Page 47 of King of Hollywood

My cheeks flushed, and my heart thundered—an odd feeling—but not…unpleasant.

“If you’re trying to insult me you’ve failed. All I see up there is a man who knows how to protect his property.” My chest puffed up, pride bursting inside it. “He’s a good man,” I added, in case Felix hadn’t seen the full movie and needed the cliff notes. Felix cocked his head at me. I answered his unspoken question eagerly, “loyal, even after death.”

I didn’t really understand the look Felix was giving me, but I liked it. In an odd way it felt like…crepes. Complicated. Buttery soft, delicate but hardy enough to hold fruit. Sweet, doughy. Powdered and covered in sugar.

“You’re old-fashioned,” Felix said.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Not at all.” Felix’s small, secret smile as he turned back to the movie, felt like a prize I’d won. Bigger even, than the stuffed creatures that hung above the game booths we’d walked past. When he gave my elbow another squeeze, and my heart soared. “Quite the opposite.”

So he liked old-fashioned.

That was nice, right?

Yes.

Yes, it was.

I licked my lips, cheeks still burning as I imagined what that might be like. A traditional life with my non-traditional hermit husband. Our children could be his cats. I would resent them, quietly, but buy them Pedigree cat food. On the weekends I’d mow our lawn and prune our garden. At night we’d dance beneath the stars beside the grill that sat on our back deck.

I’d feed him, anything to make him happy.

He’d crochet gifts for my sisters for Christmas, and they’d laugh and giggle when they saw what delightful things he’d come up with. We’d share stories beneath his telescope—look up at the stars, and wonder what was beyond them.

I’d go to work. My coworkers would ask me what I’d done for the weekend—and I’d tell them “nothing” but secretly I’d know that “nothing” with Felix was better than “everything” with anyone else.

Perhaps a little less traditional, I thought about my…hobby. About what that might be like to share with him. I could tell him about Alberta, maybe. Could take him to my hunting grounds. We could write the world’s wrongs together. Perhaps he had compulsions of his own—compulsions I was still curious about, but was patient enough not to ask about.

We could go together, stalk our prey together.

The night would be our cloak.

We’d revel in it. The hunt. The victory. The relief, when that itch was finally scratched once again. I’d watch the blood splatter his lovely alabaster skin, and I’d want him. I’d want him so badly I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

Felix and I watched the rest of the cartoon movie. We sat on the grass on a blanket I bought. The vendor had been stationed at the back of the group of people that populated the grass. I bought us popcorn—popcorn that Felix pretended to eat, though I didn’t understand why he felt the need to lie. Did he think I wouldn’t notice the fact he was throwing the pieces behind him instead of eating them?

I gave him the flowers, and he flushed—a shy, nervous little thank you, the sweetest reward I could’ve ever received. You’d think he’d never received flowers from a date before, but I knew that wasn’t true. Still though, his reaction made me happy.

The movie was enjoyable, the popcorn too.

As we finished the film, Felix stroked the petals of the flowers I gave him.

When I bought him a new hat—one less horrifying, and less wet than the last one—he smiled at me again.

For the first time in my life I knew why people spent all their time fantasizing about relationships, about love, about partners and families. I understood why they’d struggle through dating, through the awful Google searches, and the existential crises. Why they’d learn the social cues, the order of the bases—not goals. Because if this was at the end of that—I could suffer through more dates like this.

And we all know I wasn’t suffering.

Chapter ten

The rest of the date was…dare I say, fun? At one point, I even ate a funnel cake. Which was something that I’d never had before—as I avoided fairs and amusement parks at all costs. I didn’t even allow myself to feel guilty, as for the most part, I ate healthy enough that I could afford to have sweet treats when I decided I’d earned them.

I certainly felt like I had today. Even though Felix was the one that had truly sacrificed, I was still here—in a place I abhorred. Doing something I never thought in a million years I’d enjoy.

Dating.

It was quite good.