For Money or Mayhem

{10} Date Night

Even though short, it had been an intense day and I was exhausted. I stumbled into my apartment, stripped off my clothes and a moment before I went to sleep, followed Darlene’s advice and set an alarm. Two hours later it woke me as though I hadn’t slept at all.

I stepped into the shower and for good measure shaved again, though my beard can go two days without being noticed. I felt revived and set off at a brisk pace up the hill to the faculty lounge. I nearly tripped over the leash stretched across the sidewalk. The little shih tzu squeaked and, as I came to a precarious stop, began to dance around me. Attached to the other end of the leash was a cute blonde in a yellow sweater and form-emphasizing black leggings. Her high-heeled boots stopped just above the ankle and her smile lit up the block.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see the leash.”

“They said a dog would help me meet people,” She laughed and reached down to pick up the little dog. “I wasn’t planning the rope and hogtie method, though. Really, I just got her and we haven’t learned to stay together and not block the sidewalk. It’s me who should be apologizing.”

I smiled back at her. I had seen her in the neighborhood before, but it seemed only recently.

“Are you new in the neighborhood?” I asked politely.

“Just a month. I moved over here especially because it’s a pet-friendly neighborhood. I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“Well, you almost got one there,” I joked. “You are right, though. There are lots of animal-lovers in the neighborhood. Hang out outside the Analog on Sundays and you’ll see lots of them.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll try that. Will I see you?”

“I like the coffee but my building doesn’t allow dogs. Have a nice evening.”

“Ta-ta. See you around.”

Get it together, Dag. She wasn’t flirting. She did have the right idea, though. Pets in this neighborhood were magnets. Two people walking dogs meet and if the dogs like each other, the people become a couple. It’s unbelievable.

When I moved into the neighborhood a few years ago, Eric tried to convince me to get a pet. Then I met his cats. Two three-legged cats. It was my official introduction to pet-crazy Capitol Hill. Every time I saw the poor things, though, I thought about Velcroing them together.

I finally got up to the Blue Bastion and realized I was huffing. I was obviously not getting enough exercise. You’re getting old, Dag. I stood around outside waiting for my heart to get back to normal. I spotted Andi at the table with our crew and my heart sped up again. We’d known each other how long? Six years? Almost seven? It must be the fact that I turned down two sure dates and one open flirtation to spend the evening with her and two seventeen-year-olds that was making my body react this way. Maybe I did need to get a pet.

Jan’s wife Donna had joined the group this evening. Donna works in a real estate office, but she makes it a practice to ‘hang with the intelligentsia’ at least once a month. Lisa was there, of course, and so was Sara Gates, a musician who teaches music theory at PCAD during the week and plays in a Celtic fiddle band on weekends. Her boyfriend, Sandy tends bar during the week at a nearby watering hole and joins her in the band on the weekends if he isn’t pressured into working. I recognized Laura Hersey sitting next to Andi. Laura is another English prof but seldom joins us for the lounge.

Laura greeted me first and stood to kiss me on each cheek. She’d spent the summer in Italy two years ago and hadn’t stopped kissing people since.

“Dag! I heard you weren’t teaching this year. They still let you come to the faculty lounge?” she asked.

“We grandfathered him in,” Jan said. “There’s still a chance he’ll come back to teaching.”

“Not a very big chance, I’m afraid,” I answered. “Haven’t you heard? I’ve got a day job now.”

“You had a day job when you started teaching if I recall,” Andi smiled. “That didn’t stop you from getting a job at the college. Or from dating your students.” The smile turned to a smirk. Everyone at the table knew the story of Hope’s and my romance and its disastrous conclusion. What most of them didn’t know was that I’d ended up putting her new husband behind bars and that she was now living in Costa Rica.

“I know, I know,” I said. “I learned my lesson. Never date a person less than half your age…”

“Plus seven,” they joined in.

“So, tonight I’m going out with two women,” I added.

“Two?” Andi asked. “There are supposed to be three of us.”

“Yes, but I have to add Cali and Mel together in order to get them over 30!”

“So, are you two seeing each other now?” Laura asked. Andi blushed a little. Damn! Maybe I did, too. We stumbled over each other explaining how I’d rescued the girls on Wednesday and they insisted on taking me to the movies tonight. Then we got involved in a lengthy discussion of the indie film we were seeing tonight and the upcoming Seattle International Film Festival line-up. We laughed and talked while we ate our burgers.

“Spring is here,” Andi declared at last. “Let’s have a barbecue tomorrow. We can commandeer my front yard for the grill and spread out into the park across the street. Can you all make it?” There was general agreement and by the time we had compiled the guest list and who was inviting whom and who was bringing what, it was time to catch our ride to the theater. Melissa pulled up in front of the Blue Bastion at exactly seven with Cali in the seat beside her.

“Cali, let Dag have the front seat. His legs are longer,” Andi said as she opened the back door.

“That’s okay,” I said. “It’s only a few blocks. We could have walked it. I can ride in back for that distance. Besides, I’m sure Mel wants to pay me back for folding her up in the back seat of the Mustang.”

“It was great,” Mel gushed. “I couldn’t believe you had the top down. Everybody at school was so jealous.”

“Mel kept trying to tell everyone that you were her boyfriend.”

“Oh no!” I said in mock horror.

“Yeah. When that didn’t work, I told them you were really Cali’s long lost daddy and you’d come to spoil her senseless.”

“Mel, you didn’t!” Andi and Cali exclaimed at the same time.

“Just kidding,” she sang. It really was only a few blocks to the theater and Mel pulled up outside. “I’ll drop you guys off and go find a parking spot.”

