Lincoln Foster thought he might throw up. He clutched the flowers in his sweaty hand and had to remind himself not to crush the stems. This was his first date in six long years. He couldn't screw it up.
He got out of his car and touched the bit of plastic in his ear, making sure it was secure. One of the voices instructed him, "As soon as she opens the door, tell her she looks beautiful."
A second voice chimed in, "More beautiful than the last time you saw her."
He pursed his lips and blew three bursts of breath out into the chilly autumn evening air.
"You've got this," a third voice encouraged.
He nodded, even though the voices couldn't see him. He stood straighter, made sure the flowers weren't crushed, and forced himself to stride up the sidewalk and climb the three steps to the front porch, and then cross to the front door. He swallowed hard, then lifted his fist and knocked. The cellophane crinkled obnoxiously loud in the quiet of the evening.
A moment later, the door opened.
Lincoln's eyes fixed on a pair of feet clad in fuzzy red socks. "You… you look even… more beautiful than… than when I saw you last." It came out in a stilted mess, but at least the words were understandable.
"You've never seen me before, idiot."
Lincoln's throat constricted as his gaze snapped up to her face. This must be Lisa. His date's sister. He squawked, "OhnoIamsosorry," as a single word.
"Maybe you should just go." She crossed her arms over a well-worn sweatshirt emblazoned with the Penn State logo.
Sue, his actual date, came up behind her. "It's fine." Her weary tone dashed any hope that she hadn't heard his mistake. "Come in."
He thrust the bouquet in her direction as he stepped through the door. The carnation's stems were no match for his white-knuckled fist. "Theseareforyou." A Yorkie eyed him suspiciously from the sofa.
Lisa snorted. "Not for me?" She rolled her eyes and snatched the flowers from him before Sue could make a move. "I'll put these in water. You kids have fun." She shot him one more filthy look before turning on her heel.
"Thanks for the flowers." Sue didn't look at him as she pulled her coat on.
"Dude. Tell her she looks nice." One of the voices said.
She did look nice in her sky blue dress and carefully done hair and makeup, but he ignored the suggestion. Opening his mouth would produce nothing good at this point.
"We should get going." Sue clearly wanted to get this over with.
Lincoln stepped back, catching his heel on the door. He yelped, sending the resident Yorkie into a hysterical barking frenzy. It charged at him, four pounds of raging fury. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a treat, which he tossed to the dog before it got close enough to sink its teeth into his ankles.
"You just randomly carry dog treats in your pockets? That's… interesting."
"Uh, I, um, it's, yeah. My job… uh…"
His earpiece said, "Linc, just go. Out the door."
This time, he listened. He held the screen door open until Sue came through and pulled the main door shut behind her. He let go of the screen door and it crashed against its frame with an awful racket.
Sue walked ahead of him to his car, a little hybrid. "Cute car."
He hurried to open her door for her. "Thanks. This was better than one of those ridiculous, giant, environment-destroying trucks." He closed her door and went around to the driver's side. At least he'd managed to get one sentence out normally.
He pulled his seatbelt on and heard a rumble. The garage door directly in front of his car rolled up.
Sue pointed to a massive truck. "You mean like that?" A four-door Ford Super Duty F350. Diesel. Black with lots of chrome.
He audibly gulped.
She pressed a button on her keyring and the garage door lowered. "Let me hide my environment-destroying shame."
"I…" He went hot and cold.
Her voice was about as cold as the shiver sliding down his spine. "Kidding. I love that truck. It was either that or a Prius, but I had to go with the slightly better towing capacity. Made more sense for my landscaping business."
"Oh, crap," one of the voices muttered in his ear.
She huffed an annoyed sigh. "Shall we? I'm hungry."
"Of course." His voice quietly croaked out. He pulled onto the road and headed for the restaurant. They'd agreed on Carmine's Italian Restaurant, which was an unfortunate thirty-minute drive away.
They'd gone at least ten minutes in uncomfortable silence when Sue spoke up. "Does this thing top out at thirty-five or something?"
"Huh?"
"Speed limit is fifty-five."
He glanced down at the speedometer. "I'm going fifty."
"Not feeling the other five?"
"I, uh, don't tend to speed?"
"Going the speed limit is speeding now? Did they change that recently?" She turned back toward the window and sighed something that sounded like, "The ravioli better be worth it."
A few more torturous moments passed and Lincoln couldn't think of a single thing to say. The voices in his ear were quiet. Not that they'd been particularly helpful anyway.
He tried, "So, um, you do landscaping. Do you like doing that?"
She seemed to relax a little. Very little. "I love it. I think the design aspect is what I enjoy most."
One of the voices in his ear said, "Design? Isn't landscaping just planting flowers and mowing grass?"
Lincoln parroted the words exactly.
The more reasonable of the three voices groaned, "You did not say that."
"No, Lincoln, landscaping isn't just planting flowers and mowing grass. Unbelievable." She crossed her arms and turned her head to the window.
It took a thousand years, but they arrived at Carmine's. Sue was out of the car and on the sidewalk before he had a chance to open her door.
