#chapter Forty-One
Madge rapped on Maura’s cubicle and popped her head in. “Hey, you! Just wanted to see if you were going to be around for dinner. I need to put in the catering order before noon.”
The office was having a day-long, intensive corporate training session, and to treat everyone, management was ordering in dinner. That most people would stay for it on a Friday night instead of booking it out of there to get home said a lot about her coworkers, and even a week or so ago, she’d have been one of them. But not tonight.
“Got a date,” she said with small smile, bracing herself for Madge’s response.
It was, typically, over the top. Beaming, Madge whirled into Maura’s cubicle and plopped herself into the chair. “Tell me all about it.”
“It’s not a big deal —”
“Not a big deal? I don’t believe it for a second. Look at you, it’s all over your face!”
Maura laughed, self conscious about the heat flushing her cheeks. She put a hand to cool them. “It’s just…a date.”
“With someone special. Your first date, yes?”
It would be their first official “date.” She’d been trying not to think of it that way. Too much pressure. But now she giggled, giddy, and ducked her head. “Yes.”
“Good for you!” Madge slapped a hand against her thigh and rocked forward. “Is he your George?”
Maura wasn’t quite ready to say yes, superstitious she might jinx it. “I hope so.”
“Me too.” Madge grinned. Then her smile softened. “Sometimes, you have to be ready to take a jump even when you have no idea what’s at the bottom of the pit, you know?”
“I know. Scary.” Maura gave an exaggerated grimace.
Madge stood. “Well, I’ll go put in the catering order, minus one. I hope you have a great time tonight.”
“Me too. Thanks.” Maura waited until Madge had left before she checked her phone for any messages.
There was one. A photo text from him, a picture of a black limousine. Ian hadn’t told her what the date would be, only that she was going to be surprised, every step of the way. Considering that they’d never gone on a date, she had no trouble believing him.
An hour later in the middle of the training session, her phone vibrated again. Another message from Ian, another photo. This time, it was of the front of a flower shop on the other side of town. Her heart leaped, and she grinned so wide it hurt her cheeks. Was he going to bring her flowers?
Corporate training had to be the most boring thing ever to sit through. Add to that her distraction over seeing Ian later, and the hours passed so slowly Maura thought she might go out of her mind. She was supposed to be paying attention to new policies and procedures, but all she could do was wait for the next message from Ian.
Another hour passed, and the next message came during the break. Management had provided doughnuts and coffee, and though Maura’s stomach had started twisting so that even a thickly glazed treat couldn’t tempt her, she grabbed at the coffee like it was a lifeline. She burned her tongue, wincing, and swiped at the screen on her phone.
This picture was a little blurred, off-center, and a bit harder to figure out. A green circle in Ian’s palm. It looked sort of like the kind of air freshener you hang from the rearview mirror. That didn’t make any sense at all. She peered closer, trying to read the text.
“Oh,” she said under her breath with a small, surprised laugh. “Oh, that.”
“Oh what?” Madge asked from beside her. A doughnut in one hand, coffee in the other, Madge looked as happy as a woman could be.
“He’s taking me to that Brazilian steakhouse.”
Madge ooohed. “George took me there once. It was delicious!”
Maura paused. “He knows I like steak.”
“Sounds like he’s really making an effort.” Madge peeked at Maura’s phone. “How much longer?”
Maura looked at the clock. “He’s picking me up at six-thirty at my house.”
That would give her enough time to get ready, provided she left the office promptly at five — and woe to whoever tried to make the training run even a minute longer.
Madge winked. “Good luck!”
The afternoon session was interminable. The man they’d brought in to conduct the training was so enthusiastic he made Maura’s teeth ache. He’d obviously had a lot of experience in motivational speaking, but frankly, policies and procedures relating to new corporate policies were never going to be interesting no matter how many stress-balls and t-shirts you air-cannoned into the audience.
The four-o’clock picture was of a movie poster.
This date, she thought, is going to be out of control.
At quarter to five, Ian sent another picture. This time, a puzzling one, of the sign for a veterinary hospital. With a sense of foreboding, Maura snuck her phone onto her lap so she could reply.
What’s going on?
Rowdy ate some electrical wires and a bunch of other stuff. Had to take him to the dog ER.
How shitty would it be for her to ask him if this was going to change their plans? Pretty shitty, she decided, and tried to focus on what the team manager was saying in the front of the room. Her phone hummed with another message a few minutes later.
We’re going for an x-ray. Shouldn’t make me late, but can we push it back until 7, to be safe?
Sure, she typed quickly. No problem. Hope Rowdy’s ok.
