A Brew in Time

by Robin Roseau

  “Did you just say ‘yes’?”

  “Yes, Janie,” I said. “I said ‘yes’. Janie, this isn’t just our first date. It’s my first date ever. How about you?”

  She shook her head. “I sort of dated one of the other counselors this summer, but it was just a summer thing.” Janie had been a youth camp counselor the last few summers. “Really? You’ll go on a date with me?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Janie.”

  “Good.” She smiled broadly. “Good.” She reached a hand for me, but then she snatched it back, spun around, and ran from my room. I stared after her.

  By the time I made it downstairs, Janie was gone, but Rose and Jenny stepped up to either side of me. It was Rose that asked, “So, did she ask you?”

  “Because it’s about time,” Jenny added.

  “She asked me,” I whispered.

  “And?” Jenny prompted.

  I considered carefully before I asked quietly, “Does the entire school know about her?”

  “You weren’t mean, were you?” Jenny asked. “I mean, with your aunt and all...”

  “We’re going to see a movie tomorrow night,” I said.

  “Not the entire school,” Rose said. “I mean, it’s not like the entire school even knows her name.”

  “Or yours,” Jenny added. “And most of the girls are too caught up with their own shit to worry about anyone else.”

  “But of the rest,” Rose said slowly.

  “Yep,” Jenny said. “What no one can tell is how you feel.” But then she smiled and gave me a quick hug. “Rose said you’d say ‘yes’, if Janie ever asked.”

  “Rose was right,” I said.

  * * * *

  “Janie left in a hurry,” Lamia said as she was getting ready to go. “What did you do to her?”

  “I told her ‘yes’.”

  “Yes to what?”

  “Whether I’d go to a movie tomorrow night.”

  “Oh,” Lamia said. “Oh,” she repeated. “So, are you two a couple then?”

  “It’s just a date,” I said.

  “Right. Just a date. Well, good luck.” And then she turned and walked out the door. I stared after her.

  * * * *

  It was another half hour later that I knocked at the doorframe to Mom and Dad’s bedroom. They were both sitting up in bed. Dad had a book and Mom had her Kindle. They both looked up. “Did you have a nice birthday, Lydia?” Dad asked.

  “Amazing,” I said. I stepped fully into the room. “Dad, you should ask Mom on a date tomorrow night.”

  “I should, should I?”

  “And get Aunt Jackie to take the squirtlet.”

  “Squirtlet?” Mom asked. “And what will you be doing while the house is otherwise empty?”

  I looked down at the foot of the bed for a moment then finally said, “Making dinner for my date. Janie and I are going to a movie.”

  “Huh,” said Dad. “Who asked whom?”

  I looked up. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “No,” he said slowly. “I’m sure your mother will have a lot more to say.”

  “She asked me,” I said. “Mom already told you.”

  “About Janie? No.”

  “About me.”

  Dad shook his head. “Both of you think I’m utterly clueless. I’ll have you know, I’m only half as clueless as you both seem to assume.” He smiled and then looked at Mom. “How long have you known?”

  “About five hours,” Mom said.

  Dad chortled. “Mark this one down in the calendar. So the two of you will have dinner with us before your movie.”

  “Dad,” I whined. In response, he folded his arms. “She said that’s too much.”

  Mom set a hand on Dad’s arm. “Jackie and Phoebe have an event tomorrow,” Mom explained. “How long do you need us out of the house?”

  I thought about it. “Longer than you’re going to want to take a 4-year-old to dinner.”

  “We’ll be out by five,” Mom said. “And stay out until at least seven. Is that long enough?”

  “Yes. Thanks, Mom.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have a nice time.”

  First Date

  I got home from school and immediately hopped on my bike for the ride to the grocery store. It wasn’t bad, only about a mile. I used to think it was so far, but Mom once told me, “Distances, like time, shrink when you get older.”

  I already decided I wanted to put on a nice meal; I wasn’t going to just buy a frozen pizza or something. I started in the produce department then worked my way through the store. At checkout I spent a good chunk of my birthday money, but I felt good about the choices I was making. I stuffed everything into my backpack and hopped back on my bike.

  Mom was just getting home as I pulled up. She didn’t see me and must have hit the remote for the garage door, but it reversed as I rode underneath. Mom climbed from her car just as I climbed from the bike, and she looked a little surprised to see me.

  “I went to the store,” I said. I rotated so she could see the backpack.

  “Help me with your sister,” she said.

  Inside, Mom helped me unpack my bag and then asked, “What are you making?” Then she saw all the fruit and asked, “Do you have any birthday money left?”

  “Some,” I said. “Mom?”

  “Let me get Serephine settled,” she said. “Come on, Baby Girl.”

  The two disappeared, and a few minutes later, I heard the television come on. That wouldn’t hold her for long, but she’d be busy for a few minutes at least. I busied myself washing the fruit but looked up when Mom stepped into the kitchen.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Terrified,” I said.

  “Darling, this is Janie. You’ve known her since grade school. You are friends.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “But it’s my first date, Mom. Were you scared the first time you and Dad went out?”

