by M. Mabie
Opting out of the more typical date options, I chose to wear jeans, a nice T-shirt, and I grabbed a zip-up hoodie. It was almost May and plenty warm during the day, but the nights could still get kind of cool.
It was only about five by then and I noticed time had slowed considerably, compared to that morning. I kept myself busy by bringing a pair of the Adirondack chairs from the front porch around to the back deck so we could hang out back there—together—while the food was on the grill. I filled the cooler with the ice and beer, chilled the wine in the refrigerator, cut up the vegetables, seasoned every last one, and wrapped them in foil. I put the steaks in the marinade I’d found on the shelf at the market, and then I looked at the clock again.
Only five twenty. Dammit.
I tried to calculate how long it would take me to get to her house, even though I knew it was probably only about two minutes.
Then I had a thought, what if she wanted to stop somewhere on the tour tonight? I quickly went into the living room, pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, and grabbed a few of the throw pillows.
I’d be lying if I denied that just the mere thought of lying on the ground under a sky full of stars—with O’Fallon—didn’t get me halfway hard. Thoughts of her often had that effect on me. I was half-hard half of the day, every day since I’d moved here.
And being around her? Forget it. I was a walking, talking erection.
I threw the blanket and pillows in the back of the Escalade.
But I still had thirty minutes.
I sat out back and decided it was as good of a time as any to have my first beer. If anything, it might calm me down.
From the time I’d woken up, until that minute on the back deck with my first cold Newcastle of the night, I’d been anticipating our date.
Our first date.
Me and … Sarah?
Me and … Allison? Megan? Rebecca?
I said a silent prayer that I’d get it. That some omniscient power would show mercy and it would just suddenly come to me.
The sooner the better.
Then, finally, it was time to go pick her up.
I took off work at noon. I couldn’t focus, and the time was moving about as fast as Highway 106 during harvest. Slow and aggravating.
I’d called Sunny that morning, needing something to wear. Sure, we were just hanging out at his house and then going for a drive, but I didn’t feel like wearing my raggedy old jeans and faded shirts. I wanted to look like a woman who might almost pass for someone Vaughn could be interested in.
He was college educated—and so was I, but an online business degree wasn’t quite the same.
He was a doctor. Best I could describe it, I was the bookkeeper for my grease monkey dad.
I didn’t have many shoes that didn’t have laces. Why in the hell didn’t I own a pair of slip on shoes? Well, I did, but flip-flops weren’t sexy.
I wanted to be sexy, and for him to know I was trying. You know an E for effort?
Mostly, I wanted to know if I was good enough for him. If I’d ever be.
There was something about the way he pushed me out of my comfort zone, yet at the same time made me feel safe and comfortable enough to not push back. No one I’d ever met fostered that type of reaction from me. No one had ever acted like they could see that, maybe deep down, there was more to me than just Mutt. And, if that was true, I wanted to let him find out because then I’d know, too.
I considered texting him my name so he’d kiss me first off that night because then I could chill the fuck out. I’d been a walking ball of electricity all day. Everything I touched seemed to zap me, and I knew the only thing that would give any relief to my nervous system was him.
I needed to kiss him. I wanted to yesterday, but today … it was crucial to my sanity.
“I can’t believe you guys are hanging out. This is huge, Mutt!” shrieked Sunny when I showed up at her house, which sat right behind the radio station.
I’d called her that morning to see if she’d be home since I needed to raid her closet and beg her to help me look like—well, a better version of myself.
I wasn’t ugly. I was okay.
My body wasn’t anything to pin up in a calendar, but I looked healthy. So what if there were a few extra pounds around my hips? As far as I knew there wasn’t a whole lot you could do about that. My stomach was flat and I had boobs. More than I’d ever ask for on most days, but they stayed where I put them, so I wasn’t complaining.
Although she was a little shorter than I was, Sunny and I were luckily about the same size.
“I know. I’m freaking out,” I said in earnest. “He’s so hot.” This was a situation that was completely new. I’d never chased a man before, and even if I wasn’t exactly chasing him, I was trying to catch him. And that was another reason I needed her help.
“I saw him driving the other day, but that’s about it. So what’s he like?” she asked as we walked through her small house into her bedroom, Andy Two hot on our heels.
I plopped down on her unmade bed and covered my face with my hands.
“I don’t know. He’s weird and smart and funny.” Then I moved one of my hands to make eye contact with her, hoping it would help explain better. Then I added, “And he’s sexy as a motherfucker. He told me he wants to kiss me, but he won’t until he knows my first name.”
She threw up her hands and scrunched her eyebrow. “So, Mutt, tell him your fuckin’ name.”
“I know, but now it’s kind of this flirting thing we have going on where he guesses … and his face … and, oh my God, what am I doing?”
She straight up laughed at me. The kind that howled and cackled. The kind where she bent over, and with both hands, she did a drum solo on my ass.
“Mutt likes a guy!” she sang. “This is awesome. Okay, so what’s your plan?”
“What’s my plan? I don’t have a plan. I need something to wear, and I could use some tips on how to hide that I’m a freak for not knowing how to act on a date.”
