Leticia’s head was swimming with equations. It was Thursday and she felt exhausted from an already long work week, and looked forward to an evening hanging with her black Bombay cat, Thelma. Her plan was to have a glass of Cab with a salad, flavored by some sweet tomatoes and lemons from her back garden. Then, maybe she’d watch a Queen’s Gambit episode. She was trying to binge-watch the series and was almost halfway through.
Her teaching job at the university took up her weekdays from 8 to 5. She’d end up grading student quizzes and tests on most evenings, falling asleep with papers spread across her chest, and Thelma’s warm body sitting atop them. Leticia routinely woke with a start around 2 a.m., shoved off the paperwork from her bed and turned off the bedside lamp.
Tonight, there would be no grading. She could finish that on the weekend. She hung her car keys on the metal hook just inside the front door. Passing the mounted whiteboard on the wall in her hallway, she noticed the reminder she had scrawled in block letters a few days ago with a dry erase marker: ZOOM CALL – TYLER SANDESKY 7 p.m. Thursday
“Crap,” she said aloud and noticed that Thelma, her cat was perched on the top rung of the cat tower by the picture window in the living room.
Leticia didn’t feel like making small talk, something she avoided whenever possible but she had signed up on Love Quest, a dating site, where she had been auto-matched to Tyler who, per his profile, had indicated that his job was as SQUARE ROOT TRAINER. He was thirty years old, one year older than Leticia and lived just fifteen minutes north of her in a town called Burlingame. He was college-educated, had never been married and was the proud dad of a rescue cat named Ted.
This would be the second guy she had been scheduled to meet through the Love Quest site. The first guy didn’t make their planned Zoom call, texting her ten minutes prior that he had a bad head cold and would get back to her as soon as he recovered. That was two weeks ago. Since then, she hadn’t responded to the three other invitations she received until she saw Tyler Sandesky’s message a few days ago. Because he worked in the field of Mathematics, and had a pet cat, she decided to take the leap and reply. He just might be someone she’d want to date. Thinking about the call, she felt her nerves surging.
She placed her computer bag down on the leather love seat in the living room. Thelma meowed a greeting and leapt from the cat tower onto the love seat. Leticia responded with affection, rubbing her nose on the top of her furry black head.
The antique wood clock on the fireplace mantel her mom had gifted her read 6:28. The trial meet n’ greet with Tyler was scheduled for seven, leaving her barely enough time for a quick microwave Poki rice bowl, and a chance to freshen up the little make-up she had applied that morning. She’d make do with the outfit she’d worn to work, a cream-colored sleeveless blouse under a black pearl-buttoned long sleeve sweater over black leggings. It was her top half that needed to look acceptable.
Leticia rushed around, feeling more anxious by the minute to have to present herself as fresh as a daisy and somehow also be fascinating. She filled Thelma’s food bowl and freshened her water. Then, she shoved her own dinner into the microwave, and scoffed it down standing at the kitchen counter. In the bathroom, she applied a coat of rose-pink lipstick and a brush of blush to her cheeks. Her long dark hair looked presentable, held back with a barrette, her bangs perfectly straight, the way she liked them.
At the dining room table, she switched on the laptop and logged into the website at precisely the prescribed time. She waited for a few minutes but no sign of Tyler. She could hear the mantel clock tick. It was 7:04. Her neck muscles tightened. Would this be a repeat of the last Love Quest call which never happened?
Two minutes later the rectangle on the screen filled with a clean-shaven, healthy-looking, sandy blond-haired man. Appearing relaxed, he sat on a brown sofa wearing a dark-green golf shirt. The view she could see was from his waist up. A framed poster hung on a wall behind him. She couldn’t quite make out the entire image but it looked like a photograph of the high Sierras. Two skiers and a snow boarder coasted down a steep slope. Although, Tyler’s body wasn’t positioned up close to the camera. So far, she liked what she saw.
“Nice to meet you, Leticia,” he said, “Almost in person.” He grinned and moved closer to the camera. She noticed a spray of light brown freckles on his long straight nose. His skin was slightly tanned and a flop of his sandy blonde hair partially covered one eye. His voice was gravelly, and his demeanor friendly.
She could make out a slight space between his two front teeth when he smiled. She wondered if he was tall since information about his height didn’t appear on the dating site profile. Had he purposely omitted that? She should have let her hair down, curled it and changed her outfit to something more casual. More attractive on camera. “Nice to meet you too,” she said, feeling an instant attraction yet slightly annoyed that he had logged on six minutes late.
“So, where do we go from here?” he said light-heartedly. “I’m not a professional at this. Only been doing this for about a week.
She liked the hint of vulnerability in his words. There was a shyness about him.
“I was looking forward to this call, all day,” he said.
She liked where this was going despite his late arrival.
“You’re very pretty,” he added, “Even more so live on the screen.” He hesitated, “I mean, I liked your photo on the site, too. I’m sorry. I’m flubbing my words.” He put his hand to his temple appearing embarrassed.
“I got what you meant,” she said.
“Anyway,” he said, “Based on your profile, well-written I might add, sounds like you’ve accomplished a lot at quite a young age.”
“Yes, I guess I’ve been doing quite well at the university. At least so far. On the road to being tenured. That’s what I hope, anyway.” She felt her face heat up, her cheeks go red, something that happened when she talked about herself. And she could see it happening right before her eyes. She looked away at her cat who was purring poised on the dining room chair next to her.
So, what attracted you to my profile?” he asked.
It felt good to Leticia that he was asking questions. He wanted to get to know her. “Number one, your photograph was nice,” she said; “And Number 2, you must know it’s tough to find someone with a passion for Mathematics like me, and who works in the same field as I do.”