  “No. He was, though. But you know your father wasn’t my first boyfriend, either. But no, I wasn’t scared for that one, either, but it was different.”

  “Why was it different?”

  “Well, for one thing, I wasn’t trying to cook a fancy meal.”

  “It’s not that fancy.”

  “How about if I help you?” I looked at Mom dubiously. “Honestly,” she said. “I’ll help you. I won’t take over.”

  “I’m not sure you’re capable of that, Mom.”

  She folded her arms. “Try me. If I do anything you don’t ask me to do, I’ll pay for a portion of the groceries you just bought, the percentage based on how egregious the transgression.”

  I laughed. “Deal.”

  She surprised me. She didn’t take over, not once. Instead, she did anything I asked, and when I invited advice, she gave some. And we had a really good time cooking.

  It was the first time I’d been the boss in the kitchen, and I decided I liked it.

  But most importantly, she gave me the confidence I was lacking. While she didn’t take over, I knew, I absolutely knew in my heart that if I were screwing up, she wouldn’t have been able to help it. And knowing she had my back, and that she didn’t even twitch like she was about to take over, I knew at least for the meal, I was doing it right.

  “What time is she arriving?”

  “Five-oh-one,” I said, “Or whenever she sees you and Dad pull out of the driveway, whichever comes second.”

  Mom laughed. “What movie are you going to see?”

  “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

  She laughed again. “Probably not. Honey, do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I’m sautéing the beans.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the question I was asking.”

  “No, Mom,” I said. “I don’t have a clue. What am I supposed to do?”

  “You’re supposed to have a nice time with your good friend, Janie, whom you love.”

  “I’m not in love!”

  “I didn’t say ‘in love’,” Mo
m replied. “There are different types of love. You’re not in love with Serephine, but you love her.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you want some advice, honey?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you want me to do to finish this. Go up and clean up. Dress up for her. Show her that you put in an effort to look nice.”

  “What’s wrong with this?”

  “Or don’t,” Mom said. “It’s your choice. But you’ve seen me get ready for a date with your father. You’ve even seen him get ready.”

  “He shaves.”

  “He does,” Mom said. “And dresses nice.”

  “Muscle shirts to show off his awesome pecs.”

  “Something like that,” Mom said.

  I looked down at what I was wearing. I thought about how I hoped Janie looked when she showed up. And I realized if she showed up looking as grubby as I was right now, I might be a little offended. “It’s almost ready,” I said. “I’ll pop the chicken into the oven in...” I looked at the clock. “Five minutes. I won’t start the pasta until she gets here.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on everything,” Mom said.

  “What do you think I should wear?”

  “Are you honestly asking me?”

  “You always tell me that there is no obligation to accept advice.”

  “True. Honey, I think you should wear the outfit Jay-jay and Karla bought you.” I considered Mom carefully. “You might not have noticed, Lydia, but Janie was watching you very carefully when you held it up.”

  “It’s a little pink.”

  “You have always looked very good in pink,” Mom replied. “What’s the problem?” Then her expression cleared. “Ah. You’re worried it’s too...”

  “I’ve never seen Aunt Jackie wear pink.”

  “The most butch woman you know picked out that outfit,” Mom said. “Do you know how pleased she’ll be knowing you wore it for your first date ever? Don’t you trust Jay-jay?”

  “I’m not sure I trust her taste.”

  “Jay-jay has a fine eye,” Mom said. “Yes, you’re going to look cute. Or sweet. Do you really have a problem with either of those?”

  “I’m 18 now.”

  “And struggling to be considered an adult.” She shrugged. “Perhaps you don’t have enough confidence. I’m sure your current clothing is fine.”

  “Mom,” I whined.

  “You asked for my advice. I’ve told you what I think. It’s up to you to decide what you’re going to do.”

  I nodded and turned for the stairs.

  * * * *

  I opened the door. Mom, Dad, and Serephine had been gone all of a minute and a half, so Janie really must have been waiting. I opened the door, and then we stared at each other. She was wearing her own skirt and blouse. Hers was white and open at the collar. She’d put on makeup, and done a better job than I had, although Mom had helped me a little at the end.

  She looked really, really nice.

  “You wore it,” Janie said, beginning to smile. “I hoped you would.”

  “Really?”

  “Are you kidding? You look great. Going to invite me in?”

  I stepped back, holding the door, then closed it behind her. Janie set her purse down on the stand near the door, and then we turned to each other awkwardly.

  “Come on. I just have to drop the pasta into the water.”

  I led the way to the kitchen. On the way, Janie got a look at the dining room table. I’d set it with a white tablecloth and candles. I’d originally put the place settings at opposite ends, but Mom said, “Honey, do you really want to be ten feet from your date?”

  “Isn’t this how they go?”

  “They go however you want them, but if it were me, I’d set up at adjacent corners.” She gestured what she meant. So I set up one place at the end and one around the corner.

  And then I’d used the good dishes.

  “Wow,” Janie said. “It’s not frozen pizza, is it?”

  “No,” I said.

