by M. Mabie
15
Abe
When service was over, I walked to my truck pleasantly surprised. It had been the first one out of the last three Sundays I hadn’t wanted to get up in the middle of the message and leave. The young female woman who delivered the sermon was a lively and relevant speaker who focused that morning on loving your neighbor.
I couldn’t be absolutely certain, but walking away from the building, I felt like I’d go back.
Why had I begun my Fairview church tour? It was hard to say. Maybe it was because without Myra around, and since I’d been hanging back, not spending so much time with Chris and Ashely as a result, I was lonely. They hadn’t been avoiding me, but I’d been keeping some distance to give Myra space.
Give her time.
Let her have her own experiences.
And although it wasn’t pleasant, and I fought going to her and reaching out daily, it had paid off.
She’d come to me, at least in a small way, in her own time. On her own free will. She’d agreed to see me again, and I was thankful.
Mostly, I was excited.
I wasn’t a romantic man, clearly, but I had a few tricks up my sleeve. I didn’t want our date to be about anything more than a good time. Something she’d look back on and smile. An event that maybe one day in the future we’d tell others about fondly. Something to replace the tragic way we originally met.
Since I was already cleaned up, trimmed, groomed, brushed and buffed, I had some spare time before I needed to pick her up. So I made the rounds, checking the pieces I had on consignment, strolling around hardware stores. Then I ran to a few other stores, piecing together her gift.
AT A QUARTER TO FIVE, I pulled into the Griers’, pleased that the situation was so different than the last time I’d parked in their drive. Ted and Dori were on the porch, smoking and having a beer like I imagined they did regularly.
Dori whistled. “You’re looking sharp on this Sunday afternoon.”
“I was beginning to wonder if the water still worked at the cabin,” Ted teased.
“It’s working just fine.” I stopped at the steps and propped one foot on the stoop.
“So you’re going on a date.” He grinned like he knew all the secrets of the world.
I was about to answer when about that time Myra walked by the door. She caught sight of me, opened the screen, and leaned out.
“You’re here.” She looked back into the house and then returned her dazzling blue gaze to me. “I just need to put on my shoes.”
“Take your time. I’m early,” I replied, unable to take my eyes off her.
She grinned but kept her lips tight to hide it and sprang back inside. We hadn’t even left yet and there was already a lightness about her that I hoped I could keep alive.
In the blink of an eye, she was back, shoes on and ready to go.
Ted stood as she headed toward me at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey now.” He bent to pull another beer from their tiny cooler and passed it to Dori who thanked him. “You’re not my daughter, and you’re not my son. Lord knows you’re both too damn uptight to be mine, but whatever. Go out and cut up a little. Have a good time. Act like you’re young and dumb and in your twenties for once. Then again, you two Froot Loops are the only weirdos I know who go on dates on Sundays, but you better not be late to work tomorrow.”
I chuckled despite myself.
“And you,” he pointed at Myra. “Order the most expensive thing on the menu, smack him if he gets too handsy, and don’t wake us up when you come in.”
Myra’s perplexed face was pricelessly frozen. Eyes wide. Mouth agape.
“Ready?” I asked her, and she walked beside me to the truck. I opened the door for her and everything about it felt right. That’s how dates were supposed to begin.
“Thank you,” she said as I shut it for her.
I wasn’t sure what to expect as far as what she’d wear, and I hadn’t told her anything about where we were going, but she looked perfect. She was wearing a denim skirt that went down mid-calf, and a pretty flowery shirt that was sheer, over a tank top. Her hair was the same as the day before, part wild and part tame.
It was her.
“Are you hungry?” I asked and made a left out of their drive.
“Very,” she replied. “I was too excited to eat much today.”
Did she know that kind of honesty wasn’t common? She wasn’t typical, and probably never would be. Thank God.
“I think you like Italian food. You’ve made things that lean that way.” A few times a week. We might have been starting at ground zero, the first date, but I knew what I knew, and I was taking advantage. She liked pasta.
“I do,” she said with her hands clasped on her lap. I wanted to grab the one closest to me and hold it, but this was a fresh start. I’d have to earn my way back to that or wait for her to make the first move.
I’d made pub tables for Matteo and his partner Travis before Basil & Company opened, and I was glad they remembered me when I called earlier to get some help. I should have brought her there a long time ago, but maybe things worked out in the long run.
After the short drive through the oldest part of Fairview, we pulled into a space right up front. The second I stepped out of the truck I could smell the restaurant. I too hadn’t eaten much, and my stomach reminded me with a gurgle as I rounded the hood.
Myra had already opened her door, but I held it for her as she got out on the curb. The air was crisp, but the sun was still warm in the sky. If she wanted to, it would be a nice evening to eat on their small patio out back.
I gestured toward the door and she walked in front of me. I was only a man, so I couldn’t ignore how perfect her shape was as she strolled inside. Even if it was one date, and she didn’t want to see me again, I was still lucky to be with her now.
Matteo was behind the long bar that ran the length of the restaurant on one side and welcomed us with a smile when we came in.
