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It was January third, a Sunday, and Julie was going on another first date.
Okay, so it wasn’t really a first date.
She’d already gone on a date with Tom Yeung and later pretended to be his girlfriend. Since they’d decided to make their relationship real a week ago, she’d seen him a bunch of times, but with their work schedules, they hadn’t gotten to go out and redo their disastrous first date until now. Instead, they’d spent lots of time in bed together.
Julie got off the subway and hurried to K-Polish, a Korean-Polish fusion restaurant on Baldwin Street. She was running a little behind because she’d spent too much time debating what to wear, but she’d eventually settled on a blouse with a plunging neckline and the necklace she’d recently made. It was a branch held by a silver chain, which didn’t sound exciting, but you had to see it. Julie had been inspired by all the bare branches with snow at this time of year.
It was snowing again now. Just barely—a few snowflakes fluttering here and there.
Her heart was beating fast, as though she was nervous, but there was no reason to be nervous. Tom was her boyfriend. Tonight would be fun.
When she arrived at the small restaurant, only seven minutes late, she quickly found Tom. It was no surprise he was already here. He was seated at a table and carefully sipping his red wine as he studied the menu, but he looked up as soon as the door shut behind her.
She walked over to him, a smile on her face.
“Hi, you must be Tom. I’m Julie.” She extended her hand.
He shook it. “Nice to meet you.”
“You’re showing a lot of skin today.”
“Indeed, I am.”
He’d apparently decided a tie wasn’t necessary at a Korean-Polish fusion restaurant. He was wearing a sweater and a collared shirt, but the top button was actually undone.
She took off her coat and sat across from him.
“You look lovely,” he said. “Is that the necklace you were telling me about?”
When she nodded, he reached across the table and took it in his hand, brushing her skin as he did so.
Slightly flustered, she opened the drinks menu. When the waiter came over, she ordered a soju bomb. The beer was some kind of Polish beer she’d never heard of.
“They just dump the soju in beer?” Tom asked as the waiter walked away.
“Yup,” Julie said cheerfully. “I know you’re curious. I’ll let you try a sip, don’t worry.”
Tom was likely appalled by the idea of this drink, although he didn’t say so.
“Do you know what you’re ordering?” She gestured at the food menu.
“I’m planning to have the potato pancakes with kimchi jjigae.”
Julie studied her menu, though she kept getting distracted by Tom sitting across from her. Eventually, she managed to order, and their banchan soon arrived with her soju bomb.
Chopsticks were placed on top of the beer, and the shot of soju was placed on top of the chopsticks. Julie smacked the table with her hands a few times, and the shot fell into the beer glass, splashing a little liquid over the side.
Tom’s look of skepticism was priceless.
“Cheers,” she said, bumping her glass against his wineglass. Then she helped herself to the kimchi while he tried the sauerkraut.
He also bravely tried her soju bomb and declared it wasn’t as good as the wine.
“I have something for you,” she said.
Although it was January third, the present she handed him was wrapped in mistletoe wrapping paper, since it was the Christmas present she owed him.
“Remember when we got stuck under the mistletoe?” he asked.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget any detail of that weekend,” she said, and he caressed her leg under the table. “Are you going to open it?”
“Well, since Christmas was more than a week ago, I assume this is a very early Christmas present for next year, so it would only be right for me to wait fifty-one weeks—”
“Tom!”
He smiled at her and started ripping open the wrapping paper.
And by “ripping open,” she meant carefully peeling off the tape, then folding the paper afterward. Perhaps he was doing it slowly just to make her squirm. Or laugh.
He was surprisingly good at making her laugh.
And he was especially good at making her squirm when they were in bed together.
At last, the wrapping paper had been removed, and he opened up the box to reveal a scarf in brilliant blue and green.
“Is this the yarn I gave you?” he asked.
She nodded. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful, but I feel guilty that you used your present to make me something.”
“No need to feel guilty. I enjoy making things for people I care about. God knows I’ve knitted myself enough things over the years. But I’m going to make another scarf just like it so we’ll match.”
“At least you didn’t want us to wear matching ugly Christmas sweaters.”
She put a finger to her mouth and considered this. “An excellent idea for next year. Or I could get you a T-shirt that says ‘dreamer’ in big pink letters. Just like mine. I think you’d look quite dashing in such a shirt.”
“The word ‘dreamer’ clashes with my personality.”
“You dared to dream of being with me after our disastrous first date.” She pointed at the box. “There’s something else inside.”
He pulled out a small package of papers tied together with yarn.
“I thought I’d make you a keychain,” she said, “since you don’t wear jewelry. I sketched out a few designs and you can pick one. I think there are six? You, uh, provided me with lots of inspiration.”
“I’m not sure anyone has found me inspiring before.”
“Fortunately, I’m special.”
She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
They were two puzzle pieces that hadn’t fit together at first, but if you rotated them...
Ugh. Did that metaphor make any sense? Sometimes her brain didn’t function properly when she was touching him, but that was okay.
“On our last date,” she said, “I wanted to try the tres leches cake, but I refused dessert so I wouldn’t need to spend more time in your company.”
He chuckled softly.
“But tonight, I’m definitely having dessert. There’s a Japanese dessert place nearby, and they have matcha yuzu cake.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said. “I’ll happily follow you anywhere tonight, Julie. I’ll even allow another failed attempt at a snow angel.”
“The only reason the snow angels didn’t work was because you kept kissing me.”
“And what a great decision that was.”
Julie smiled at him and sipped her soju bomb.
She’d made some good decisions, that was for sure.
* * *
“See, I told you,” Bridget said to Julie when she returned home at ten the next morning. “You guys are perfect together.”
“You haven’t been able to shut up about it for the past week,” Julie muttered. “You keep going on and on about how you’re such a great matchmaker. But how many bad dates did you set up for me?”
“Maybe if you’d given some of those men a second chance, it would have worked out.”
“Mmm, no. I think Tom is an exception. I’m sure if I’d asked Unicycle Taylor to come to Ashton Corners and pretend to be my boyfriend, it wouldn’t have gone well.”
“Whatever,” Bridget said. “A matchmaker can’t succeed a hundred percent of the time.”
“You don’t succeed even close to ten percent of the time.”
Bridget waved this off. “I’m just glad you finally realized my feeling about you and Tom was right.”
“Me, too,” Julie admitted. “It’s only been a week, but I really am happy with him.”
“Even if he hates mayo?”
“Even if he hates mayo.”
She’d never had a clear roadmap of where she was going in life, but this was still pretty far from where she’d expected to end up.
Not that she was complaining.
Having a matchmaker roommate and a paisley tie-wearing boyfriend could be pretty damn amazing.