Then came the age-old dilemma. What to wear?
I tried and discarded a few outfits before finally settling on a basic black tank top, torn jeans, and of course, my new suede boots with the slender heels. Robert was tall, and I should make the most of that.
I felt butterflies flutter in my stomach, took a deep breath, and glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Ugh—I even looked nervous, my dark eyes a little too wide, my smile a little too forced. It had been more than two years since I’d been on a first date, after all. Would I even remember how to do it? As the nerves pricked my belly, I realized Peter had served another very important purpose: keeping me from having to endure the dreaded awkward first date.
A million thoughts bounced against each other in my brain like bumper cars: would I kiss him? Did I want to kiss him? Would we get along as well as I remembered, or would it be an evening punctuated with odd silences? I did not like first dates, I realized. I hated the unknown of them, the billion ways they could go horribly wrong.
Before Peter, I’d had a string of bad first dates, including one where the guy downed three Old Fashioneds in the span of fifteen minutes. By the appetizers, he was too drunk to properly string a sentence together. Worse, the man “forgot” his wallet, so I’d been stuck with the whole check. Clearly, there’d been no date two. Of course, by the time Peter had come around, it had made sense to go for him. He’d not ordered three drinks in three minutes, he never forgot his wallet, and being with him meant that I could put off the whole first-date fiasco.
I can do this, I told the mirror silently. I knew I could. I needed to if I was going to get beyond the curse of my poor-decision-making past. I took a deep breath and tuned back into my iPod attached to the speakers on my bathroom counter. Dr. Susie’s voice sounded calm and full of reason as she narrated Chapter One.
“The first date is the opportunity he has to show you what type of effort he’s going to put into this relationship. Does he make plans and capture your personality? The first date should be fun, appropriate, and something you’d enjoy.”
Right. I tried to remember the first time I’d gone out with Peter. I think it was to his own sports bar. Not exactly in keeping with my personality, since sports weren’t my thing unless Boston College was playing. My doorbell rang, and I instantly jumped. Ack! He was here.
I smoothed down my hair one last time as I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and scurried over to my foyer. Duke barked once and wagged his tail as I swung open the door.
Robert stood there, dark hair perfect, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hey,” he said, and I felt his perfectly pitched, low baritone reverberate in my stomach. I loved his voice, all warm and smooth, like drizzled chocolate over ice cream.
“Hey,” I said back, my nerves vanishing. He wore jeans and a simple gray sweater, looking good but not trying too hard.
“You look…amazing.” His eyes swept my casual outfit, lingering on my new suede boots. Good. I wore them to be noticed.
He stepped in, and for a heart-stopping second, I thought he might kiss me right here on my doorstep. Instead, he pulled me in for a hug. He was big and warm and strong, his arms feeling as if they belonged around me, and I inhaled the scent of his sweet and spicy aftershave. He backed away and held up a small bag of neatly tied doggie treats from the local bakery. “I got these for Duke, since I didn’t want him to be lonely without you tonight.”
Duke barked his appreciation and wagged his tail. “Smart man,” I said.
“I try.” He shrugged and handed me the treats. I took them and put them in Duke’s bowl, where he began eating them eagerly. No flowers, then, but he did think of my dog, which was more important to me than something pretty to put in a vase. “So, where are we off to?”
“How’s your golf game?” he asked me, the hint of a teasing smile on his face.
When he pulled into Joe’s Putt-Putt Funland, I thought he was kidding at first. After all, Joe’s Putt-Putt Funland came second only to Pizza Gameland as the place to go for every ten-year-old’s birthday party. I realized with a start I hadn’t been here since I’d come with Dad when I was a sophomore in high school, back when he was trying to convince me I wasn’t “too grown-up” for a place like Funland. Dad had always thought too many adults spent too much time not having fun when stuff like air hockey and video games could put a smile on anyone’s face.
“We’re going…here?” I glanced at Robert.
“What? You afraid I’m going to beat you?” He grinned as he got out of the car and hurried around to my side. He opened my door. “My lady,” he said and bowed like a knight of old. I had to laugh as I hopped out and followed him inside.
Still, a nagging little voice of doubt popped up in my head. Dr. Susie’d said first dates should be appropriate. Was mini-golf appropriate for a first date with a grown woman and not a fourteen-year-old? Plus, I had flashbacks to Peter and the batting cages. Was this one of those times I’d just sit around and watch someone else have all the fun?
But as Robert gathered up our putters and our balls, I found myself getting just a little bit excited. I wasn’t going to be sidelined this time. Dad had been right to drag me here as a surly teen. I’d had fun, despite myself.
“Ladies first,” Robert said, bowing once more as I put my yellow golf ball down on Hole One. I stood slightly to the left. I knew this hole. If you stood right in the center, the giant robot T. Rex would come to life and startle you when you were about to swing. I gave my ball a good smack, banking it off the left wall. It came to a rest just inches from the hole.
