The oven chimed. Andi said, “Something is done.”
I pulled open a drawer to find an oven mitt, and then I drew the perfectly cooked lasagna out of the oven and rested it on a stovetop burner. I said, “I think they are happy with each other in eternity.”
Andi asked, “What’s the last bit of the story? What made them so happy?”
“Mom said they died only a month apart. After Sawyer died, Leon caught pneumonia, and he was soon gone, too. Both of their wills stipulated that they wanted to be buried side-by-side, and they are. They are buried together in a small cemetery in the city of Chicago.”
“Maybe we should make a long weekend trip this summer to the big city,” said Andi. “As part of the fun, we could pay our respects to Leon and Sawyer and leave flowers at their graves.”
I pulled a plastic container of homemade vinaigrette from the refrigerator and a salad spinner filled with lettuce. I said, “That sounds perfect. Now, for your contribution to the meal, toss all of this together while I set the table. Do you think you can handle that, Andi?”
She sipped at her tea and said, “I’m not quite sure, but I’ll give it my best effort. Do you have salad tongs and a bowl?”
I pointed at the cupboard beside the sink and said, “Top shelf. Use a chair if you need a boost.”
2
Dinner
Andi took her first bite, let it roll around in her mouth, and then swallowed. She said, “That is absolutely awesome, Joel. I suppose that is some relative’s secret recipe, too?”
I said, “It’s Grandma Rounds’ pride and joy. She always made it when she thought Grandpa and I needed a solid, filling meal. It was usually after we went for a hike or Grandpa needed help with a big project in the shed or in the garden.”
After another bite, Andi asked, “This is Friday. What do you have planned for the rest of the weekend? Will you be shut up in your back yard communing with the flowers?”
I asked, “Is that much different than you sequestering yourself in your workroom making dresses?”
Andi said, “No, I think we both need lives beyond our personal obsessions. I’m working on it. I’m going out to the state park on Sunday with Mindy and her kids.”
I said, “I have a date.
“A date? Oh, is this the guy you went out with last weekend? A second date, Joel?”
“Third.
“Are you going to aim for personal records this weekend? I thought you usually get bored after the second date and find a reason to cut him loose. At least that’s the Joel Ellis that I know.”
I sipped at my tea and leaned across the table. “I know, Andi, that’s how I usually am, but this is different. I can feel it. There’s something about him that stirs my gut.”
Andi smirked. “Makes you hard?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not just that, but yeah, he is handsome…and sexy.”
“How did you meet?”
I said, “I want to say it just happened, but the truth is he saw me on the street one day downtown, and he crossed the street to get to me. It was like he came out of nowhere, but once he saw me, he knew that I was the one.”
“What did you say when he approached you?” asked Andi.
“Hello.” I looked at Andi with a question on my face. “What else would I say?”
She laughed and said, “I guess that is as good as any other response. Did you ask him out?”
I shook my head and said, “No, he said, ‘We must go out on a date together.’ He was so handsome. There was no way that I was turning him down.”
“What did you say his name is?”
“Alex,” said Joel. “Wow, I even like how it rolls off my tongue.” I said it again, “Alex.” I looked across the table to try and assess Andi’s response. I considered her a good judge of character even though she thought I should have kept some of my earlier date rejections.
Andi reached her napkin up to her lips and wiped gently. “So what makes him all that, Joel? I see a little glow in your eyes.”
I said, “He’s smart.” Then I sliced off a corner of the lasagna and took another bite. I savored the comforting blend of garlic, tomato, and rich eggy pasta. It always made me think of childhood in the best possible ways.
“That’s it?” asked Andi. “He’s smart. What about that one guy, Healey, that you dated. Wasn’t he a history professor? How much smarter can you get than that?”
“Alex is a writer,” said Joel. “He’s into history, too, but he researches topics and then writes a book that reads like a novel. Usually he focuses on the experiences of one person. He won awards for a book about a massive tornado in the Midwest.”
Andi smiled. “A writer. He can write you sexy love letters. Have you gotten a love letter yet, Joel?”
I laughed. “No, but I bet he would do a great job.” I watched as Andi finished the last bite of her lasagna.” I asked, “Would you like more? I’ve got a full pan of it.”
“I don’t want any more right now, but if you could trouble yourself to pack up some of it for me to take home, I would love that.”
I said, “Sure, that’s no problem. He’s a little old-fashioned, too. I think I like that.”
Andi raised an eyebrow as she sipped at her tea. “Old-fashioned? In what way?”
“He dresses like a gentleman. For both of our dates he wore real pants and not jeans. He wore a button-down dress shirt, and he’s polite, and…traditional.”
Andi said, “I bet he would love your living room then, or has he seen it already?”
I frowned. “Do I look that easy? We’ve been out to dinner once, and then last weekend we met for a picnic at the city park.”
“That was your first date?” Andi said, “That’s just adorable. Does he have a straight brother?”
I laughed and said, “I think he’s an only child. There is something else about him, though.”