Nothing came through after that, and though the training did run a few minutes later than five, Maura no longer worried as much. She gathered her things and headed for her cubicle to get her coat and purse. Her boss, Angela, stopped her.
“Staying for dinner?”
“No. I have other plans.”
Angela frowned. “Oh? The team thought dinner together would be a great way for us to talk over some last-minute questions about the training.”
“I didn’t sign up for the dinner,” Maura pointed out calmly, knowing it didn’t matter. Angela had obviously gotten a stick up her behind about the dinner for some reason.
“Oh. Well. You know the rest of us are going to be in the break room. Everyone else is staying.”
Maura knew for a fact at least two others from the team weren’t going to stay — Jeff had to get home to his wife and toddler, and Mary needed to get home in time to take her kids to some school activity. But if she pointed that out, it would not only sound like whining, but Angela would be likely to say smugly that Jeff and Mary had excuses because they had families. Instead, Maura smiled blandly.
“Is there something in particular I need to go over with you, Angela?”
“No. I mean, unless you had any specific questions about the training?” Angela paused, then delivered the cut. “You were pretty busy on your phone today.”
The problem with Angela, was that she was a bully. Or tried to be. Maura wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction, but, on cue, her phone buzzed. Angela stared at her as though daring her to answer it.
Maura smiled. “I’m going to head out now. Have a great weekend.”
But when she checked her phone, her stomach sank.
Still waiting for the x-ray. Doc’s concerned about some other things. Still aiming for 7, but I called the restaurant to change our reservation to 7:30 in case.
She typed off a quick reply and finished packing up her stuff. On the bright side, now she’d have time for a luxurious soak in the tub rather than a quick shower. On the downside, her stomach was already rumbling. Waiting an extra hour was going to be tough.
At home, she ran the water and filled the tub with scented oil, then lowered herself into it. She kept her phone by the tub’s edge in case Ian texted her again, but nothing came through. She took her time with pampering herself, even painting her toenails a pretty shade of red. Walking around her bedroom on the balls of her feet with cotton balls between her toes, heavy hot rollers in her hair, Maura felt like every stereotype ever made about a woman getting ready for a date.
At six-thirty, Ian texted. No surgery. Got meds. Will have to bring him back for a followup if it doesn’t get taken care of on its own.
Gross, she thought.
Heading home, Ian typed. Need to drop off Rowdy and make sure he’s ok, and jump in the shower. I’ll be there at 7:30.
No worries, she typed.
She concentrated on getting herself ready, though by now her stomach was eating itself and no matter how much pampering she tried to give herself, it only took her so long to get ready. The extra coat of mascara only took thirty freaking seconds.
Ready with everything but her dress, which she’d put on last minute to keep it from stains and wrinkles, Maura found a package of peanut butter crackers in her pantry. She was only going to eat one, but as soon as she did, every hungry cell in her body gaped open, demanding food. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
She was just slipping into her stockings when her phone buzzed. She didn’t even want to look at it, but the message was simple. Call me.
“I’m driving,” Ian said. “Stuck in traffic on the bridge. Some car flipped over. I won’t be able to get there by seven-thirty, I’m sorry.”
Maura sagged onto the nearby chair and put her face in her hand. “Are you kidding me?”
“I wish. I’m sorry. As soon as I get past this part of the roadblock, it looks like traffic is getting better. And from there it’s only fifteen minutes until I get home. I’ll shower real fast. I promise. And still be there to pick you up. I changed our reservation to eight-thirty.”
She’d expire of hunger before eight-thirty. Already, even with the crackers, she felt a little woozy from low blood sugar. “Maybe we should just…”
“No,” Ian said firmly. “We are not canceling. I had this whole great night planned out, and we’re going to do it. I won’t be too much later, I promise. We can make dinner by eight-thirty and see the ten-forty movie instead of the nine. It’ll be great, Maura. Don’t…don’t give up on me yet.”
“I’m not giving up on you, Ian.”
“Good.”
An hour later, when her phone buzzed again, Maura almost did.
“You’re never going to believe this,” Ian said.
Maura, who’d changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and had been nibbling on pita chips to stave off her meltdown, snorted softly. “Let me guess. You’re going to be late.”
“The limo company didn’t get my message about changing the time. They gave away our ride to a bunch of bachelorettes going to Philly.” Ian paused. “I can come get you in a Hummer, a ’78 Caddy convertible, or a refurbished armored truck.”
“Oh, Ian.”
“It has a disco ball and a full bar inside,” Ian said. “It’ll just take me about twenty minutes for them to get here, and we can head over to pick you up.”
“I don’t need any of that. Just get here. You. Get. Here.”
