Sarah's Solace

by Sarah's Solace (epub)

  “I have to work tonight,” he said with a look of regret. “But I’m free tomorrow.”

  “Me too.” Surely he was thinking that I had no life.

  “Cool. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow night, though, so how about…brunch.”

  Brunch? I liked the idea. It would be different from the usual.

  “Brunch sounds great. I usually stop by here on Sunday mornings to clean up and rearrange, so I could meet you here.”

  “10:00 sound good?”

  “That’s perfect.”

  “Good, then it’s a date.”

  I bit my lip again. “Let’s not call it a date, though.”

  He looked at me curiously, and he looked a little hurt.

  “Oh no, I didn’t mean…I’m sorry, I just don’t like the word. Too many bad experiences. The word itself makes me nervous.” What was I saying? He would think that I was neurotic.

  He smiled crookedly. “We’ll call it something else then. I know you like things French, so how about we call it a rendezvous?”

  I laughed. “Rendezvous sounds good.”

  “Sounds kind of devious,” he joked with a hint of seduction. “Well, I better get going.” He smiled and stared at me, as if he didn’t want to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me too.”

  He gave me a nod and smiled again as he headed out the door.

  I turned around to see that the gallery was now empty, except for Jessica, who was grinning at me, wanting some details I was sure.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  I couldn’t stop smiling. “The waiter…bartender actually.”

  “Really? You left out how hot he is!”

  I put my hands on my face and shook my head before Jessica joined me on the sofa. “What am I doing? You should be going out with him instead of me.”

  “Believe me, Sarah, the guy was not interested in me. Besides, who cares about the age difference? This is the year 2009. It was never a problem for older men to be with younger women, and now finally more older women are with younger men.”

  “I wonder how old he really is.” I gasped slightly. “What if he’s a teenager?”

  Jessica laughed. “He looks older than that, Sarah. If he’s tending bar, then he’s at least 21.”

  “That’s still a big difference!”

  “So what? First of all, you look 10 years younger than you are. Secondly, would it be such a big deal if I were dating a 40-year-old man?”

  “Not so much.”

  “OK then! Have fun with him and don’t worry about it!”

  “Alright, alright!” I threw my hands up in surrender.

  The next day would be interesting, and I had to admit that I couldn’t wait.

  I spent that evening cleaning my apartment, something I hadn’t concentrated on since I got back in town. I had been more concerned with the gallery. As I cleaned and listened to my music, I thought of nothing but Dylan. Why was I so completely attracted to this guy? Sure he was gorgeous, but it was more than that. It’s like I felt drawn to him. I tried not to think about how young he was, but it did make me nervous when I wondered what people would think. The horrible ‘cougar’ word kept entering my mind. Maybe he was older than I thought, though. He spoke as if he were older.

  I continued to clean as the hours went by. Why was I trying to ensure that my place looked beautiful and spotless? Did I expect us to end up at my place? I shook my head at myself and threw down the rag. I walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Chardonnay, poured a glass, and got comfortable on the sofa. Priscilla quickly jumped on my lap, wanting some needed attention. I sipped on my wine and watched TV until I felt tired enough to go to sleep.

  I woke up just before daylight. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so anxious to get up on a Sunday morning. I had no idea where we were going for brunch, so I didn’t know what to wear. I decided to throw on a tank top and jeans to do my work at the gallery, but I packed a long sundress and sandals to change into. The dress should work for either a casual or a fancier place. It was a happy medium. I rushed to get ready, packing make-up and perfume to freshen up with later. Priscilla was rubbing against my legs, not wanting me to leave.

  “I’ll be back later, sweetie. Be good,” I told her as I slipped out the door.

  After arriving at the gallery, I busied myself with housekeeping, rearranging artwork and then working on a new window display. I always liked to keep the look fresh and different. It was my best advertisement, and I took my time to do it well.

  I was on my hands and knees arranging flowers when Dylan arrived. He tapped on the window to get my attention. Was he early or did I lose track of time? I returned his smile and got up to unlock the door, glancing at the clock on my way. He was thirty minutes early. I wish I had changed first. I wondered what I must look like.

  “Good morning,” he said. He handed me a bouquet of daisies. “I brought you some flowers, although I see you have plenty already.”

  “Thank you. That’s so sweet. I could always use more. Come on in.” I locked the door behind him. “Sorry, I’m not quite ready yet.”

  “I can help you with the window.”

  “Oh no, it’s pretty much done. I just meant that I’m not done. I haven’t changed yet.”

  “What do you mean? You look great.”

  He was wearing jeans and a white buttoned-down shirt. I guess I didn’t need to be too dressy, but I still needed to put my sundress on.

  “Thanks, but I’ve been cleaning for the past two hours so…”

  “Take your time. I’ll admire some more of your artwork.”

  I placed the flowers in a vase before I headed to the back room. Dylan wandered around the room slowly. I could tell that he was really interested in the art. He wasn’t just pretending.

