by Kelly Risser
I took my time getting ready, applying makeup and a bit of my favorite perfume. I brushed my hair, contemplating putting it up, but decided to leave it down. When I finished getting ready, I sat back on my bed and tried to concentrate on the latest mystery I was reading. It didn’t work. I stared outside instead. It was pitch black and rain pelted the long wall of windows in my room. About an hour after we got home, the skies went from overcast to ominous gray to pitch black before the clouds broke. It down poured for over twenty minutes, and I wondered how bad the driving conditions were.
The doorbell rang. I waited, holding my breath, until Grandma Mary called, “Meara! Evan’s here to see you!”
I stood, smoothed my shirt, and tucked my hair behind my ear. I didn’t want to seem too anxious. When I came around the corner, he was standing in the living room talking to my mom. He looked fantastic in dark jeans and a bright red polo.
“Hi,” I said. I hated the way my voice sounded all breathy and weak, but Evan didn’t seem to mind.
His smile just widened. “Hi yourself.”
It was about then that I realized we had three sets of eyes on us, observing our every move and every word. They were wearing identical “I-told-you-she’d-go-for-him” expressions, too.
“Do you have a raincoat?” Evan asked.
“Um, no.” I thought of my windbreaker. It would be drenched in two minutes in this weather.
Evan held out a purple and turquoise raincoat. “It’s Katie’s, so I’m sure it’ll fit.”
I slipped my arms in. “Where’s yours?” I asked.
“By the door. I didn’t want to get the floor wet.”
“How thoughtful,” Grandma Mary said, and I bit my cheek to keep from laughing. Evan went to put his raincoat on. He was right, of course, as there was a puddle of rainwater on the hallway tile beneath it.
“Do you have a mop I can use?” Evan asked.
Grandma Mary waved us off. “I’ll clean it up. You kids have fun. Be safe.”
“I’ll have Meara back at a decent hour,” Evan said.
If anyone replied, I didn’t hear it.
The rain was pouring down in sheets, and I was glad he had my hand. I had no idea how we were going to see to drive anywhere. When we got to the car, Evan dropped my hand, shouting, “Sorry, this is an exception I make to the door opening rule. Get in as fast as you can!”
I maneuvered fast and shut the door, slipping off the hood of the raincoat. The car smelled a bit like salami. “What’s that smell?” I asked.
“Sandwiches,” Evan said and grinned. “It’s too crappy outside to drive anywhere far, so I thought I’d bring the date to you. Let’s drive to the lighthouse. It’s close, and we’ll get a little privacy.”
My heartbeat picked up considerably when he mentioned privacy. What did he have planned for the evening? He was cute and all, but I barely knew him. If Evan sensed my nervousness, he didn’t say anything. Music played softly, but otherwise the drive was quiet. Visibility was poor. I didn’t want to distract him.
When we reached the small parking lot of the lighthouse, Evan shut off the car. The rain pelted the roof of the car. The parking lot lights revealed we were the only car there. Go figure.
“You’re right about the privacy part,” I commented. Evan grinned and reached into the backseat, pulling out a bag of chips, two subs, and a couple of Cokes. He handed them to me, then he leaned behind my seat and picked up a small, black case. Evan winked as he unzipped it, and I realized what it was. “We’re going to watch a movie in your car?”
Evan frowned. “That’s okay, right?”
“Sure,” I said. “What are we seeing?”
“Goonies. I hope you don’t mind. I have a thing for old movies.”
“I love that one!” It was one of mom’s favorites, so we watched it often when I was growing up. The food was in my lap. Evan took one of the sandwiches and nodded to the other.
“They’re the same. I didn’t know what you like, so I just got ham and turkey.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “Thanks.” I unwrapped my sandwich and bit in. Evan did the same. He opened the bag of chips and laid it on the seat between us. We watched the movie and laughed at the same parts. The windows steamed up, and the rain pelted down. It was the most crazy, romantic date ever.
The rain began to let up just as the movie ended. Evan drove back to my grandparents’ house and parked. With the dome light on, I helped him gather all the empty wrappers. Between us, we had polished off the chips.
“It’s nice to see a girl with an appetite,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes. “You ate most of them.”
He reached for a strand of my hair, twirling it on his finger. “I had a good time.”
“Me, too.” My voice sounded quiet and a bit shaky. Was he going to kiss me? Should I say something else? Just as I was about to spout something stupid out of nervousness, Evan leaned across the seat and kissed me. It was light and fast. His lips tasted salty, like the chips.
“Is it too much to ask to see you again tomorrow? I know it’s Sunday, and I have to work, but only a half day. I can come by after, if that’s okay.”
I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. “I’d like that,” I finally managed to croak.
He slid his hand along my hair once last time, and then he reached over me to open my door. “Goodnight, Meara.”
“Night, Evan.”
The rain continued to fall, though softer now. I was about to shut the door, when I remembered Katie’s raincoat. I went to shrug it off, but Evan shook his head.
“Keep it. She’s got about three more. You’ll need it. Rains a lot in these parts.”
“Then I’ll look forward to more movie nights.”
I heard his laughter as I shut the door. I couldn’t believe I just said that! But he did already ask me out on another date. Living in Canada wasn’t turning out to be such a bad thing. Nope, not at all.
Mom was curled up on the couch when I came in. She opened her eyes, blinked twice, and stretched. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. We did.” Hanging the coat in the hall, I joined her on the couch. I snuggled up and rested my head on her shoulder. She smelled like her usual shampoo and gardenias. It reminded me of so many similar moments that I felt myself relax.
“So?”
“We drove to the lighthouse and watched a movie in the car.”
Mom sat up a bit and looked at me. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s interesting.”
“It was fun.”
She gave me a quick hug. “Do you like it here?”
“It’s not bad.”
“I’m not a horrible mother for bringing you here?”
I laughed at the voice she used. It was the voice she used for the Big Bad Wolf and all the other villains in my childhood books. “No, you’re not a bad mother.”
She gently pushed me up and turned to face me on the couch. She looked almost sad, certainly serious
“I start my cancer treatments on Monday,” she said. “In Halifax. Would you mind driving me?”
“Of course, Mom.”
“We’ll be there for a few hours.”
“No problem. I’ll bring a book and my laptop.”
“Thanks, honey.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek and stood up. “I’m going to bed. It’s pretty late.”
“What time?” I asked. When she looked at me blankly, I added. “Monday. What time do we need to leave?”
“Probably about nine.”
“Ok. Night, Mom.”