The host raised a snooty eyebrow when Lincoln had difficulty choking out his name for the reservation. He gave another snide look before he led them to their table. Sue said, "I'm going to the restroom. If the waiter comes, I'd like ice water."
"Okay." He sat in his chair and half-expected her to make a beeline for the front door.
"Now's your chance to redeem yourself," the earpiece told him.
"Yeah. Order for her. It shows you're thoughtful and in control of the situation. It'll make up for putting your foot in your mouth."
"That's not a great idea," the third voice said.
The first two shushed him. "It's perfect. Get back on track. Order a nice appetizer and meal."
Lincoln's hands shook a little as he held the thick leather menu. The words swam across the cream-colored parchment.
The waiter approached the table with a tight smile. "Would you like to wait to order?"
"You can do this," the voice encouraged him.
"No, thanks. We'll have a bottle of this wine." He pointed to a name on the menu that meant nothing to him. "We'll have the stuffed mushrooms for the appetizer, and for the entrée, we'll both have the mushroom lobster fettucine in alfredo. Thank you."
"Good job!"
The waiter nodded. "Excellent choice, sir."
A few minutes later, Sue came back from the restroom. The waiter brought the bottle of wine and turned to leave.
"Excuse me, could I get a menu, please?" she said. "And some water?"
Lincoln's heart thumped in his throat. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten the water.
The waiter looked confused. "Your order was already placed?"
"What?"
Lincoln said, "I took the liberty—"
"Liberty indeed." She looked at the waiter. "I'll have the shrimp ravioli. With the special red sauce, please."
"The first order is already in." He spoke with an undisguised tinge of annoyance.
Sue matched his energy and carefully enunciated each word. "I didn't place an order. Shrimp ravioli. Red sauce. Please."
"Certainly. I'll be right back with your water."
He disappeared and a moment later, a different server appeared with a glass of water and a small tray holding the appetizer. He placed the dish in the center of the table.
Sue's glass paused halfway to her lips. Her nose scrunched. "What is that?"
"I'm sorry," Lincoln said. "I was trying to… I don't even know." He stared dismally at the mushrooms.
Neither of them had touched the appetizer when their alfredo dishes arrived.
"I appreciate the attempt at chivalry. Wait." She flicked her cloth napkin across her lap. "You know what? I actually don't. Ordering for someone you've just met is presumptuous and rude. I was looking forward to the shrimp ravioli, and I don't like mushrooms."
He sent a panicked glance at her plate. Big chunks of mushroom sat atop the creamy noodles.
The waiter came by. "How is everything?" He didn't sound hopeful.
Lincoln gestured to Sue's plate. "Could we get this boxed up and get the shrimp ravioli, please?"
He blinked like this was the first he'd heard anything about shrimp ravioli. "Right. We're out of red sauce. Would you care for the white sauce instead?"
"No, thank you," Sue managed.
"Would you like to order something else?"
"Do you have lasagna?"
"Certainly. Tonight's lasagna is spinach and mushroom. It's delicious."
Her left eye twitched. "No regular, plain old lasagna?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Just a box then, please."
As soon as the waiter walked away, Lincoln shook his head. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine."
He knew it wasn't fine. "I'm sorry, Sue. This is a disaster."
"I won't disagree." She sipped her water and shrugged. "It couldn't be much worse, that's for sure."
The waiter returned with the check and boxes.
Lincoln couldn't hand over his card fast enough.
They boxed up the food.
The waiter returned with an irritated expression. "Sir, your card was declined." Then he sighed. Actually sighed.
Sue shoved her own card at him. "Here."
Lincoln stared at his card like it was covered in hieroglyphs. "That can't be." He'd checked his account and paid bills before he left to pick her up. This didn't make any sense.
"Obviously I'll pay you back. I'm so sorry." Sweat rolled down his back, and no doubt beaded across his forehead.
The waiter returned and handed Sue her card. "Sign the top, bottom is your copy. Have a lovely evening." His tone suggested that he did not, in fact, want them to have a lovely evening.
Lincoln stood quickly, taking a step toward Sue, intending to pull her chair out for her. At the same moment that she stood. His foot bumped the chair leg, and he stumbled. He reached out to catch himself on the edge of the table, but his hand grazed across Sue's wine glass. Sue's untouched, very full wine glass. Which splattered in every direction.
In slow motion, the dark red wine arced upward, then down, creating a red slash down the entire front of Sue's pretty light blue dress.
He made a strangled noise as the earpiece launched from his ear and landed on the table. He wasn't sure if he was going to vomit or cry. Or both.
She eyed the earpiece with a hint of sympathy, like maybe she thought it was a hearing aid. He shoved it back into his ear with violently shaking hands. Not that it mattered, because the idiot voices had gone silent.
The drive back to Sue's house was excruciating. Every quarter of a mile, he issued another desperate apology. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. It was forever before he pulled into her driveway.
"Sue, I'm—"
She snapped, "If you apologize one more time, I'm going to scream."
"I, uh, I'll walk you to your door?"
"NO. I've got it from here." She jumped out of the car and practically sprinted to the front door.