  I quickly changed into my dress, wiped my face and applied some fresh make-up and a dab of perfume. I was careful not to overdo it, like I was trying too hard.

  “OK, I’m ready,” I told him. He turned around and smiled at me. My heart skipped a beat every time he looked at me. Why was I so incredibly drawn to this guy?

  “Nice dress,” he said sincerely.

  “Thank you.”

  “Shall we go?”

  “Sure.”

  I locked the door behind us. “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a café I like to go to. It’s just a few blocks away, so we can walk if you’d like.”

  It was a beautiful, sunny morning so I agreed.

  “So how was work last night? Busy again?” I asked as we were walking.

  “Yeah, we were packed again. That’s good, though.”

  “You enjoy bartending?”

  “I do. Mixing drinks is kind of like cooking, and I love to cook.”

  “So do you aspire to be a chef?”

  He chuckled. “Oh no, that’s just a hobby. I study at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. I play the cello,” he said with a grin.

  “Really?”

  “Some people think it’s kind of corny. It’s not as cool as wanting to play for a rock band.”

  “No, I think that’s fascinating! I don’t meet too many people your age interested in that type of music.”

  “My age. Here we go,” he said, smiling as he shook his head.

  “What?”

  “You’re concerned about my age.”

  I bit my lip, realizing my blunder. “Aren’t you curious?”

  “I would guess that you’re a little bit older than me.”

  “I would guess more than a little bit. I know you’re at least 21, though.”

  “Um…yeah, I’m 21.”

  Damn. I was really hoping that he was older. I didn’t know what to say or do next. We both were silent for an awkward moment.

  “Is that a problem?” he asked. “I’m sure you’re under 30.”

  I laughed.

  “Listen, let’s not talk a
bout this anymore right now. I don’t care how old you are. I only want to get to know this beautiful woman I’m with.”

  I smiled and stayed silent.

  We chose a table outside at the café. Dylan was obviously a regular by the way the waitress said hello.

  “What would you like to drink?” he asked me. “They have great Mimosas.”

  “I don’t know. It’s pretty early for that,” I said with a laugh.

  “I don’t drink when I’m working in the evenings, so I splurge sometimes when I can.”

  I threw up my hands. “OK. Why not?”

  “Two Mimosas, please,” he told the waitress.

  “So what were you doing waiting tables that day?” I asked him, teasing him again about our little accident.

  “I was filling in because they were short-handed. They’ll never ask me again I’m sure,” he laughed. “So, where are you from originally? I bet you’re from a small town.”

  “I am. Willows.”

  He was silent for a moment, as if lost in thought.

  “You OK?” I asked.

  “Oh…yeah. I’m sorry. I imagine it’s a very outdoorsy town. I like that.”

  “So you’re an outdoorsy guy.”

  “I guess you could say that. I love to fish, camp, hike…”

  I was afraid to ask the question, but I did. “Do you like to hunt?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I’ve never wanted to get near that. I know people who hunt, but it’s not my thing.” He laughed. “That doesn’t sound very manly, does it? I can fight, though,” he joked. “I used to box. That’s why my nose is a little crooked.”

  “I didn’t notice,” I assured him.

  “So what are your hobbies, besides art?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I confessed, letting out a deep breath. I didn’t like talking about myself so much. “I like to travel.”

  “You’ve been to France I’ve gathered.”

  “Several times, and I backpacked across Europe when I was younger.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Yeah. I was braver than I am now.”

  “I bet it was amazing.”

  “It was. I’ll never forget it. Have you ever been there?”

  “No. I’ve never been off of the continent.”

  “You should go.”

  “Maybe. There’s so much to see here, though.”

  “That’s true.”

  Our brunch was delicious. We had ham, bagels, fruit, and I had another Mimosa. I was beginning to feel pretty tipsy. The alcohol sparked my next question.

  “So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I asked him.

  “No. I wouldn’t be out with you if I did. Well, actually I would still be out with you, and I would be dumping her.”

  I shook my head, smiling. “I bet a lot of young girls would like to be with you.”

  “Most of them don’t know what they want.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “I’ve really enjoyed this. Thanks,” I told him.

  “You act like our rendezvous is over.”

  “What would you like to do?”

  “Anything. It’s a gorgeous day, and I want to spend more time with you. We could walk some more for starters.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have worn my wedge sandals today,” I explained regretfully.

  “You won’t need them where I want to walk.”

  I looked at him questionably.

  “Come on,” he said with his sexy grin as he held out his hand for mine.

  My pulse quickened again as I placed my hand in his. It was like a current ran through my body when I touched him, and it almost made me jump. He smiled and gave my palm a squeeze, as if it felt natural to him. I already knew I didn’t want the day to end.

  He took me for a walk on the beach. The wind was actually a little chilly on my bare shoulders with my sundress, but luckily I had a big scarf that I used as a shawl. I tied it around me so I could hold up my dress and carry my sandals with my right hand while Dylan held my left. I felt like a teenager again holding his hand, that feeling of warmth and anticipation that sent an electric charge through my body.

