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At ten minutes before seven Ryan Calhoun entered the bistro. He was dressed in his best black jeans and a blue shirt and was carrying in his hand a single stem of a peach rosebud, just ready to open completely.
“I’m here to meet Polly Moore,” he announced in a loud voice so most of the people present could hear. In Las Vegas, there were more important dramas and intrigues and no one would have cared about who he was dating. In small town Laramie, it was a different story.
“Polly, you said?” the hostess repeated stunned.
He dimpled charmingly and twisted the rose in his hand. “That’s right. Could I have a table for two?”
There were quite a lot of customers at this hour and not many free tables, but the hostess led him to a small table right in the middle of the room. For a real date, he would have preferred a more private place. For his purpose however, this was perfect. Besides, there were no booths in the restaurant. It seemed that a European dining experience required small tables one near the other without much privacy.
He placed the flower on the table continuing to smile affably. He was resigned to wait at least half an hour. Polly deserved this.
The server approached the table and placed a tall glass with an iced drink in front of him. “Have a glass of iced-tea while you wait,” she said friendly.
Ryan would have preferred beer, but the restaurant was small and had no bar, so probably there was no beer. He nodded his thanks and took a large gulp from the frosty glass. It was surprisingly pleasant with a fruity flavor. “Good,” he said smacking his lips. “What kind is it?”
The server, a young girl freshly out of high school, smiled showing her teeth covered by a straightening brace. “It’s mango tea.”
Ryan had never heard of tea made from mango, but he thanked her again and she withdrew to the kitchen. It was easier to wait while sipping a cold drink.
A portly man at a table nearby half-twisted in his chair to face Ryan. “So you’re waiting for Polly Moore, are you? How did the matchmakers convince you to this blind date?”
Ah, this was one of the gossipy souls. It was as Polly told him. She was the talk of the town. Ryan placed his glass down. “I don’t know any matchmaker,” he said shrugging.
“The ladies from the knitting circle,” the man elaborated, still chewing his steak.
“Nope. I don’t know them.”
“Do you know Polly?” asked a tall lady seating at a table on Ryan’s other side. Her hair was unnaturally platinum blond with fat curls and Ryan thought she forgot her hair rollers on when she left home.
“Yes, I know Polly. Of course I do or I wouldn’t be waiting for her here,” he answered taking the rose and bringing it to his nose in a significant gesture.
The lady pursed her lips. She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “You are new in town.” It was not a question. The woman seemed to be well informed and knew what was going on in town. “Where did you meet her?”
This was a bit more intrusive than casual polite conversation allowed and Ryan almost told her that it was none of her business, but he remembered why he submitted himself to the ordeal to face the people in such a public place. Because he owed it to Polly for standing her up previously and because she deserved to be treated better, not to be mocked for her unfortunate dates. He directed his most charming smile to the woman. “I met her at the lawyer’s office. She was there to see her sister.”
“Ah, the beautiful Olivia.” The lady nodded her understanding. “If you hope to get to her through Polly, you’re out of luck.”
Drat, these people knew everything. “My dating Polly has nothing to do with her sister,” he denied vehemently.
The woman was not so easily convinced. “If you say so.” She turned her attention back to the food on her plate. Then she paused with the fork in mid-air. “Tell you what. When you’re done with Polly, I have a pretty niece who’s a cashier at the feed and seed store. You go and see her and you won’t regret. She’s a good girl, Nancy. Yes, she is.” Satisfied, she turned back to her dinner companion, another older lady dressed all in black. They whispered to one another, and from time to time an exclamation like ‘Oh, no’ or ‘Really?’ was heard louder.
Ryan raised his glass only to see that it was empty. He was also very hungry and the smell of freshly cooked food coming from the other tables was quite appetizing. Unfortunately, if he was supposed to wait for his date he couldn’t order food. Perhaps a refill of the mango tea was acceptable.
Like guessing his thoughts the young server materialized near his table and placed in front of him a plate with two croissants. “Courtesy of the cook while you’re waiting,” she said refilling his empty glass.
“Thank you,” he told her, looking at the appetizing pastries in front of him. She left him to enjoy the croissants. It took him less than a minute to wolf them down. They were delicious, but he’d have eaten even a less tempting morsel. He was that hungry. He looked at his empty now plate and wondered if it was bad manners to eat the flakes that remained crumbled there.
Alerted by the server about his presence, a gorgeous redhead woman dressed in a chef’s uniform came from the kitchen and stopped near his table. “You’re the one waiting for Polly?” she asked measuring him up and down.
“Yes, I am,” he confirmed wondering why it was the cook’s business who he was waiting for.