He laughed. “But I wanted this to be the best date ever…”
“It’s already almost nine o’clock,” she told him. “I don’t care about the limo. Or what you’re wearing. Or flowers. Or —”
“Shit,” Ian said. “Oh, shit. The flowers.”
“Forget the flowers!” Maura cried. “Just get here, Ian!”
“I’ll be there in half an hour,” he promised, and disconnected.
Half an hour? She’d spent hours already on her hair and makeup, and now that he’d be here in half an hour, she felt rushed. Maura flossed and brushed her teeth, freshened her makeup and perfume. Her hair needed a little more work. The curls she’d so painstakingly set were now limp, but she saved them by pulling her hair back from her face and leaving the rest to hang down in an artful tangle. Her clothes were a little easier, since she hadn’t been fully dressed.
The hook on the bra she’d picked out had been mangled in the drier, and the bra wouldn’t close. “Shit!”
Maura dug through her underwear drawer, looking for another bra that matched the lacy panties she’d already picked out — no go. Which meant she had to change her panties, too. With a nervous look at the clock, she pulled out every piece of lingerie she owned, tossing everything onto the bed. Mix and match. How could she have only one set of matching scanties? She’d have to go without the garter belt, she decided. Find a pair of elastic-topped stockings, because there was no way she’d put on pantyhose for this date. With her luck, he’d want to strip her naked in the backseat of that armored car or whatever he arrived in, and she’d have cock-blocked herself with nylon.
She had three pairs of sheer black stay-up stockings. The first pair she tried on had no life left in the elastic, and sagged. She tossed them into the trash. The second pair snagged as she slipped her shoes on, sending a jagged runner up the back of her leg. Since she wasn’t going for the punk rock look, she tossed those, too. Three was a charm and she smoothed them over her legs.
Finally dressed, Maura paced in her living room. Every single nerve in her entire body felt stretched and tense. Every sense, heightened. Colors, brighter. Light-headed with hunger, yet also somewhat nauseous, she sipped at a can of cola even though she knew it would only make her need to go to the bathroom.
Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Thirty interminable minutes dragged by while she wore a hole in her carpet. Her palms sweated and, disgusted and distraught that her deodorant was going to fail her, she opened a window to stand in front of the frigid December air.
On my way, Ian’s text said.
Get here, Maura replied.
Ten minutes later, another ping. Hitting every red light.
She laughed because she wanted to cry. The universe had given her Ian when she couldn’t have him, and then when she could, she’d been convinced she’d lost him. Now, when everything seemed as though they might finally, finally have a chance, here went the universe again, throwing every obstacle in their path.
Just forget it, she started to type. We can meet up another time.
But she didn’t hit send. Five more minutes, she thought. Maybe ten. But no more than that. I won’t wait longer than that.
Ten minutes later, one more message from Ian came through.
I have an idea.
Unless it’s you knocking on my door, she typed back, I think you should just forget it.
Open the door, came the reply.
And there he was.
“Ian,” she said. “Hi.”
She’d imagined herself launching into his arms, covering his face with kisses. She’d pictured them tumbling to her floor in a tangle of arms and legs, clothes flying off, making love with barely a hello passed between them. She’d even thought about slamming the door in his face and telling him to get lost, she wasn’t interested — but that had been only in a moment of pique, never true.
Now they stared at each other awkwardly across her threshold before she stepped aside to let him in. Ian had never been in her house and suddenly, all Maura could see were the flaws. She loved this tiny bungalow, which had fallen into her post-divorce budget and also satisfied her desire for things like built-in bookcases and window seats. But Ian lived in one of those mini-mansions in a new neighborhood with a homeowner’s association and rules about keeping your garage door closed. Now all she could see was the cracked plaster, the lack of furniture she’d left behind and hadn’t yet replaced.
“Hi,” Ian said.
Then he did the perfect thing. He kissed her. Softly, more than a peck but not a lingering, passionate embrace. Just enough to take the edge off their mutual awkwardness. A perfect, first-date kiss.
“I’m starving,” he said.
Maura laughed. “I had to eat a snack so I didn’t pass out. But…yeah.”
“The steak place closes at ten. We’ll never make it.”
“I don’t care where we go,” she told him. “Really.”
The forecast had been calling for snow, but what had started was icy rain. Ian grabbed her elbow to keep her from faceplanting on the icy driveway, but by the time she got in the car, Maura’s hair was a mess. Her dress, soaked from the rain that had trickled in the back of her dress coat, because she’d forgotten to grab a scarf.
“Cold?” Ian asked as he fiddled with controls. “I have heated seats.”
He backed carefully out of the drive, and the car’s wheels spun. There was little traffic on her neighborhood’s streets, which was good because he skidded at the stop sign and stopped only halfway through the intersection. Maura gripped the door handle in automatic reaction, and Ian glanced at her.