  We reached the kitchen. I dropped the pasta into the water, checked the chicken, and then turned to Janie with a nervous smile. “Thank you for asking me out.”

  “Thank you for saying ‘yes’,” she said. “And it smells wonderful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So you had it catered?”

  “I cooked everything myself!” I said indignantly. “Mom helped, but she only did the things I told her to do.”

  Janie laughed. “That’s not at all like my mom.”

  “Your mom is okay.”

  “Yeah, but she’s a demon in the kitchen,” Janie said.

  “Would you like something to drink?” It felt awkward. Internally, I kicked myself, but I went on. “We have water and milk, of course, but I can make tea.”

  “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “It’s not any trouble. Tea?”

  “Sure.”

  I put together the electric kettle and set out the teapot, then I said, “Do you have a favorite?”

  “Surprise me.”

  I turned to her. “Ever had tea before?”

  “Um.”

  I laughed. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  She nodded. “If I don’t like it, I can always have water.”

  “Right. Smell this.” I opened a bag of my favorite tea and held it out to her. She took a sniff and smiled, nodding. “Good.”

  After that, we settled down, at least a little, at least for a while. The kettle announced the water was hot, and I set the leaves to steeping. The timer went off on the pasta. I saw to that and drizzled it with some olive oil before sliding it into a bowl. I know the master chefs tell you not to oil the pasta, but I was living dangerously.

  I carried that to the table, then pulled the chicken from the oven. It took just a minute to slice the chicken into manageable pieces. They went onto another plate, and then we carried the rest into the dining room.

  I held the chair for Janie. “Thank you, m’lady,” she said with a grin.

  I actually dished both our plates, hovering around and working over her shoulder. While doing so, I got a sniff of her hair and froze.

  She smelled really good. Really good.

  Then I realized I was sniffing her hair and went back to what I was doing. When I sat down, Janie was looking at her hands, but she was wearing a smile. I decided I’d been busted and wondered if she was going to tease me for it.

  She didn’t.

  “What are we seeing?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t sure if I should pick something.”

  “So we can pick something together,” I said. “Did you have one in mind?”

  “Brie Turner has a new movie out,” she said.

  “It looks really cute. What time?”

  “7:15.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “We won’t be rushed.” I smiled. “I want to savor the night, Janie,” I said. “I don’t want to rush through it.”

  “You do?” she asked.

  Now, if she asked, I would have to admit that was something Aunt Jackie has said more than once, that she wanted to savor an event. I really liked it, and I wasn’t afraid of stealing the concept.

  “Is that okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said a little shyly. “Totally.”

  We smiled at each other. I knew we were both nervous, and a part of me knew that was ridiculous. As Mom had said: this was Janie. We’d been friends for ten years. “Janie?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you as nervous as I am?”

  “Totally.” We both laughed together.

  “What’s the difference between going to a movie as friends, and going on a date?”

  “We both dressed up for it?”

  “Sure. And?”

  She scrunched her face. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

  “I think the difference is hand-holding,” I declared. I set my hand on the table between us, palm up. She stared at it then slowly set he
r own hand inside mine. We both clasped, and then we both stared at our joined hands.

  I was grinning, and when I finally looked up, so was she.

  I ate left-handed.

  * * * *

  Janie drove. We didn’t hold hands for the drive, but as soon as we were out of the car, she grabbed my hand, then laughed. “Is this okay?”

  “More than okay,” I told her.

  We’d bought tickets online. Inside, Janie flashed her phone. Two minutes later we were sitting in the comfortable seats of our local theater, the armrest pushed up out of the way, holding hands again, Janie on my right.

  I was still nervous, but not as nervous. The excitement level had gone up, though, and I think holding hands was part of it.

  We talked about the same sort of things we might always talk about, and we were a little giggly about it, or maybe a lot giggly. But no one else in the theater paid any particular attention to us, and we quieted down during the previews. During the second, I leaned to her and whispered, “I’d see that one.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed.

  I’m not sure how it happened, but we actually watched the movie, although I felt Janie sneaking glances at me now and then, and I was doing the same with her. I decided she was beautiful, and a few times I found myself staring at our clasped hands.

  This was really happening. I was on my first date, and with a girl I really liked, one who really liked me. I looked over at her and was struck by how beautiful she was. I smiled and did what I could to pay attention to the movie.

  It was hard.

  Eventually, we sat through the credits, still holding hands. Most of the people left, but we weren’t the last to leave. Finally, we turned to each other. Janie looked down at our clasped hands then back up at me. She smiled. “I can’t really believe this,” she whispered.

  “Did you want me to pinch you so you know you’re not dreaming?”

  “Are you suggesting you think you’re the girl of my dreams?” Her words registered, and it must have shown on my face, as she began laughing, then used her free hand to point a finger at me. “Gotcha.”

  “You are such a brat.”

  “I know. Ready?”

  “Sure.”

  We both got up. We continued to hold hands, all the way to her car, although we giggled and teased each other. Then we separated, climbing in on opposite sides. Janie started the car, then sat there, staring ahead. I watched her. “What’s wrong?”