“Something else?” asked Andi. I watched as she pushed her plate forward toward the center of the table and carefully laid her knife and fork on the plate with the tines pointing down. She folded her hands in her lap and then looked at me expectantly.
“It’s just…when I’m with him, I feel like I’m in the right place. It’s like we were meant to be together Andi. Is that strange?”
She grinned. “I think you have a big crush on the guy, Joel. There’s nothing wrong with that at all. It makes me happy. Is this the first time you’ve felt that way?”
I sighed and said, “Sadly, yes, but maybe it won’t matter. If he’s the right one, he’s the right one…”
“Now you’re heading a little fast down the road. Just give it some time to unfold. If it really is right, I’m sure you will see some other signs.” She sipped at the tea once more time before folding her hands in her lap and pushing her chair gently away from the table.
“Signs?” I asked. “What kind of signs? Like fireworks when we kiss?”
“Did that happen?”
I grinned. “It wasn’t fireworks. It was more like the most awesome warm feeling that spread all the way down to my toes.”
She stood up from the table and asked, “Can I take your plate?”
I said, “Sure, okay. There’s a pecan pie in the pantry.”
Andi rubbed her belly. She was still as thin as I remembered her in high school. She said, “You should have told me before I downed so much lasagna.”
I asked, “You would have eaten less?”
She grunted, “No, and you know I wouldn’t. Can I at least act like someone who tries to eat healthy?”
I laughed and handed her my plate. “Tell me more about these signs. If you weren’t thinking about fireworks, what were you thinking about?”
“It’s hard to say,” replied Andi. “When I was with Max, he knew exactly what flowers I loved. I didn’t tell him anything in advance. He brought me a bouquet of delphiniums. I took that as a clear sign.”
I remembered Max. Andi was head over heels for him and they dated for six months before
he fell for someone new. She was distraught in the aftermath, and I finally had to literally drag her out of her house two weeks later to face the world once again. I said, “But…”
She carried the plates to the sink and said, “Yeah, I know. That ended up as a disaster, but still, it’s that kind of sign.”
I asked, “So if he wears boxer briefs instead of briefs or boxers, it’s a sign?”
Andi giggled. “It might be. I’m not sure underwear is one of the key things in life…”
I stood up from the table and folded my arms across my chest. “For me, taste in underwear is as important as preference in flowers. It’s intimate, and it tells everything about how you think of your own body. If it’s packaged well, I’m usually going to like the gift contained inside.”
Andi opened the pantry and scooped the pecan pie into her hand. I picked it up the day before from Sandy Newsome, who lives five blocks down the street from me, in a bartering exchange for a box full of my tomatoes. Andi asked, “And where are you going for the date?”
I said, “Martin’s Dock, down by the river.”
She smiled and said, “You know, I think I’ve only been there twice in my life even though it’s been open for over a hundred years. That is a classy choice, Joel.”
3
Preparation
I was both nervous and excited as I stood naked in front of my bathroom lavatory staring at myself in the mirror. I liked what I saw. I celebrated my thirtieth birthday a little over a month ago. I could see a few signs of aging in tiny lines at the corner of my eyes, and my shoulders broadened slightly since high school, but otherwise, I still looked young.
My hair was naturally unruly. Consequently, I kept it trimmed close to my scalp. That made my friends always want to run their hands over my head. Even though I shook my head in disgust each time that it happened, I admit that I loved the physical touch.
I believed in being well-groomed and well-dressed any time that I went on a date. As an adult of my age, it was impossible to predict when I might find myself naked or nearly so for the first time with someone who was still close to being a stranger.
Hopping in the shower, I thought about my first kiss with Alex as the warm water rained down over my head. It was gentle and little more than a peck at first. We were sitting in the car together after our picnic date. I was climbing into my car getting ready to leave when Alex asked if he could join me inside the car for a few minutes. With a shy smile, I said, “Yes.”
It didn’t take long for the peck to become more intimate. Alex reached a hand up behind my head and inclined his head slightly so that our facial features would not collide. Our tongues touched, and I could feel warmth spread throughout my body. It felt like we had kissed a thousand times before. It felt right.
Then Alex placed his hand under my chin and pulled back staring deeply into my eyes. He reached out a fingertip and touched my mustache saying, “I love this. It’s so handsome on you.”
I smiled and said, “I’ve had it for ten years now.”
As I pulled my thoughts back to the present, I could feel myself stiff and hard under the warm water. My instinct was to touch myself and bring myself to an orgasm, but I stopped myself because I wanted that sexual edge throughout the date. I wanted to feel excited by Alex’ presence. I wanted to want more throughout the entire evening.
After a quick shampoo of my hair and sudsing over my body, I rinsed and then climbed out of the shower. Staring into the mirror once more, I completed my shave and tooth brushing routine. Then I smiled and thought, “Attractive enough.”
I often went out for the evening without any type of cologne or fragrance, but something about Alex’ old-fashioned gentlemanly approach told me that it was a good idea. On our first dinner date, I used a light amount, and I heard Alex murmur, “You smell so good,” as he buried his nose in my neck.