“What are you hungry for? We could stop for a quick snack before the movie, then get something more after?”
She wasn’t sure what would be open by that time, especially if they were still aiming for the ten-forty movie, but by now she’d have eaten just about anything to keep herself from passing out. “Sure. There’s that coffee shop just ahead to the left, they’re open late. We could grab a muffin or something.”
“And dinner after.” Ian kept his eyes on the road, but shot her a grin. “Okay?”
The coffee shop sign said open when they pulled up, but as it turned out, they only had what was in the case for sale. And what was in the case was an oozing cheese danish and a crumbly scone. Neither selection looked appealing.
“Umm…popcorn at the movie?” Ian asked. “I’ll even buy you nachos.”
Maura laughed. “Okay.”
“And dinner, after,” Ian promised.
They got to the theater just in time to miss the last seats for the very popular movie he’d intended to take her to see. There was another movie that had started a few minutes earlier — they’d miss the previews, but should be able to make it in time for the movie, itself.
“You go on ahead,” Ian said, “get us some seats. I’ll get the popcorn and drinks.”
The problem with entering a theater already gone dark, Maura realized, was that finding a seat was difficult. In a packed theater on “date night,” it was even harder to find two seats together. The choices seemed to be in the very front row, which would give her neck a strain and probably motion sickness, considering the movie was a sci-fi shoot-em-up. Or, they could take two seats in separate aisles. Opting for the front row, Maura snagged the last two seats and sent Ian a quick text to let him know where to find her.
He made it just as the lights went all the way down. He handed her an enormous bucket of popcorn and a drink big enough to swim in. Maura put the bucket on her lap and the drink in her cup holder, trying to get organized enough so that she could lean back in the chair at the right angle to see the movie without killing herself. She was annoying the woman beside her, and shot an apologetic look, but before she could get fully settled, Ian reached for her hand.
Surprised and pleased, Maura stopped fussing with the food and looked down at their linked fingers. She and Ian had held hands a few times, but not like this. Not casually dating. Palm to palm, fingers entwined, their hands rested on his thigh. Heat flooded her, anticipatory but not quite sexual. They shared a look, grinning.
The movie began, and as she’d expected, the fast-paced action and special effects made it hard to follow while sitting so close. She already had a headache only a real meal would fix, and the movie was making it worse. Ian’s hand in hers made it worthwhile, even as the steady throbbing behind her eyes made it impossible to enjoy the movie itself.
Twenty minutes in, the entire theater went dark. Screams rang out. The emergency exit lights flickered on, but nothing else did.
“Power went out.” Ian leaned to murmur in her ear, sending a shiver through her. “Must be from all the ice.”
Maura would gladly have sat, holding Ian’s hand in the dark, for hours, but theater staff showed up with flashlights and started waving people toward the exits. The power had gone out and the backup generators weren’t kicking in with enough juice to power all ten screens. The uproar was instant and furious — Ian tugged her gently toward the exit without even trying to fight their way to the ticket booth for a refund.
Outside, the icy rain had started to come down at an angle, spanging against the slick ground and off the cars in the parking lot. Ian kept his hand on her the entire time, which was good because just as they reached his car, Maura completely wiped out. She was saved by falling on her face only because she landed on her hands and knees, scraping both and shredding that last pair of stockings. Ian went down too, on one knee, his hand grabbing the door handle, but his pants tore.
He was quiet when they got in the car, waiting for the fogged windows to clear. Then he looked at her. “This is the worst date I’ve ever been on.”
She’d been thinking the same thing herself, and not even the ache and sting of her scrapes could stop her from bursting into tear-edged guffaws. It must’ve concerned him, because he turned to her and gingerly took her hands in his. He kissed her freezing, aching fingers.
“I’m sorry, Maura, I wanted this to be the best, and I totally messed it up.”
“No, honey, it’s all fine,” she assured him, though with tears sliding down her cheeks and her inability to catch her breath properly, she was sure he didn’t believe her.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, miserably.
Maura stretched across the center console to kiss him, though the fact her teeth had started chattering made that difficult. “Ian, I’m freezing, I have an almost blinding headache, and if I don’t get something to eat I’m going to start chewing these leather seats.”
“I promised you dinner. I’m going to make sure you’re fed,” Ian said, determination glinting in his eyes.
The power outage had not only affected the theater, but also the entire chain of stores surrounding it. They drove a block, then another, and even the all-night diner was dark. The roads were horrible, too. When Ian’s car skidded again, Maura turned to him.
“Take me home. I have plenty of food there, and if the power’s out, I can build a fire.”
Stopped at an intersection, Ian looked at her. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said. “Take me home.”