This is a continuation of my previous posts:
- A ‘love Story, Part 1: Love with a Capital L,
- A ‘love’ Story, Part 2: My List of Fatal Flaws
- A “love’ Story, Part 3: The Inevitable Flaw
- A ‘love’ Story, Part 4: OK, Funny Is Good
- A ‘love’ Story, Part 5: A Woman’s Gotta Do What a Woman’s Gotta Do
I hope you’ll read them first.
“I guess she’s glad to see me…”
Once home, my body punished me for not taking its condition seriously and chattering away despite the pain in my throat. I awoke the next morning, unable to squeak a sound out. I had my son call the office and let them know I wouldn’t be in (the role reversal making his day, I think) and took to my bed. I was thankful it was Friday, and I’d have three days to apologize to my throat.
Monday, I was reasonably fit to return to the office. And I was really anxious to see if I had a message from my friend from the plane. I didn’t. Oh, well, it was only one working day. He probably just didn’t want to seem too anxious.
After several days, I couldn’t make myself believe that any longer. I decided he wasn’t going to call. I was disappointed, but work kept me busy and I just put it out of my mind. Besides, the first blush had paled a bit, and I was wondering what I had been thinking.
Two weeks went by, and then one day I picked up the ringing phone on my desk to discover it was him. He apologized for not calling sooner (I would find out why later) and we chatted a while. And then we set a date for the following Saturday night.
Woohoo! This was my first real date in years. I was excited.
Everything you’ve ever read about getting back into the whole dating thing after being out of it for a long time is totally true. I would have been absolutely terrified had it not been for the several hours of conversation on the plane. At least I knew he was easy to talk to and could be very entertaining.
Saturday came, and I spent ages getting ready. I must have changed my clothes three times. Finally, I was satisfied that I looked good without looking like I was trying too hard. I sat down to wait.
And I waited. And waited some more. When he was 10 minutes late, I reminded myself that he had a long drive, and thought maybe he had run into traffic or something. At 20 minutes, I started worrying. At 30 minutes, I was annoyed. I decided that I’d give him another 15 minutes, and then I was going out. If he showed after that, too bad for him.
Forty minutes after the time he was supposed to pick me up, he called. He was lost, having driven at least 10 miles past the highway exit for my town. I gave him the directions again and sat down to wait. Again. Finally, he arrived.
We headed out to have dinner and see a movie, both of us a little nervous. And then I did something that totally broke the ice. The passenger seat was too close to the dash for me (remember I told you I was tall?). So I reached down to the side and found the adjustment lever on the side of the seat. Bracing my feet firmly against the floor boards, I pulled the lever up and gave a mighty shove. And went flying backwards, ending up flat on my back. I had pulled the lever that adjusted the seat-back instead of the one to move the whole seat backwards.
So there I was, lying on my back beside him, startled into silence for a moment. He was a bit startled himself by the sudden movement beside him, and looked over at me. He quickly recovered and said, “I didn’t know you’d be so glad to see me.”
And then we were laughing so hard, he had to pull over.
It was a great beginning.
– to be continued –
Tune in tomorrow to see how this saga ends.
Same time, same channel.