“Well, you guys have hung out, you said, so just keep acting like yourself. Plus, he’s still guessing your name, so there’s that. Obviously he likes you, too. Although, I have no idea why.” She winked and then opened the doors to her closet.
I had no idea why either. That was another thing that was making me crazy.
“What are you guys doing again?”
“He’s picking me up at six and making me dinner at his house. Then he asked if I could show him around Wynne, like a little road trip around the outside of town.”
“Okay, I think you should wear a dress.” Her eyes lit up.
What in the description of our plans made her think dress?
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re just riding around.”
“Smart. Don’t give it all away on the first date. Keep some mystery.” She tapped her finger against her lips in thought.
“No, that’s not it. I just don’t want to wear one. I think I walk funny in dresses.”
“You walk funny in jeans, your argument is invalid.”
“Whatever. What else?”
“Okay, you can wear jeans, but they need to hug your ass. None of those old Levi’s you wear.” She moved a few hangers around and pulled off a pair of dark blue jeans that looked like they’d only fit around one of my legs.
“Now we need a top. Do you own a strapless bra?”
I didn’t. Why didn’t I have a strapless bra?
“No. I don’t think so.” Disapproving of my obviously shitty inventory of undergarments, she shook her head at me. Then she paused and ran into her bathroom.
“Does this fit your boobs? I bought it a while back, but it was a little big. If it fits you, it’s yours.”
I sat up holding the new bra.
“Are you serious?” Sunny was really saving my ass. I could have kissed her. After all, she did know my name.
“Yeah, I’m serious, go make sure it fits before I pick y
our top.”
I jumped up and ran into her bathroom. I threw off my T-shirt and unhooked my bra. I fastened the strapless one in front and then spun it around as I pulled it up and over my boobs.
“It fits!”
“Oh my God. You’re going to be so hot in this,” she said as I returned, having put my clothes back on. She tossed a really pretty silver knit tube top onto her bed. It was almost white at the top and it faded into a shimmery silver at the bottom. I’d never worn something like that. I had a swimming suit cover up that was strapless, but other than that, I usually had straps, or sleeves, for that matter.
“I don’t know, Sunny.” I was suddenly even more nervous.
What if the clothes made me uncomfortable and I was more awkward than usual? Oh God, what if it fell down? Or I did something wrong and my tit flew out?
She sat next to me as I folded the jeans and the top.
“Do you like him?”
“Yes,” I confessed.
“Do you want to look special tonight? Not that how you look every day isn’t special, but Mutt, you’ll look so good tonight in this outfit. And here,” she popped up and grabbed her white jean jacket out of the closet, “you can wear this over the top, that way you won’t be cold. And it’ll cover up your shoulders. You can just slip it off when you’re eating or something. Trust me.”
She was sincerely trying to help me, and she always looked so nice and put together. Not overdone, but fashionable. If there was anyone I trusted to tell me if I looked like a weirdo, it would be her.
“I do want to look special tonight. It’s our first real date. Fuck, it’s my first real date, period.”
“See. This is something he sure as hell will remember you wearing.” She chuckled a little and added, “And if you like wearing it, maybe then you’ll want to go shopping with me in Browning next time I go.” Then she clapped her hands and shrieked again.
She was really excited. On the inside I was too, but on the outside it was like my skin was going to rattle right off my bones from the nerves.
“What about your hair?”
“What should I do?” If I was committing to her vision of a special me tonight, I might as well go all in.
“I think you should wear it down. I like it when you let it dry all wavy. It’s really pretty like that.” Well, hell, that was easy. Inside I felt a little bit of pride in knowing that it was natural—just me—and she liked it.
“Really, just let it go?”
“Yeah, I would spend a lot of money for the way your hair looks when you do it like that. No ponytail. Not tonight. You always do that, let it dry, and then wad it up on your head. Leave it alone tonight. And I say keep your makeup simple too. You have great skin and pretty eyes. Just some smoky eyeliner and mascara and some tinted gloss.
“I don’t have tinted gloss.” I could probably manage the mascara, but smoky eyes? I doubted I’d look much different than a raccoon. “And show me how to do that eyeliner.”
She gave me a toothy smile and clutched her hands over her heart. “Mutt, I’m so excited for you. He must be something special if you like him. He better be a nice guy.”
“I think he is.”
I hoped I wasn’t wrong, but what were the odds of people staying, long term, with their first real date?
Slim to none.
Still, I wasn’t a pussy. I wasn’t afraid to tackle something head on. Putting myself out there for him was dangerous, but deep down I knew it would also be a risk worth taking.
After she showed me how to do the eyeliner—which she said gave me fuck face, but in a good way—she gave me a few different gloss options, shoes, and some perfume I’d always liked.
I went home feeling like maybe, just maybe, he’d like what he saw. If nothing else, he’d have to notice I’d tried to put a little work into it.
I still had a lot of time, and my dad would be at the shop for hours, so I went home and took a long bath, making a point to shave my legs all the way to the tops, and trimmed a few other things. I spent a little more time washing my hair and let the conditioner sit in it longer than I normally did.
