by Julie Allan
When Friday afternoon came, Lizzie went home early to spend a little time with Lucky and Ella and Aunt Dorothy of course, and then she indulged in a bubble bath and gave herself a pedicure in anticipation for her first date in almost eight years. She carefully selected a peach silk dress and paired a thin gold belt with it and again her go to braided gold sandals. She would have chosen heels but she couldn’t quite remember how tall Tom was and did not want to tower over him. How crazy was it that she was going on a date with a complete stranger! Mark had been a stranger when they met at the college library, and we all know how well that turned out, she thought. Before Mark had been Bennett; she had known him since preschool, she couldn’t even remember being nervous with him. Well, maybe the first time they kissed.
As she applied her make up her nerves ramped up and she found herself worrying about the possibility of a goodnight kiss as she selected a soft and sheer pink shade of lipstick. Lizzie transferred her essentials into a small woven straw clutch and went to kiss Aunt Dorothy on the cheek.
“Don’t worry child. I’ll wait up for you and we can have some ice cream so you can tell me all about this young man. I have butterscotch swirl,” Aunt Dorothy said as she smiled up at Lizzie.
“Well, if I’m home early it will tell you it was a first and final date, and if I am home on the later side, you will know it was promising,” Lizzie laughed trying to hide her nervousness.
She headed out into the early evening traffic and found a parking spot in a nearby garage a few blocks from the wine bar. She had forgotten how charming downtown Charleston can be and marveled at the changes, the growth that had transpired on King Street since she had left home. Tom was walking, or you could really call it pacing, up and down the sidewalk in front of the entrance and when Lizzie approached she could see beads of sweat clinging to his forehead just above his eyebrows. Apparently, I am not the only one who’s nervous, Lizzie thought, and was comforted by the observation.
Tom smiled when he saw her approach and wiped his hands on his khaki’s, then tentatively leaned in to give her an awkward and stiff hug hello. Well, he dressed like a local Lizzie thought as she made further observation, noting his button down oxford and his sunglasses dangling on his chest by the colorful Croakies so popular among the lowcountry male population, although some points off for sporting the Carolina Gamecock motif as Lizzie had been raised in a Clemson Tiger household. Not enough to declare it would not work, she would give him a chance. After all many of her friends were in successful mixed marriages, which is what people called the unions between Carolina and Clemson households.
The hostess seated them at a table by the window and explained how the tapas menu worked and asked for their drink orders.
“I’d like a glass of Malbec, Argentinean if you have it,” Lizzie replied.
“I’ll take coffee,” Tom said.
As the waitress turned away to fetch the drink order and give them time to look over the menu, Lizzie teased Tom by saying, “Coffee, really I would have thought you were the type who could leave your work at the office.”
Tom looked very uncomfortable and gave a weak laugh, “Well you know workaholic and all.”
The waitress returned with the coffee and the Malbec and took their food orders. They picked an assortment of small plates to share. Lizzie was looking forward to the pear slices with manchengo cheese and honey the most. She told Tom how jealous she was that her Aunt Dorothy was going to get to taste food all over the globe. He shared how he had traveled extensively in South America for surfing and had learned to eat a lot of new things on his adventures. Lizzie noted Tom’s hand was shaking as he tried to raise his cup to his lips and he had to use his other hand to steady himself. He stared at Lizzie’s wine over the rim of his cup like a red tailed hawk getting ready to swoop in on his prey.
“Are you alright?” Lizzie asked as she began to bring the wineglass to her lips.
Tom sat down his cup on the saucer with such a clatter it drew the attention of the couple at the next table. “I wasn’t going to tell you this so soon but I’m actually a recovering alcoholic,” Tom admitted reluctantly.
Lizzie took a moment to weigh her response carefully; her choice of words would make or break this date. She pulled her wine glass a little closer to her and looked him in the eye and said with a nervous laugh, “Well, I guess my suggestion for a wine bar was not the way to go.”