“Yeah. Here’s your tickets. You don’t have to wait for us to go in. We’ll be there in a jiff,” Cali said handing the tickets to her mother as I held the door open for her. They waved as they pulled away from the curb and turned down Broadway.

“I guess they don’t want to be seen with the adults,” Andi said as we went inside. I bought a bucket of popcorn but we both decided to forgo the massively overpriced drinks. If I drank one of their large sodas, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the movie. Speaking of which, I gave Andi the popcorn and excused myself to go use the restroom.

When I got back, I found Andi with her cell phone in hand staring at the screen. That reminded me to silence mine, which I did as I sat down. Andi continued to look at the screen and then turned sharply toward me.

“We’ve been set up.” She showed me the text message on her phone.

“Mom, we’re going to see Mad Men at the Neptune. We’ll see you at McHenry’s for pizza after the show. Enjoy your date!”

“Oh,” I said. What could I say? Oh, gee! Let’s leave? I don’t want to date you? We’d met for lunches before. We hung out together with our friends. Why should this be any different? “What do you want to do?” I asked. She snapped her phone off muttering that she’d deal with her daughter later. Then she turned to look me square in the eyes.

“I haven’t been on a date in ages,” she said, smiling. She reached over and took my hand, holding it firmly in her own. “I’m going to enjoy myself.”

That sounded like a really good plan to me.

The movie was enjoyable. It was about what you’d expect eight to twelve-year-old superheroes to come up with—belching toxic gas and walking on their hands. And for just an instant—when most needed—their pretend superpowers became real. It was sweet, innocent, and a really good date movie. After the movie we walked over to McHenry’s and found a quiet table for four. We ordered a small pizza and a couple of cokes. We figured we’d let the girls order their own when they got there. Andi and I had been laughing about the movie ever since we left the theater and talking about how literature, movies, music, and art didn’t have to be great to be enjoyed.

“So what’s your superpower, Dag Hamar?” she asked me. Now I was on the spot. I could code a cyberattack in under two hours? No. I needed something just ridiculous enough that it fit with the movie, but still be something that I could actually do. Now the Navy had taught me one trick my shipmates had said always got the girls’ attention in bars. I practiced until I could do it. Then I tried it out. The results were unspectacular, but it was all I had to go with.

“I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue,” I answered with a straight face. I could see her face fall. I was afraid it was too coarse.

“Oh?” A long pause. Her eyes got wide. “Oh!”

“Now, Ms. Marx,” I pressed before she could question me further. “What is your superpower?” I could see the wheels turning in her head.

“Hmm. I can swim two lengths of the pool underwater.” I did some quick calculations.

“That would mean you can hold your breath for…”

“A little less than two minutes—while exercising.”

“Oh?” It was my turn to be taken aback. “Oh!”

Had we just inadvertently changed our relationship? All these years we’d been friends, I’d never felt there was anything I couldn’t talk to Andi about. I’d been a wreck when Hope left me and Andi was both sage and comforter. She’d told me about hard problems she had as a single parent and I’d listened and given support—even babysitting when Cali was younger. We’d each come through our various crises intact. Our friendship had continued to get stronger. We’d teased each other, but we’d never crossed the line into openly flirting. They say that love, like murder, requires means, motive, and opportunity. Since I’d known Andi, there’d never been a time when all three of those came together. Until…

“Where are those girls?” Andi said suddenly. She pulled her cell phone out. “I didn’t turn my phone on after the movie.” As soon as the phone came to life, it chimed with a text message. She read it and smiled. “Little minx,” she whispered. She held the phone out for me to see the message.

“Mom, I’ve got really bad cramps so I had Mel drop me off at home. Don’t hurry. I’m fine. Hope you enjoy your date.”

“I am, you know.” she said as we left the restaurant and started the walk down the hill toward our homes.

“Am what?”

“Enjoying my date.” She slipped her hand back into mine and reached across with her other hand to hold my upper arm while she hugged herself close to me.

“Are you cold?” I asked.

“It’s a little brisk,” she confessed. I extracted my arm, pulled my jacket off and wrapped it around her. Then I took her hand in my left and wrapped my other arm around her shoulders. She reached up to hold the hand on her shoulder and we walked on in a promenade. Unless you are dancing, that particular position means that you move slowly. That was just fine for both of us.

A kiss is really a simple thing. The popular movie kiss is all tongues fighting with each other. But a kiss isn’t about the tongue. It’s the lips—soft, warm, welcoming lips that hold you with no more effort than the lightest touch. The tongue might convey passion, but the lips reveal true emotion.

We stood on her front porch like two teenagers experiencing a kiss for the first time—neither of us willing to break the contact, but softly caressing the mouth of a new love, wrapped up in the sensation of some ten thousand nerve endings making contact with each other for the first time.

We looked into each other’s eyes as we touched our lips together, neither of us certain how the other would respond. I watched Andi’s eyelids slowly drift closed and then felt the tip of her tongue caress every one of those nerves. Our tongues touched and then darted back into our own mouths, leaving our lips together for another brief eternity.

She pulled away, slowly, then handed me my jacket. I’d forgotten I’d worn one. She sighed and then she whispered, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I said. I backed up off her porch and crossed the postage stamp yard to the alley where I mounted the back stairs to the third floor. I savored her kiss, a smile still on my lips where hers had so recently played. I turned and looked back down from the third floor landing before I went into the building. Andi was still standing there looking up at me, smiling. We stood a moment, connected by our eyes and then she waved and went into her house.

I stood there lost in thought; my hand lifted toward where she’d been. I turned and unlocked the door. I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror as I hung up my coat. I’d almost become used to the naked face now, but I hadn’t seen that silly grin on it since I was a teenager.

I was falling in love.

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