As the warm water calmed my nervous muscles, my mind drifted to the night before when his breath was in my ear and his hand on my neck. His lips had been wet and warm, and when he moved them I could feel a coolness where he’d previously been. Like he’d stamped me with his touch.
The way his eyes looked heavy and luminous all at the same time. The way he smelled, and the light scratch of his stubble across my cheek.
What was that saying? Don’t go out with a loaded gun?
Well, I doubt it was the same for girls, but I didn’t take any chances. For the first time, I touched myself and thought of a man I knew in real life. Not a movie star or singer. A real live person who’d asked me out on a date. It wasn’t the first time I’d brought myself to climax, but it was the first time I wished it was Vaughn.
I took my time, applying lotion to every square inch of my body, I pulled all of the out-of-line eyebrows I saw, and I even used a face mask that came in a basket I won at the High School Christmas Bazaar last winter.
It was the single most feminine day of my life. Even before I put the clothes on, I felt good about myself.
The jeans fit like a second skin, but they didn’t cut me in half at the waist, so I was happy for that. The shirt fit my curves perfectly and it was actually really flattering. Maybe I would go shopping with Sunny next time she drove the hour and a half to Browning.
By five o’clock I was ready. Not only that, I was fucking early.
I paced the house, hoping Dad would stop somewhere after work and miss me leaving. I wrote him a note explaining where I was. Not that he would have said a word, because he knew I could hold my own, but it was strange for me to be gone with my truck still in the drive. I always drove myself.
The note was short and sweet.
Dad,
I’ll be out until later. I left my truck here. Love you.
Mutt
Then, after taking one too many laps around my house, walking upstairs to my bathroom over four times to check that I’d done the smoky eyes just right and that my gloss was on straight, I decided to hell with it and cracked a beer. I sat on my porch waiting for him to pick me up. It was just me, Newcastle, and the almost deafening internal prayers that he’d guess my name the second he got there.
At five minutes until six, my dad never showing up, there was a flutter in my stomach as I saw his big, black SUV coming down the lane. I ran inside and grabbed my phone, some cash, shoved the lip gloss in my pocket, and put my empty bottle in the trash.
Just as he was pulling in, I was coming down the steps towards the driveway. The evening sun was a bitch this time of day on the way out to our place, and he had Aviator shades on. Sunglasses looked sexy as hell on him.
The windows were rolled down throughout the vehicle, and I could hear the thumping of some tune on his radio.
He leaned over, seeing that I was already headed his way, raised his glasses to get a look at me, and the finest smile I’d ever seen crossed his face.
“Kathy? Felicia? Nadine? Melissa?”
Well, he wasn’t anywhere close, but he was guessing so I thought that was confirmation my outfit really did look okay.
“Nope. Dammit.” I hopped in the passenger side. My hand went to the console for support as I lifted into the seat.
His hand covered mine and gave it a little squeeze.
“Hi,” I said, with a smile I couldn’t have left at home if I wanted to. “You’re punctual.”
“You’re lucky I wasn’t early. I haven’t known what to do with myself for the last hour,” he said as he backed out of my drive.
“I would have been ready. I’ve already had a beer.”
He looked at me like I’d just told him his head was on fire. “Are you kidding me? I wish I’d known that. I would have come earlier. I just had one, too.”
I liked hearing he was at least a little anxiou
s or excited about our night. It put me at ease somewhat, and I let my body relax into the plush leather seat.
“This is a really nice car,” I told him as I looked at all of the cool features. The coolest thing my truck had was a pedal on the floorboard that let me dim my brights. Oh, and it sounded like it had glasspacks, even though it was just the deteriorating muffler that was in need of a change.
“Thanks, I like it. I always liked having bigger vehicles when I was driving in the city. They feel safer.”
“I wouldn’t know what the hell to do in real traffic.” The worst I’d ever driven in was Browning, but that wasn’t like a major city or anything; they only had four lanes. “The most traffic you’ll find here is during the summer carnival. We have a car show and that draws a crowd. But still, it’s nothing to freak about.”
“You get used to it. When’s that summer thing?”
“Not until Memorial Day weekend. So end of the month.”
“Do you go?”
“I go for the food.” He looked at me as he pulled into his drive. “I love corndogs.”
“Do they have those lemonade things?”
“Lemon Shakeups? Uh, yeah. They’re awesome. Good with vodka, too.”
He turned off the ignition and we both climbed out. I walked slowly to the front of the vehicle, waiting on him.
“You look really good,” he said and reached his hand out to hold mine. “Come on.”
I didn’t hesitate, because I didn’t want it to seem like a big deal.
But it was.
It was huge.
The biggest, hugest fucking deal that had happened all day.
He walked behind me as we climbed the five or six steps on his back deck. Then he said, “Really, really good.”
O’Fallon didn’t look different, exactly, but there were small alterations, and she had a new glow about her I hadn’t seen before. There was a sway in the way she walked—and Christ, those jeans.
Those damn jeans.
That ass.
Holy God.
“Jennifer? Chelsea? Samantha?” I guessed as she walked ahead through the back door into my kitchen.