“Right,” he said, slowly nodding his head.
“So, do you do one on one math tutoring? Leticia asked; “Or are you an academic? I love that you call yourself The Square Root Trainer.”
He shrugged, raising his shoulders, “Square Root Trainer, yeah, it’s the name of my small business. I’m an entrepreneur.”
“Oh, then you do mathematical consultations?”
He laughed. “No, no,” he said; “I’m a personal trainer.”
Leticia narrowed her eyes. Thelma jumped up on the table next to her laptop. “Personal trainer.” Leticia echoed back. Her mind swirled in confusion. Why wasn’t that mentioned in his profile? Inside her head she chided herself for not leveraging her gift of logic to figure this out before this meeting.
“Exactly,” he said, “I’m a health and fitness coach. I also lead Spin classes and counsel clients on diet and nutrition. I have all the certifications.”
Leticia was astonished and tried to gather her words without exploding. His eyebrows raised, and head tilted to the side, he seemed eager for her reaction. “You’re not at all connected to the field of Mathematics,” she said. “What do you mean by calling yourself The Square Root Trainer? You’re kind of a fraud.” Her words had fallen out sharply, more of an accusation than she intended. Exhausted from a long day at work, she didn’t want to waste more time with this fitness instructor.
“Well, it’s not like I don’t use Math in my work,” he said, his voice raised. “I utilize mathematical tools every day. Hence, the name of my business. The Square Root Trainer!”
Leticia’s hand went to her forehead. She felt a headache brewing, “Forgive me Tyler, but I’m afraid that we are not a potential match. Let’s end this! Why go any further?” She had rushed through her dinner for nothing. Had been a bundle of nerves for no reason.
“You’re going to cut this call short because I don’t work in the freaking world of Math?” He quieted and glared at her, then placed his laptop back on the coffee table. He sat back on the sofa, shaking his head. “You’re a math snob. A geek,” he said, confronting her; “Screw this on-line dating thing.”
She had overstepped, but she couldn’t help it. To her, his confession was a complete shock. Thelma pranced across her keyboard causing a few shrill tones. “Please,” she said, her voice lowered, “Don’t take this the wrong way.”
He crossed his long legs. I guess he is a tall guy, she thought to herself. “Why so uppity about your job in the math field anyway?” he said, pressing her, “Why?”
“I’m not uppity.” Leticia responded, “I do complex, sophisticated research in the area of Probability Theory. I teach Probalistic Graphical Modeling to grad students.”
“Probal…lable whatever! Sounds like a lot of mumbo jumbo.”
“No need to be rude,” she barked back.
“Sounds kind of boring to me,” he said; “You won’t meet the right partner with that kind of talk.”
“I’ll tell you what sounds boring.” She pulled the barrette from her hair and threw it down on the table. Startled, Thelma jumped from the table back to the dining room chair; “Boring is a hyped-up jock telling me how to do sit-ups or ride a stationary bike!”
“I use math all day long,” he insisted.
“And do you even have a cat?” she said; “Ted, wasn’t that his name on your profile? I don’t see any cat right now. Where is he, anyway?”
“I use math,” Tyler repeated, ignoring her question. “Fractions and ratios all the time when I’m talking to clients about portion control. I convert percentages to decimals, determine a client’s heart rate and counsel them on their prescribed personal weight target. Math, I love it,” he proclaimed.
Half amused, she said, “I wouldn’t quite call those tasks complex Math.”
“Damn it,” he said, “I’m a professional. I even use equations to calculate caloric intake. I help my clients understand how units of carbs, protein and fat translate into calories.”
For a moment, Leticia closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, her head resting on the high backed chair.
“Still not convinced?” he said, and folded his arms across his chest.
Leticia wished she hadn’t signed on to the call. Thelma was back up on the table, meowing, and reached a paw out to tap Leticia’s cheek, requesting her attention.
“Did your cat just slap you for being so mean?” Tyler teased.
“What?”
“Your cat, what’s her name?”
“Thelma. And she didn’t slap me.”
He smirked, “She’s letting you know that you’re making a big mistake.”
Tyler picked up a grey-and-white fluffy feline. “This is Ted,” he said, and nuzzled the cat; “But he’s a girl. I just named her Ted.” He stroked the cat.
“A girl named Ted?”
He nodded, “Yes, that’s what I said. A girl name Ted.”
Leticia grinned. Thelma stared at the cat on the screen, her meow loud, then started to lick the screen. “Looks like an attraction between these two,” Tyler said; “Guess you’re right. We should end this call.”
“Agreed,” she said, but softened inside; “Okay, it was nice…I mean fine to meet you even if only for a few minutes.
“Wait,” he said, “This might sound sudden but would you meet up at the Brit Pub in how about 30 minutes? Hmm?” He moved his laptop closer and gave her a shy boyish frown, Ted’s little face and green eyes staring at her, too. For the first time on the call, she registered the pale green of Taylor’s eyes, a similar shade to Ted’s.
Leticia quieted, bit her lip and stroked Thelma, holding her close. She looked up at Tyler. “I’d say that there’s a 49-51% probability that I’ll be there,” she replied; “If you’re on time. If not, there’s a 0% chance.”
“I’ll take those odds,” he smiled, waved Ted’s paw at the screen; “I’ll be there in 20, he said and disconnected.
Linda S. Gunther has written six romantic suspense novels: Ten Steps from the Hotel Inglaterra, Endangered Witness, Lost in the Wake, Finding Sandy Stonemeyer, Dream Beach. and most recently published, Death is a Great Disguiser. Ms. Gunther’s short stories, poetry, book reviews and essays have been published in a variety of literary journals.