Tom seemed to visibly relax that she took it so easily and maybe in hindsight relaxed a little too much as he began to tell her the tale of how he became an alcoholic and how he struggled with his demons on a daily basis. Lizzie grew more and more uncomfortable as she tried to nonchalantly sip on her wine. She tried to imagine being able to enjoy a drink in his company and knew this was going to be a big problem.
They made an awkward attempt at conversation. Lizzie asked about his people, but apparently he came from a family with alcohol and substance abuse issues, so that just added to the awkwardness.
Lizzie told him a little about her soon to be ex-husband, but that was just a downer on the evening. Finally they stumbled on the fact that they both enjoyed watching and reading mysteries. They both had enjoyed the PBS series Sherlock, which set the world renowned detective in modern times. When they had exhausted that topic they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
The wine bar began filling up with more patrons and the alcohol was flowing all around them. Before Lizzie could protest, the waitress brought a fresh glass of wine and then whisked off to another table. Where is the food? Lizzie wondered as they continued to sit in awkward silence. Lizzie got the feeling ice cream with Aunt Dorothy was going to be quite early.
While Lizzie contemplated how to graciously extract herself from this disastrous date, note to self: always have an escape plan, she glanced over at Tom and got the sense he would end it, before she could come up with a plan. She did not have to wait long for it to play out.
Tom nervously glanced around the room registering all the drinks in his sight like the pictures that line up in the slot machine windows in Vegas. He nervously tapped the table with his fingers and his leg was jiggling up and down. The sweat now cascaded down his face, dripping from his nose. His hands were trembling and Lizzie thought at any minute he was going to crawl out of his skin or go into cardiac arrest. That would be something, a date ending with an exit provided by EMS.
Then suddenly he swooped his hand across the table and grabbed up the new glass of wine and before Lizzie could even say stop, he had guzzled it down, the wine seeping out and down his chin and on to the front of his shirt. He looked across the table at her, his eyes wild and crazed as if they were not really seeing her. This time he attracted the attention of most of the tables around him as he let out a primal scream and leapt out and ran out the door heading for the bar across the street.
Lizzie, with as much dignity as she could muster, as the whole place was now staring at her, weakly said, “Check please.” It was all she could do to hold her head up high and walk back to her car as if nothing had happened. She considered going after him to see if she could help, but realized she would probably make things worse.
Once she was back in her vehicle she called M.A. “You are not going to believe what happened,” she started. By the time she had told the whole story to M.A., M.A. had laughed so hard she had to put down the phone several times before she could regain her composure.
Thirty minutes later when she arrived home Aunt Dorothy said, “Guess this one is not a keeper. I’ll get the ice cream.”
Aunt Dorothy could not keep a straight face as Lizzie spilled the details. “Oh, I do hope he is alright ... It’s a shame to be so young and already have such a cross to bear,” she said when Lizzie had finished.
“I’m beginning to think I just attract the wrong kind of man,” Lizzie confessed.
“No, child, I don’t think that’s it. I think you expect the better
of people and sometimes don’t see beyond the surface, but in this situation I think you met a nice young man who was trying to turn his life around, but unfortunately wasn’t there yet,” Aunt Dorothy reassured her.
Lizzie sighed and rested her forehead on the table. “I think this calls for a second bowl,” Lizzie mumbled.
Aunt Dorothy patted her head and said, “I’ll get the carton.”
Chapter Ten
“Well, I must say, Lizzie, this place is looking impressive,” declared M.A. as she took in the almost finished space of The Biscuit Box.
“Thanks!” said Lizzie “I have been working day and night and we are only ten days away from the grand opening. Here, look over the menu. It will change seasonally and I will have a weekly special also.”
M.A. looked over the menu and her stomach began growling. “I guess that means you like it,” laughed Lizzie.
“Yes, I want one of everything! I don’t know if I can wait ten days!” M.A. replied.
“You will only need to wait eight days, as you are on the friends and family trial run lunch service. I hope you can be back here from Virginia then,” Lizzie answered.
