I’ll pay all my bills and die a lonely old woman.”
“Oh God, here we go,” Dagne exclaimed to the ceiling.
“What would you think if it were you?” Rachel challenged her. “I mean, we have this absolutely amazing kiss, and he gets my number, says he is going to call, and doesn’t. What am I supposed to think?”
“Maybe he liked that kiss very much, so much that it scared him, and he’s not sure how to act on those feelings, so he pours himself into his work—what is his work, anyway?”
“Computers.”
“He pours himself into computers and tries not to think of you because he knows he is really drawn to you—witchcraft, hello!” she said, jabbing her hands to the ceiling. “Of course he’s drawn to you, but he’s afraid because if he starts anything, he won’t be able to finish it because he has to go back to England.”
“We had one night out,” Rachel said. “It wasn’t as if he had to declare the rest of his life or anything. What’s wrong with having a little fling while he’s in town? And what about my class? He signed up for my weaving class, dammit!”
“There you go!” Dagne said brightly. “You’ll definitely see him at class next week.”
“But that’s a whole weeeeek,” Rachel moaned, and laid her forehead on the coffee table. “If he’s going to call, he has to do it before next week. I can’t wait that long, I’ll be a basket case by then, and I’ll make a fool of myself at class, and we’re in the middle of looms.”
“Not to worry,” Dagne said, reaching across the table and patting Rachel on the head. “We’ll do a little spell.”
“Jesus, Dagne, is that your answer to everything?”
“It’s a lot better than moping,” she said, lifting her chin a little. “Anyway, I have to do something about Glenn,” she said. “It’s so stupid. Never play around with magic.”
“Excuse me, but what do you think you’re doing on a fairly routine basis here? So, anyway, what happened?”
Dagne sighed. “Okay, here it is. I wanted to do a spell on Ricky Bayless. Remember him?”
“The greatest sex of your life? That Ricky Bayless?”
“That Ricky Bayless,” Dagne said. “Man, the guy was good—he did things I didn’t even know you could do. So anyway, I was going to do a spell on him, but I wanted to make sure it was right, so I practiced it. And . . . and I sort of used Glenn instead of Ricky. And then the next thing you know, I run into Glenn down at the hair place—you know, where his sister works?—and he’s all smiles and goo-goo-eyed.”
“That’s because he’s always had a crush on you,” Rachel reminded her. “That’s why you quit going to his sister’s place.”
“But she’s so much cheaper than anyone else. So anyway, apparently the spell worked, because he was so gaga. ‘How have you been, Dagne?’” she mimicked him, making huge moon eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you, Dagne.’” She laughed. “And now he keeps calling since I invited him over—”