“Impossible,” she concluded. “Last I know she was taking Maurice from the groomer.”
He frowned. “Who is Maurice and why can’t he groom himself?”
She laughed showing a perfect row of white teeth. “Maurice is her dog. A mongrel Polly found as a stray on the street and adopted him. Not a bad dog, but somewhat fussy,” she added. Then she went back to questioning him. “So how come you’re waiting for her here?” She looked at him with suspicion. Then all of a sudden her green eyes lighted with understanding. “You’re the one who stood her up. Why you... how could you do this to her, to Polly of all the women in the world? She is so gentle and sweet and fragile. How could you hurt her so?”
Well, great. His well-intended date was headed for complete disaster. Aware of the curious audience around them he tried to protest. “No, I...”
The redhead would have none of it. She was in a row. “I’ll tell you what I think of you.”
“Cut that out, Kat.” The intervention came from a tall man in a deputy’s uniform who had just entered the restaurant.
The woman turned and the fight went out of her. Flashing with anger just seconds ago, now her eyes lit and she beamed at the deputy. “Brett, I’m so happy you came here before your shift. I missed you, honey.” Then she frowned and turned to Ryan. “Do you know what he did?” she asked the deputy.
“Yeah, I do. It’s not our business. Leave him alone.” The deputy stirred the fiery cook toward the kitchen. She didn’t protest, but allowed him meekly to usher her away from the room.
Go figure, Ryan thought. Saved by Deputy Lockhart no less. He guessed that the gorgeous redhead was his wife. How the world had changed in his absence. The bully deputy turned into a family man with an adoring wife who called him ‘honey’.
Admitting defeat despite his good intentions, Ryan was ready to call the server to order some food when the loud comments around him ceased little by little and he became aware that everyone attention turned to the entrance.
Polly stood there, breathing heavily like she’d run to get to the bistro faster, with her hair flying in all directions and her lavender t-shirt twisted. Ryan felt he had never seen a more attractive woman in his life. He waved at her and she smiled and walked to his table.
“Well, young lady, you left this man to wait quite a long time,” the portly man told her.
Polly collapsed in the chair opposite Ryan and tried to catch her breath. “Were you here long?”
“Nah, not at all,” Ryan answered politely. He consulted his watch. “A mere... forty-five minutes.”
“I’m sorry. It was one of those days. Maurice threw a fit because he didn’t want to leave the groomer’s place without one of the toys he was given there. Then my mother called and it took me quite a while to convince her no disaster befell me. I don’t know what Olivia told her, but she was set to drive here right away.”
“I thought your parents were on a cruise.”
“That’s what I thought too. But apparently they were back.” She signaled the server to come with a familiarity that showed she was a frequent guest here. “Clara, bring us the day’s special. I’m famished.” She turned to Ryan. “I hope you don’t mind I ordered. Everything Kathleen cooks is great.”
“No, I don’t mind,” Ryan hastened to reply. He was not adventurous about food, although in Las Vegas one could find a lot of ethnic cuisine varied and very tasteful. He was a simple meat and potatoes man at heart, but now he was so hungry he could eat any fancy food placed in front of him. “How is your writing going?” he asked her.
That transformed her from the worried, lip biting, frazzled woman into a calm, confident, smiling person. This was her world. “Oh, I had a new idea just last night. The witch will fly to this new planet to look for the prince imprisoned there by the bad elves.”
“The witch?” he asked confused. “I thought you wrote romances.”
“She’s a good witch. And it is a romance. A fantasy romance. She is in love with the prince,” she explained impatient. “It’s an entirely different world.”
“It sure is. I thought the prince is usually saving the leading lady from the witch. Is the witch the leading lady in this case?”
“Yes, she is. I think I have to explain to you more in order to be familiar and understand the fantasy world.” She bent across the table and said in a low voice for his ears only, “Sometimes I’m frustrated with all the worldly issues that need attention every day and take me away from my imaginary world of writing. Don’t tell this to anyone. People already think I’m weird,” she confessed.
He thought about it. “No, you’re not weird. In fact, every person likes to dream from time to time. I guess you enjoy it more than others. There is nothing wrong with that. Confronted with only the stark reality and every day worries, without the possibility to dream and hope for better, life would be unbearable.”
Surprised by his insight, Polly touched his hand across the table. “You understand me so well.”
“I’m your friend, Polly.”
“Thank you. You are a nice person despite what Olivia says. Look how you waited for me here. And you know what? I made the decision to help you achieve your wish.” She smiled broadly at him.
“My wish?” Ryan thought about it and came out blank. “What wish?” She couldn’t help him with the new development. That couldn’t be it.
“Why, to court Olivia, of course. To court and to win her.”