“I should be able to. Jim is already here living with his parents as his new job has started. I did my final shift at the hospital last week and to keep the house ready for showings the girls are here too, bouncing back and forth between the grandparents. So I don’t intend to go back to Richmond until the house sells and I need to get it all packed up. Before we head out for dinner tell me more of the setup here,” M.A. requested as she looked over the shelves of local products and cookbooks.
“Well, besides serving brunch and lunch at the tables, there is a menu to order take home and bake casseroles, tomato pies etc. and of course pick up to go biscuit boxes with flavored butters and jams. There is the shopping section you’re looking at featuring all kinds of regional products, grits, Carolina rice, tea, pickles, etc. Some of the products won’t be here until the end of the week. I can put together gift baskets with the products and my food made right here in the kitchen. Also, I have a menu of classes for kids and adults that will be on Saturdays through the fall,” Lizzie explained.
“How are you going to manage all this? Are you going to work twenty-four-seven?” asked M.A.
“Well, initially I will have to work a lot, but I have hired two trained cooks from the community college’s culinary arts program and I have some part-time servers/ shopkeepers. One of them is Laura Collins, who I baby sat back in the day,” Lizzie answered.
“Wow, Laura is old enough to have a job? I guess that makes sense since we are old enough to be parents and employers,” M.A. commented. “Let’s head out and get dinner, I can’t get my tummy to stop rumbling,” she added.
“Okay, let me lock up and we need to run by the house real quick to take the dogs out and change. I’m a little grungy,” Lizzie replied. While Lizzie changed, M.A. took the dogs out back with Aunt Dorothy.
“No conspiring against me!” Lizzie hollered as she headed up the stairs.”
“Conspiring? Who us? We promise to only trade notes on your progress,” M.A, hollered after her.
Thirty minutes later the two friends sat sharing a platter of boiled shrimp and knocking back some beers. “Thanks for agreeing to eat out, rather than our original plan for me to cook back at the house. My work hours are a little out of hand right now,” Lizzie said.
“No worries, you know I always like hanging out at Reds on Shem Creek,” answered M.A. The two sat out next to the dock in view of the shrimp boats that lined the creek. Lizzie had just arranged for one of the local shrimpers to be her supplier. The sky was painted with swirls of red, orange and pink as the day slipped into evening and all around a mix of locals and tourists enjoyed the break in the heat as the sea breeze stirred up.
“So, how is the house hunting going?” Lizzie asked. “Well, we saw a charmer in Darrell Creek. It had nice wide porches like Aunt Dorothy’s house, and inside it had the more modern open plan. I really wanted to put in an offer, but Jim is nervous about the risk of having two mortgages. He thinks we need to wait until the Richmond house sells, but I’m worried we will lose out,” M.A. explained.
“I still can’t believe Mount Pleasant now reaches that far up Highway 17 or that the new high school up that way is so huge!” Lizzie commented.
“It is a little surreal, but I love the idea of the girls attending our high school, even if it is a different building,” said M.A. “Now, I know your first attempt to get back into romance was a little rocky,” M.A. began.
“A little rocky! Let’s call it a complete failure such as it was. I was humiliated sitting in that bar and I was horrified for Tom. I felt like I literally pushed him off the wagon! Did I tell you a replacement rep showed up at The Biscuit Box and informed me Tom had gone away on an ‘extended vacation,’ code for off to rehab I am sure.” Lizzie raised both of her hands, palms upward.
“Well, I don’t know if you can call it a complete failure. After all you took a chance, you went through the motions, and I think it is time to try again. You know, before you let your experience get the better of you.” M.A. pulled off a shrimp’s shell like a pro.
“And where am I going to meet anyone if I am up to my eyeballs in opening this business?” Lizzie dipped a shrimp into cocktail sauce.
“I have a plan for that, and I won’t take no for an answer. Jim has a college buddy, a guy named Coleman Reed who went to the Citadel with him. They were not best buds or anything, but Jim ran into him when he was switching our car registrations back to SC and he thought he would be a good match for you,” M.A. explained.
