I saw her standing in front of Angelina’s, the cozy Italian restaurant, as I drove by. My heart raced. You haven’t been on a date in forty years, and that was with a boy, but you got this, Tarah.
I parked what seemed like a mile away and as I walked towards the restaurant, I texted her:
About to come around the corner. I’m the lesbian with the blue shirt shaking in her sandals.
I might have waved to her. As I walked towards her, she began narrowing the gap, walking towards me.
“Nervous?” Marcie asked.
“Wicked.” The word stuck in my dry throat.
She gave me a warm hug, and I caught the faint sweet smell of her hair.
“Want to walk around a little?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I was sure I was moving and talking like a chipmunk hyped up on Mountain Dew. As we stepped onto Main Street, I glanced at her. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For coming.”
In a flash, we had gone around the block and were still early for our reservation.
“I know we’re early, but we should go check in.”
I held the door for her. The hostess told us our table would be ready momentarily, and we talked awkwardly near the tiny bar.
I didn’t allow myself to really soak her in until I took the first sip of my lemon drop martini at the small, intimate table. Soft illumination from the wall-mounted light just above shone on her face accentuating her angular cheekbones and jawlines, and her smile was vibrant. Her sleeveless black top left her sun-kissed shoulder exposed.
Enjoying delicious food, we talked mostly about my story, coming out very late in life after being married to a man for thirty-five years. Divorced and starting to date. I found myself talking way too much about my ex-husband despite trying to balance the conversation. I felt neither of us wanted the evening to end, but each of us had a drive to make. When we walked out, I asked to walk to her car. We walked across the street and another few feet when she stopped.
She pointed to her Volvo. “This is me.”
Did you really walk her just across the street to her car?
I wanted a first kiss but received a second hug and inhaled her sweet scent again.
“I’m sure we’ll talk soon.”
“Great.” I really hope so.
While driving, we texted and let each other know when we had reached our destinations. Once there, we texted what we liked about each other. She found my nervousness cute and thought I had beautiful eyes. I texted that she was warm, fun and had a beautiful smile and “as for your sun-kissed skin, well, enough said (for now).”
The next day, I texted:
I have a couple questions:
1. Can I share my poetry with you?
2. Is it too early to plan our second date?
Marcie’s reply:
- Yes
- No