“I think I’m being hustled,” Robert said, staring at me with suspicion and the hint of a smile on his face.
“Your turn,” I told him, a challenge in my voice.
“Watch and learn,” Robert said as he put his ball down on the green right in the middle. The T. Rex predictably roared to life, making him jump and smack his ball hard right, away from the hole. I had to giggle. He’d fallen for the first trap.
“Don’t worry,” I tried to assure him. “He’s an herbivore. He only eats trees and bushes and golf balls.”
“That’s not an herbivore,” Robert declared. “That’s a Tyrannosaurus Rex. I want a mulligan.”
“Man up, friend,” I said, laughing. “The obstacles are part of mini-golf.”
I set up for my next shot, which I saw was about six inches to the hole. But just as I tapped the ball, Robert appeared and knocked it out of the way with his putter.
“Oh! That is so sad,” he teased.
“That’s not sad, that’s called cheating.”
Robert coughed. “You just told me obstacles were part of miniature golf.” He raised both eyebrows, and I had to laugh.
“Fine. Fair enough,” I said, determined not to let him win this round. Two could cheat. He positioned himself by his ball and swung his club, and as the ball rolled closer to me, I stopped it with the toe of my boot, just inches from the hole. Then I kicked it away.
“Oh, come on, that’s a foul!” Robert cried. “That’s clearly a foul.”
“There are no fouls in miniature golf,” I said, grinning. It was my turn, and I glanced down at my yellow ball, far in the corner of the green. “I’m going to pick up my ball and put it back where it should be.” I plunked it down where it had been before Robert had slapped it out of the way. “And that’s a gimme.”
“Tell you what,” Robert said, as he squatted down, leaning on his putter as he eyed the shot. “I’ll make you a wager.”
I sank to the ground too, so we were nearly eye level. I loved bets.
“You sink that putt, you choose where we go on our second date,” he declared, dark eyes never leaving mine. “You miss it, I get to choose where we go on our second date.”
I rested my chin on the handle of my putter. “You’re assuming we’re having a second date.”
“Oh, I am, and we are,” Robert said. Had to love that confidence. Who didn’t love a man who wasn’t afraid to go after what he wanted? “The where is the only question.”
“Okay. You ready?” I covered my eyes.
“Oh…blindfolded!” Robert sounded impressed.
I knocked the ball wildly on purpose. It swung just left of the hole. Dr. Susie would be proud. Even though I hadn’t gotten to her chapter on second dates yet, I was pretty sure she’d say Robert needed to do the planning. He had to prove his level of effort, right?
“Did you just miss that on purpose?” Robert asked, calling me out.
“I didn’t want to bruise your ego,” I said, “so I made it interesting.”
“You want interesting, huh? Let’s see that one more time.” He took my yellow ball and put it on the green next to the hole.
“Oh, I’ve got an idea,” I said. I laid down on the green as if it were a pool table, and used the handle of my club to tap the ball. Again, I missed.
He grinned at me. “Now, I know you’re doing that on purpose,” he said. “Say, what do you say to a real game of pool?”
Upstairs, in the massive game room of Joe’s Putt-Putt Funland, the “Funland” part included a mini arcade with skeeball and all the latest shoot ’em up games, as well as a whole corner of pool tables and air hockey. We headed for the left corner, where we set up a quick match of solids and stripes. Robert let me go first, which was his mistake—I nearly cleared the table on the first go.
“I am totally being hustled,” Robert joked, shaking his head. “What do you do? Hang out here on the weekends and take money from unsuspecting twelve-year-olds?”
“Something like that.” I laughed. “So, what do you do for a living?” I asked Robert as I lay over the corner of the pool table, about to sink the eight ball in our second game of solids and stripes. Robert just shook his head at me.
“Don’t scratch,” he warned, but I already knew I’d win the instant the stick touched the cue ball. It plunked into the corner pocket with no resistance.
Robert looked amazed.
“I am being hustled,” he said, whistling.
“You were saying?” I asked him, prompting him to answer my question.
“I don’t even know what I was saying—not after that shot.”
I laughed. Despite his protests, Robert was a good sport. Not all guys felt that way about losing. Take Peter, for instance. The one time I’d beaten him at pool, he’d insisted on playing three more games. He had to beat me before his ego was fully healed.
“So, what do I do? I oversee operations of and the financial budgets for the city’s parks and recreation department.” Robert sat on the edge of the pool table at the corner closest to me.
“That sounds very important,” I said, leaning toward him. “What made you want to get into that?”
“The free T-shirts,” Robert said, a perfectly serious expression on his face.
“Excuse me?” He’d lost me.