“Why, pray tell, would Jim think this guy is a good match for me?” Lizzie pushed the platter, now piled high with shells over to where the waitress could easily retrieve it.
“Well, for starters he is down to earth, not stuffy, he was very active back in the day, running, tennis and I believe he has two golden retrievers just like you. To make it a little less stressful, we thought we could double, just some friends meeting for drinks. What do you say?” M.A. looked hopeful and Lizzie found that as usual it was too hard to say no to M.A.
“What do I have to lose?” Lizzie answered. At least she didn’t try to push me at Bennett again.
“Great, Jim will set it up and we can go from there.” M.A. drained her beer and smiled.
The two friends sat, staring out at the creek. They ordered more shrimp and beer and sat for another hour as the sun slowly slid down and the summer night air blanketed them. As they sat, they talked about the kids, M.A.’s possible new house, Aunt Dorothy’s impending trip and Lizzie’s impatience with the divorce process. She did enjoy telling M.A. that Mr. Lee had sent a formal letter to Mark about the issue with the mail, and since then, an envelope full of mail had been sent to her.
“So what did you and Aunt Dorothy discuss in the yard?” Lizzie’s curiosity finally getting the best of her. “Well ... she is tickled pink about The Biscuit Box. She wishes you would come to your senses about Bennett and she worries about you being alone while she is off gallivanting around the world,” M.A. told her.
“And what did you add to that?” Lizzie asked.
“I said, ditto, ditto, ditto and then I promised to look after you,” M.A, laughed.
“Well, at least you want good and not evil for me. I think you two are a force to be reckoned with,” Lizzie said, taking it all in stride.
After the friends parted ways, M.A. went home to get Jim moving on the date with Coleman and Lizzie, feeling restless, headed back over to The Biscuit Box to do a little bit more work, calling Aunt Dorothy of course so she would not worry.
Lizzie unlocked the back door and turned on the kitchen lights. She decided she would make up a batch of benne wafers to drop by Mr. Smith’s office since he had pushed through the last of the permits and she wanted to thank him. She grabbed
an apron from the hooks along the wall by her office and tied it on. She went to the fridge and pulled out the long log of dough that had been chilling. She set the oven to preheat and began to slice coin sized wafers and placed them on a Silpat lined baking sheet. She would need to take some home to Aunt Dorothy as well; she adored having benne wafers and tea in the afternoon. She was working along rhythmically when the hair on her neck stood up and she felt her heart beat fast as she heard the sound of the front door of the store open.
It was dark in the front of the store. She had come in through the back. Yes, she heard steps that seemed to move cautiously on the floor coming towards the kitchen. Lizzie looked around in panic and grabbed the cast iron pan sitting on the counter. She crept towards the door taking care to angle herself behind it, her back to a storage shelving unit. Suddenly the door swung open and Lizzie simultaneously lifted the pan overhead, underestimating its weight and instead of swinging it towards the intruder, the pan pulled her back, knocking into the shelving unit behind her. A plastic bin pitched off the shelf and showered Lizzie head to toe in fluffy white flour.
Stunned, both she and the intruder stared at each other and then the intruder burst out laughing, “Lizzie, what the hell ...”
“Don’t you what the hell me! Bennett what are you doing here? You about gave me a heart attack!”
“I was down the street when the security company alerted me the silent alarm had been triggered, so I used my key and came into check the system. That’s when I saw a light under the kitchen door. Did you forget to enter the code?” Bennett asked.
“Um. Yeah, I came in through the back. I completely forgot I had set the alarm when I left before.” Lizzie looked at Bennett sheepishly. It galled her to no end that once again he was catching her in a less than stellar moment. With all the dignity she could muster she stood up and got the broom and dustpan.
Bennett promptly grabbed them from her, “I’ll sweep, you go get yourself cleaned off,” he said.