In all honesty, I’m a pretty low-maintenance guy—mostly because I’m too hung up on the business and work to care about things like perfect eyebrows or anything of the sort. Still, the night before our first official date, I feel like a train wreck when I look in the mirror. My hair has been overdue for a cut for weeks on end, and I could use a decent shave. Plus, there’s the issue of what to wear.
I haven’t been on an official date of my choosing for a while now, most of my romantic rendezvous occurring spur of the moment at the Marooned Pirate or being a blind date I have low expectations for and, thus, don’t stress over.
But this one feels different.
It’s been a few nights since our stroll on the boardwalk, since I learned that something between Reed and me wasn’t imagined. It’s been a few nights since we ambled under the starry June night, talking about Grey’s Anatomy and cooking and favorite drinks.
It’s been a few nights since I looked into those dark eyes that captivate me for some reason, yet in many ways, I’ve been reliving those moments over and over since I said goodbye on Saturday.
Now, though, the pressure’s mounting. I don’t know why, but I feel like this is going to be a disaster. Maybe it’s because I’ve been through so many failed relationships, or maybe it’s because deep down, I desperately want this to work. I want a man I can share my life with, can share my dreams and my day-to-day experiences with.
And, for an inexplicable reason, I feel like Reed Wilder could be that man.
I don’t want to screw things up tomorrow. I don’t want this to end before it begins because I know if that happens, I’ll be more than crushed. My bruised heart will retreat for sure, and my hopes for a lifetime love will be dashed.
In short, I want this to go well.
I shake my head, feeling like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. I find Alexander’s name in my contacts, my friend from high school who still lives in town. We’ve both got our own businesses we run now, so we don’t get together all that much. Still, we go out every now and then. We’re close enough that I don’t feel bad calling in a favor.
“Can you be here in an hour?” he asks after I explain my predicament.
I glance at the clock on the wall. I guess work can wait for some things.
“Yeah,” I agree. “See you then.” I click off the phone, grab myself a cup of coffee, and sink into my sofa, trying to tell myself it’s going to be just fine.
“It’s perfect! Hot stuff,” Jodie exclaims when I get to work later that night with my new haircut. Alexander wanted to go all in with highlights and some kind of new style. I told him to keep it simple, so he gave me the usual haircut. Still, after weeks of neglect, the trim has done wonders.
“Thanks. I figured I should put some effort in, you know?”
“Absolutely. But next question. What are you wearing?” she asks.
I shrug. “Probably jeans and that plain blue T-shirt I bought when we were shopping last.”
Jodie’s mouth opens in horror. “You think that’s the best you can do? You’re going on your first date with the man who could be your Mr. Right, and you’re wearing a T-shirt and jeans? No. Just no.”
I shrug again. “I mean, it’s me, right?”
“Come with me,” she says, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the kitchen.
“What for?”
“An intervention.”
I follow Jodie into the kitchen. Georgette is singing a Michael Jackson song while she makes some burgers. Juliet and Joseph are gossiping in the corner, apparently on break.
“Okay, Midsummer Nights. Listen up. Boss man here has a smoking date tomorrow. Can you all please tell him that jeans and a T-shirt are not going to cut it, not for Reed Wilder?”
“Oh, shit, Reed Wilder? The new guy from Philly? Yeah, dude, he has mad style. Like, he chatted with me for a half hour yesterday about what shoes to pair with my jeans for the date I have tonight. He’s got killer fashion sense,” Joseph says, rubbing the gauge in his ear as he talks, an annoying habit of his.
“Wow, Reed Wilder! That’s so exciting, Lysander. He seems like an amazing guy. But Jodie’s right. Up your game. He knows a thing or two about fashion. Did you see that outfit yesterday? That plaid jacket was stunning with the gray.”
I shake my head. Does everyone here already know Reed Wilder? And if he’s so fashionable, what the hell is he going to do with me?
“While I appreciate your advice, listen, I’m not into fashion. So whether this works or not, I’d rather just be myself. Because he’s going to find out pretty quickly that I’m basically clueless in the fashion arena.”
Georgette stops singing and says something. Georgette, however, has a habit of mumbling a lot. The only time we can really understand her is when she’s singing.
“What did she say?” I whisper to Jodie.
“I don’t know, but I bet it was along the lines of: don’t be a moron. You only get one first date, so do a good job. Now come on, Lysander. Humor me. Dig out your best suit and tie. Let’s do this thing right.”
I sigh. “The only suit and tie I have are from a family function I’d rather not relive.”
Jodie sobers at the mention. She knows what I’m talking about. “Then go out and get a new one. Or borrow one. I don’t care how you do it, but get yourself a suit, make a good impression. Just this once.”
“Dude, my dad has a suit you could borrow. He’s a bit chubbier than me, so I think it would fit you.” The lanky Joseph smiles, as if he’s just done me a huge favor.
“I’m going to pretend the chubbier thing was harmless and graciously decline. I guess, against my better judgement, I’ll listen. I’ll go shopping first thing in the morning.”
“Want me to come with?” Jodie asks.
“No, I’m great. Thanks. Now aren’t there some tables to wait out there?” I announce.
Juliet and Joseph continue their gossiping as Jodie skips out to the restaurant. I stay behind in the kitchen for a moment, exhaling loudly. Georgette looks at me and then starts singing a sappy 1980s love song. I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger before heading back through the swinging doors to the bar—to work and to serve myself a very stiff drink.
If I’m going to survive tomorrow, I might need it. Because good or bad, this date is all anyone around here is going to be talking about.