Margaret Shafer A First Date

 

The restaurant lot was full for a weeknight. I had to park at the back. Was I late? The clock on the dash of my old Mazda had stopped working long ago. I yanked my purse out from under my heavy school bag and took out my phone. It was 6:58. Two minutes to spare. My husband’s permanently young face beamed up at me from the home screen. Always watching, never there.

“Stop grinning. This is all your fault,” I told his photo. “If you hadn’t died I wouldn’t be doing this.”

Sighing, I put my phone away. I flipped down the visor to put on lipstick, then fluffed my hair and got out. I turned up my coat collar against the cold and hurried to the door.

My date was waiting inside. Apparently, he had sucked in his gut in his profile photo, but his smile was the same. I held out my hand to shake and he held it in both of his warm ones.

“Bill, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Jennie, I’m glad I got you to say yes.”

The hostess led us to a table and handed us menus. Hopefully, we’d order quickly and eat. The half salad I’d wolfed down at lunch hadn’t lasted. Could he hear my stomach growling? Maybe I’d have the pasta. I looked up to see him gaze at me over his menu.

“How was your day?” I asked. “You work for Caterpillar, right? What do you do?”

“I’m on tech support. We’re preparing for a big update. But you don’t want to hear that story.”

“Sure I do. I love hearing what people in other professions do.” I really did, but, after a couple decades of parent-teacher conferences, I could also get someone talking and steer a conversation.

He raised his eyebrows like he was on to me, but he cooperated with a few sentences on how a system bug had led to increased security protocol.

I nodded at appropriate points, but I was barely listening. This date wasn’t the best timing, but during the school year there were no good times, only worse ones. If I could get out of here by 8:00, I could work for a couple of hours before bed. I fought the urge to fidget and reached for my glass to take a sip of water. My smile froze for an instant and I hid my hand under the table. Those marker stains would be hard to get off before Open House tomorrow night.

The conversation lulled. “Tell me about your kids.” I gave him a genuine smile. This was a favorite topic of mine.

Bill gazed up and away, as though he were picturing them. “I have three. Two daughters in college. My son is a senior in high school. He’s living with his mom now, but I’ll have him for a month this summer. It’s been hard since I moved to the Midwest and they’re still out east.”

“That’s rough.”

“Tell me about yours.”

“I have a son in college. My daughter works in HR at a hospital. She’s the one who talked me into trying online dating.” I grimaced.

He chuckled. “My son did the same for me.”

The waiter approached with his pad and pen. “All ready to order?” Then he did a double take. “Mrs. Henriquez?”

I knew that face. “Tyler! I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Just three nights a week. I’m finishing up at the community college. I’ve been saving up to go to Illinois State next year.”

“That’s great! What are you majoring in?”

Tyler’s lips spread in a wide grin. “Elementary education. What else? Somebody inspired me.”

My eyes filled with tears, even while I smiled. I stood and reached up to hug him. “It’s so good to see you. I’m so proud of you.”

He bent a little, hugging me back.

I pulled back to look up at him, patted his arm, and sat down. “I’m sorry,” I said to Bill. “Tyler, this is my new friend, Bill.”

Tyler looked from Bill to me. He cocked his head, tried not to smile, and lost. He knew. I could feel my cheeks heat up.

“Let me take your order.”

When Tyler left, Bill said, “That’s right. You told me you were a teacher. You talk for a while. What’s it like?”

For the first time all day, I relaxed. This I could do. “Well,” I began, “You just met one of the best parts.” DSS

 

Margaret Shafer, of Morton, IL, a teacher and writer, has previous publications and a blog: https://unfoldingfromthefog.wordpress.com/

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