Finally, I had to figure out exactly what to wear. We were going to one of the finer restaurants in our small city which meant it didn’t approach the elegance of what would be found in a major city, but I still needed to look presentable for Alex.
After trying on three shirts, and pushing racks of pants and blue jeans back and forth in the closet five times, I settled on a slightly conservative deep pale blue dress shirt, and a crisp new-looking pair of blue jeans. I matched those with brown dress shoes, and a brown corduroy sport jacket. Ducking back into the bathroom to check myself in the mirror, I smiled at the conservative yet stylish package.
Although I don’t normally wear a watch, I added the one that I kept in the top drawer of my dresser just for occasions in which I wanted to dress for a more upscale role. It was showtime.
I looked in the mirror one more time. There was no need for a comb or a hairbrush. My hair was short enough that it would respond to neither. I took three long, deep breaths and headed for the door.
It was only a ten-minute drive to Martin’s Dock. Since it was a Saturday evening, reservations were mandatory. I parked in the lot that was shared with a riverside interpretive center and quickly scanned the lot for Alex’s car. At first I didn’t see it, but, with a quick glance over my shoulder as I neared the door, it materialized. He drove a Toyota Prius, the most practical of contemporary automobiles. It was a perfect fit with his personality as I understood it.
Diners filed toward the door from three different directions, and I fell in with the group. As I stepped through the door, I turned to the right, away from the host podium, and scanned the crowd. Rising to three inches beyond six feet, Alex was easy to spot. We saw each other at exactly the same time, and my heart began to pound.
Alex knifed his way through the mingling crowd to give me a hug. It was perhaps only the fifth time I’d hugged him, but it felt like we had been hugging for at least five years. He immediately buried his nose in my neck again, inhaled and whispered in my ear, “You smell perfect, Joel.”
I could feel his breath against the tiny hairs on my neck. It made my skin tingle, and my eyes uncontrollably fluttered open and shut. I held on tight to Alex until I regained a sense of calm.
I whispered back to him, “And you feel perfect.”
4
Date
Alex was dressed very traditionally in khakis, white shirt, and dark blue blazer. As the server escorted us to our table with a view to the river, he waited for me to sit first before he seated himself.
The server handed us menus, and then stepped away from the table. Alex glanced around at the other diners and said, “This restaurant has changed so much through the years, but I’m sure the original owners would be proud of what it has become.”
I asked, “How much do you know about the history of the restaurant, Alex?”
He looked slightly startled and then said, “My family has been coming here for decades. I remember my grandmother talking about it as the place for special family events long before people regularly went out to eat three times a week. She said my grandfather proposed here.”
I smiled and said, “Oh, that is a special family memory.” I glanced down at the menu and then asked, “Are there any particular dishes that you remember your family talking about? What would they eat on those special occasions.”
He pointed at the menu and said, “Shrimp cocktail has always been a favorite as an appetizer, and then I think they usually opted for steaks, but I wonder about keeping the seafood theme and looking at the fish options.”
I said, “That sounds delicious to me.” I paused, looked at the menu for a moment, and then simply stared across the table at Alex. He was engrossed in reading, and I’m not sure he even noticed. I reached down for my water glass to help break my intense concentration on Alex.
A moment later he looked up and asked, “Do you remember the old Sparkling Jewel Amusement Park that used to be perched on the bluff above the old bridge? It was such a fun, exciting place.”
I was perplexed at first, but then my mind latched on to what I believed he was talking about. My mom spoke to me occas
ionally about an old amusement park that she visited with her parents as a young child. She said that it was already well past its prime then, but it must have been something magnificent twenty years earlier.
I said, “I don’t remember it myself since it was defunct before I was born, but I remember my mom speaking about it.”
Alex said, “Oh, to use an unintended pun, it was a gem, Joel. The rides were the old-fashioned kind, wooden roller coasters and slow-moving ferris wheels.” Then he paused and added the statement, “At least that’s what my grandmother said.”
He looked across the table and I could see the reflection of the candle light flickering in his blue eyes. I wanted to stare at that reflection forever.
The server returned, and he took our orders for a shared shrimp cocktail appetizer and pan-seared fish for our entrees. He complimented our choices and then stepped away from the table.
I steered the conversation in a slightly different direction. I asked, “Have you started your latest book project yet?”
Alex leaned forward and said, “Oh, I guess I haven’t told you yet. I’m writing a love story, but it’s not fiction. It is a true love story for the ages. It’s about two men who loved and shared their lives well before it was socially acceptable to do so in their small town.”
I smiled and said, “That does sound like a fascinating project.” I asked, “Were they famous? Anyone I would know?”
He shook his head. “Not big names. They were successful businessmen in their home town and simply flew under the radar of anyone who might cause them harm.”
I asked, “How did you do research? How did you gather information if they weren’t famous?”
Alex smiled, and his eyes twinkled with the candle flame again when he said, “Let’s just say I had a very personal connection.”
I tilted my head slightly in a questioning pose, but the expression on Alex’s face seemed to indicate there were no more answers to be gained by my line of questioning.
River Town Box Set Page 54