“Uh, yea… I don’t want your number. I won’t use it. I’m on a date. With my girlfriend.” I speak slowly and deliberately, so there’s no confusion.
“Your girlfriend? Oh my God. I thought she was your sister or something. She looks way older than you. I guess some guys are into cougars, but I just don’t get it.” Kelli frowns, and I sign the check and close the billfold. I’m getting a little tired of this age thing, to put it mildly. I vacillate between walking to the restrooms to wait for Lainie or spewing a little condemnation in Kelli’s direction. Before I can decide (and let’s be honest, I’m not going to cuss out a stranger), I catch a flash of Lainie as she makes a hasty exit from the restaurant. What the actual hell?
“Lainie,” I call, as I grab my wallet and head in her direction. “Lainie, wait up!” I finally reach her at the far end of the street. “Um, you’re getting really good at running out on me, and I gotta tell you, it’s not my favorite quality of yours.” I smile and reach for her arm, but she shrinks back.
“Simon, um… I should have just been honest the other day. I tried, but you were so charming. Anyway...the thing is...this isn’t going to work.”
What? We’re standing on the corner of Eisenhower and Courtland. Our bayside town is far from a bustling metropolis, but it’s a crowded Sunday afternoon in the fall. There’s some kind of festival going on, and the streets are uncharacteristically packed. Traffic buzzes by and crowds shuffle past. And I’m trying to make sense of what she just said. “Forgive me if I’m having relationship whiplash here, but what the hell?”
“Simon, you must know as well as I do that we’re...not well-suited.”
“I know nothing of the kind. In fact, I know the exact opposite. We’re amazing together.”
“Simon,” she’s pleading now, “I can’t do this, and I’m sorry. You are the best. You’re such a good guy, but…”
“If I’m such a catch, then why are you dumping me?”
“Because I can’t go on dates that end with a cute waitress asking you out and mistaking me for your much older sister.”
“That’s crap.” And yes, it was also a little forward on Kelli’s part, but I can’t own that. “I can’t control what someone else thinks or says any more than you can. And, really? That’s the first time in my life—all twenty-five years of it—that a woman has ever approached me and tried to give me her number. It’s like a unicorn riding across the sky on the tail of Halley’s Comet. You don’t have to worry about it happening again anytime soon, I promise.” She’s conflicted. I can see it in her eyes, and I wonder if Kelli’s approach isn’t the only thing that has her running scared.
I reach for her hand. “C’mon, we’ll go back to your place and binge-watch Netflix, for real. You pick the movies. Unless you’d prefer to actually Netflix and chill, in which case, that can be arranged.”
I swear she leans forward just to take another step back. Symbolism much?
“I can’t. God, I want to, Simon, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“So all this ‘the door’s open’ and ‘I wanted to have so much sex with you,’ that was what, a joke? A temporary lapse in judgment?” My confusion colors my words.
“God, no. No. Look, I want to be with you. I wish we could go back to my house and have spectacular sex after watching one of your Star Wars movies. You would make me laugh, and I would make you dinner and everything would be lovely in our little cocoon, but reality would invade quickly enough and this scene will replay itself again. I can’t see you again, Simon. We need to make a clean break this time.”
“You even have the movie picked out. Don’t do this, Lainie. Don’t—”
“I’ve never actually seen any of theStar Warsmovies in its entirety. See? We’d never work out,” she smiles softly, and it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Watch them with me. My favorite movies and my favorite person. Let’s just start there.”
“Simon.” My name hangs on her lips like a plea.
“Elaine.” My voice carries all the comfort it can. She’s struggling, and I know I only have half the story. Traffic buzzes around us, and I take her hand, needing that connection between us amongst all the chaos of blaring horns and bustling crowds.
Her phone sounds in her purse, and she rolls her eyes in annoyance and frustration. I wonder if that is what’s messing her up? “But...” she spares a glance at her buzzing phone.
“But what? There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“It’s the same old stuff. I’ve got nearly ten years on you.”
“So? That doesn’t matter to me. And it never will. I’ll dye a grey streak in my hair and change my age in Facebook to a date so far back that it calls my mother’s virtue into question.” She smirks at that and I feel like I can take a second to breathe. “Here’s the thing, Lainie: if this doesn’t work for you—if I’m not what you want—then, ok. I get it. I would never force you to pursue something just because I’m attracted to you. I’m not an asshole. But, if you’re feeling this, too? If you want this, too? It’s yours. I’m yours.”
WHEN I WAS Alittle girl and I pictured falling in love, it always took place on a beach. And maybe that’s because I love the beach, or maybe it’s because I had an unhealthy obsession withThe Little Mermaidand my beloved always bore a striking resemblance to Prince Eric from the Disney version.
Either way, I never dreamed I’d fall in love on a street corner, much less a crowded, noisy one.
But I am. Falling in love, that is. At first, I was lusting, I’ll admit it. And then I was smitten. But now? Now that he’s fighting my demons and silencing my fears, I see it. Simon is right. And Molly’s got a point, too. I need to stop listening to my mother’s words and start hearing and seeing what Simon has to offer.
“Okay.” It’s the same answer I gave him forty-eight hours ago when he asked me out on a date. Back then, it was impulsive, reactionary. But now, it’s a promise of things to come. It’s a vow of trust. It’s a leap of faith.
IT’S BEEN A GOOD WEEK.So, yeah, it’s only Monday, but still. We never watched the movie last night. We barely made it in the door before we tore at each other’s clothes, equally eager to consummate the fragile bond we’ve created.