“Yeah. Whenever there’s an event that involves one of our facilities, I get to attend for free and I get a free T-shirt. Yesss!” He pumped a fist in the air. I laughed a little. “How about you?” he asked me as he slid off the pool table. “How did you get into marketing?”
“After college, I started out in a big conglomerate marketing firm tasked with increasing advertising and finding new avenues for promotion.” I thought back to those first days out of college in that hectic environment where I seemed to have all the responsibility but none of the credit. I’d confided in Dad about how I’d felt like a cog in the wheel, and he was the one who’d encouraged me to go out on my own.
“When I learned how things worked,” I continued, “and saw how much these companies were making by simply slapping a logo on stuff, I realized instead of going through a middleman, I could be the middleman. Plus, I wanted to work for the best boss in the world. And it turns out, that’s this guy.” I pointed at myself in the cheesiest way possible. “Right here.” It was exactly what Dad had always said about working for himself. He’d had his own painting company, and he’d loved being his own boss.
“Wow, humble, too,” Robert teased. “But, you know, good for you. It takes guts to go out on your own and start your own business.”
It did, didn’t it? It was the one thing people didn’t tell me too often. Sure, Peter had owned his own bar, but he was never in any real danger of financial ruin. He had years of major league baseball paychecks stocked away in mutual funds to cushion him if his business ever failed. Me? I was all on my own, no trust fund in sight.
The rest of the date sped by all too quickly. Turned out, there was no need for me to be nervous. I felt like I’d known Robert all my life. We laughed at the same jokes, and I could break out my corniest ones and he’d still crack a smile. It was almost like we shared a brain.
The end of the date came far too soon. Where had the night gone? After he’d parked in the visitor’s space of my condo building, and we’d walked the short distance to my front door, a gentle snow—the first of the season—began to fall. My nerves drummed in my stomach again. Was he going to kiss me? Did I want that? Part of me definitely did, but was I ready? Was I even sure Dr. Susie would approve? My instincts told me I wanted to plunge headfirst into a relationship with Robert, but my gut had steered me wrong in the past. Could I really trust it?
Robert faced me on my stoop, the soft snow falling around us. “I need to ask you a very personal question,” he said. “And I want you to think really, really hard before you answer, because I’d like the truth.”
He’d become so serious in that moment I began to wonder what it was all about. Was he going to ask me if it was okay that he had a wife in Arizona?
“I know we just met, and you really don’t know me, but I have to know…”
I literally held my breath, waiting. Robert moved towards me. Oh. He was going to kiss me. I knew it. I glanced at his full lips, the serious look on his face. Yep, a kiss was coming.
“Did you miss that putt on purpose?” A goofy smile spread across his face, and instantly, the tension evaporated. I laughed.
“And what if I did?”
“Then I get to choose where we have our second date.”
He stepped even closer, and I craned my neck up to meet his gaze. He was so tall.
“That would mean we both win,” I managed, now overcome by his body, so near mine. Snow began to lightly dust his jacket. Somewhere in the distance, someone had lit a fire in a wood-burning fireplace, sending the scent straight to my front door.
“Awww.” Robert cocked his head. “That’s just so…”
“Cheesy,” I said, rolling my eyes. Where had that sentimental sap come from? Oh, goodness. Was I turning into mush over here?
Robert cleared his throat. “Totally cheesy,” he added, his dark eyes never leaving mine. Something about the way he looked at me told me he didn’t mind. I couldn’t help but notice his lips, full and perfect, seeming to be asking to be kissed. I wondered what kind of kisser he’d be.
“I had a good time,” I said. And I did. I wanted badly to know what his lips felt like. All it would take was for me to reach up onto my tiptoes and press my lips against his. Was he moving closer? His eyes never left mine—dark, large, determined. But… I thought of Dr. Susie again and how she suggested women not get involved physically before they were sure he was a man worth pursuing. How when we get too physical too fast, we lose our ability to honestly evaluate a mate. Normally, I’d go with my gut and kiss Robert, but Dr. Susie taught me to second-guess my instincts. So, instead, I moved ever so slightly and pecked Robert on the cheek. He stiffened a little in surprise. Clearly, a kiss on the cheek wasn’t what he’d expected.
“Good night,” I said, and he stared at me a beat, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t offended. Interesting.
“Good night,” he said, nodding his head a bit. I slipped inside my condo foyer door and shut it behind me, heart beating wildly. How I’d wanted to kiss him! But, I had to give myself props for resisting the temptation. I was learning not to go with my instincts. Maybe I’d finally turned over a new leaf. Mom and Nadia would be so proud. Still, I stood at the window of the door and watched Robert tug up his collar against the whirling snowflakes as he walked from my porch.
And I suddenly wanted that second date to come sooner, rather than later.