  The beach was pretty busy, but we enjoyed our people watching, joking about some of the adults and enjoying watching the children play and build sand castles. I looked over at Dylan constantly. He had an aura about him that I couldn’t explain, and he seemed to be so mature, yet he still looked young and adorable, especially with his rolled up jeans and bare feet.

  “So, what was it like growing up in Willows?” he asked me.

  It was not a subject I wanted to discuss, and my demeanor immediately changed. “Willows is a great place to grow up.”

  “But I meant, what was it like for you growing up there?”

  “It was perfect, until my sister died.”

  He stopped walking and looked at me, regretting that he brought it up. “Oh no…I’m sorry.”

  “It’s OK. She died when she was 17. I was 15 at the time. It was a car accident. A drunk driver hit her.”

  “I couldn’t imagine,” he said shaking his head. “That’s so much to deal with at a young age. How did you and your parents cope with it?”

  I got quiet, not quite knowing what to say.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about this. We can change the subject,” he told me.

  I smiled in agreement as we started walking again.

  “So how about you? Where are you from originally?” I asked.

  “Born and raised right here in San Francisco.”

  “Well it’s a great place to grow up.”

  “Yep. I’ve always felt that I belonged here.”

  “Any brothers and sisters?”

  “No, just me.”

  “Your parents still together?”

  “Surprisingly, they are. That’s unusual nowadays, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Just then a young kid on his bicycle zoomed past me along the shore, nearly knocking me down and throwing wet sand all over my dress. Dylan broke my fall with his arms.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going!” he yelled after the kid, who was already pretty far past us.

  I only laughed. I was enjoying my time with Dylan too much to get angry about some wet sand.

  “It appears that hanging out with me is hazardous to your attire,” he said.

  “I know,” I teased. “And you never get anything on you!” I spontaneously threw down my sandals and ran to the water, scooping it up and splashing it on him. I did a pretty good job of it too. I could see that his white shirt was soaked and see-through. Not a bad look.

  He was shocked, but laughing. “Oh you’ve really done it now!”

  He chased after me while I ran, laughing and looking behind me. I didn’t see the sand castle that was in front of me, and I tripped over it, falling on my butt. The waves began to wash over me before I could get up, but Dylan was there quickly.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  I was embarrassed, but still laughing. “Yeah, I’m fine. At least I’m not wearing a white dress this time.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said with a grin.

  We retrieved our shoes and headed back to his Range Rover. I was relieved that he had a blanket in his trunk. I wrapped it around me before I got in.

  Dylan immediately turned on the heat once he sat down. He tried not to laugh as he shook his head again. “You poor thing.”

  I laughed back, still shivering. “I’m glad you have a blanket. I’m freezing.”

  He looked at me and smiled slowly. He was wet too, but it didn’t seem to bother him. He looked into my eyes again, making me nervous, yet intoxicated by his stare. He leaned toward me in what seemed like slow motion, gently lifting up my chin with his hand and touching his lips on mine. I wasn’t expecting it, and I wasn’t ready, but it felt right, soft and warm…and perfect. It wasn’t a full-blown kiss, but it wasn’t quick either. It was enough to induce passion, though, and I d
idn’t want to stop. He was the first one to pull away, although reluctantly.

  “I’m much warmer now,” I said breathlessly.

  He smiled again and we drove off.

  I was still in a daze when he dropped me off at the gallery. Initially he was going to take me there to change. We were planning to spend the rest of the day together, but he got a call from his classmate reminding him that he had cello practice. He said he would call me to arrange a lunch ‘rendezvous’. I breathed in his scent that was still on the blanket wrapped around me as I watched him drive away. He smelled delicious.

  35. Enjoying the Moments

  “Your dress got soaked again?” Veronica was rolling with laughter on the phone, and I couldn’t stop laughing myself. I had to call at least one of my friends and tell them all about my romantic rendezvous.

  “Yes! That water was freezing too!” I was still curled up on my sofa with Dylan’s blanket while Priscilla purred and rubbed her face on it.

  “Well, I’m glad you had fun. When are you going to see him again?”

  “We’re supposed to meet for lunch this week.”

  “Cool. He is really hot from what I remember. Have you kissed him yet?”

  “Easy now…”

  “Oh, come on Sarah. You know I always want details!”

  “He did kiss me and….”

  “And?”

  “And it’s been a long time since I’ve been this infatuated with someone. A long time. I mean, you know I loved Johnny, but being with him was never like it was with…”

  “I know.”

  She knew who I was talking about, but I hadn’t spoken his name in 20 years.

  “Anyway, I’m going to try not to get my hopes up, especially with our age difference…”

  “Blah, blah, blah.”

  “OK. Everyone keeps telling me to shut up about that. I’m just going to enjoy the moment then.”

  “Thank you!”

  On Wednesday afternoon, I was beginning to wonder if Dylan and I would ever have our lunch, although he had called me the past two days. He was a busy guy, only getting a chance to call between classes or cello practices, or on his break at Bamberger’s. I was trying to be patient, but I was itching to see him again.