“Ciao,” the short, dark-haired man greeted. We’d met several times, but this was the first time I’d been in the restaurant since they’d officially opened. Sauntering over he offered a hand to Myra over the bar, and she glanced at me unsure of what to do.
I didn’t answer, because I wanted her to respond the way that felt the most natural to her. Without my influence.
On cue, she put her hand in his and he kissed it. She tensed, but just for a second.
“Welcome to Basil & Company. I’ve been expecting you two. I’m Matteo the owner, and you must be Myra.” He put her hand on the lacquered bar and offered me his to shake. “Abe, it’s good to see you again. I was happy to hear when Travis said you’d be joining us for dinner tonight. I was beginning to wonder if you forgot about us.” His English was flawless, but there was still a hint of an authentic Italian accent underneath.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long,” I apologized.
“We weren’t sure if you wanted to dine inside or alfresco.” He glanced back and forth between us for a clue.
“Outside sounds lovely,” Myra answered without hesitation. “If that’s okay with you.”
He slapped the shiny top. “Perfect. I agree. Soak up the beautiful weather while you can. I’ll get you a drink here at the bar, and then I’ll prepare your table myself.” He waved over the bartender and spoke to him discreetly, so we couldn’t hear.
There was a hum in the air as patrons talked and ate, but it was calm and peaceful in the elegant bistro. I wasn’t sure what string instruments were playing on the speakers, but it was fitting and added to the atmosphere.
Myra climbed atop the nearest stool and I stood behind her, not to take up more room than necessary since it was filling up.
“What can we get for you to drink? Wine? A cocktail?” Matteo asked Myra first.
“Um,” she struggled with a decision. But before I could speak up to help, she asked him, “What wine do you suggest?”
My brow lifted, stunned by her boldness.
; Was she going to drink? Had she been drinking at the Griers’?
A protective waved went through me, hoping that if she had tried alcohol they’d looked after her. I also had read a lot about how common it was for cult survivors and people who’d escaped irrationally strict religions to form drinking problems, as well as other addictions.
Was that something I needed to worry about?
“We have a lovely blush rosé that pairs with almost anything. Not too sweet. Not too dry.”
She thought and then glanced at me. I didn’t want to discourage her from trying it. She was old enough to drink what she wanted, and I couldn’t deny how curious I was to see what she thought.
“I’ll take that,” I answered, knowing it would be my only drink.
Her face lit up mischievously, and she returned her attention to the friendly Italian taking our order. “That sounds fine. I’ll have one too, please.”
She’d come a long way from the woman who would barely look me in the eyes when she spoke to the woman who was politely asking for a glass of wine with dinner.
Myra looked all around at the artwork and decorations, and in no time, Matteo had filled our glasses and left us to them. Since I was at the end of the bar, I took a step and bellied up on the corner, so I could watch her.
“Have you had wine before?’ I asked her.
Her jaw rocked, and her chin dipped toward her chest, putting her pink cheeks in full view. To the side, her sapphire eyes blinked up at me. “No.”
“Have you ever tried alcohol?”
The corner of her rosy lip tucked into her mouth, she nodded that she hadn’t.
It was a different brand of shy than I was used to seeing from her. Maybe shy wasn’t it at all.
Maybe she was bashful.
No. Myra looked naughty. Oh, Lord.
I swallowed a thick lump in my throat, because the second that word lanced through my mind, I was grateful for the bar in front of me. As she studied and swirled her drink, I had to shift and adjust myself. Thankfully, no one could see me do it.
I could honestly say I’d never had that happen to me before. Then again, I’d never been on a date with Myra. I’d always been attracted to her, but back at the cabin, I’d always had someplace to escape to. There was no such place at Basil & Company, so I began thinking of things to take my mind off her.
Jigsaws. Band saws. Hand saws. Hacksaws. Keyhole saws.
By the time I got through a handful of erection killing tools, I lifted my glass and she repeated the motion.
“To first dates,” I toasted and clinked mine against hers.
Myra’s smile made the temperature in the room increase, and we both took a taste. Eyes locked on one another. Personally, I’d never had that kind of wine either, and I’d never thought much of the wines I had tried, but that one was crisp and bright. Maybe the view helped.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
She answered, “It’s tangy.” Then she sipped again.
“What made you want to try it?”
She placed the stem of her glass over the B&C logo on the napkin in front of her. “Ashley said if I was nervous, that wine might help.”
“I see.” I hoped she wasn’t anxious about the date, I didn’t want to add any stress to her rapidly filling plate. “Is it working?”
A light chuckle passed her lips. “I can’t tell yet. How long does it take to kick in?”
“I don’t know.” I was in danger of reciting another list of sharp objects if I didn’t watch myself. “What are you nervous about?”
16
Myra
What wasn’t I nervous about? Everything was foreign. From the things I wore, to how I spoke, to going on dates, and now I was drinking. I wasn’t sure who I was anymore, but at the same time some changes were like a whole new, exciting world opening its doors to me. Meeting people who were so different. Being exposed to ideas and perspectives I’d never considered.
My small world was growing.
Independence was nice, although sometimes it was hard to balance. Often, I felt like I needed guidance, but without anyone telling me what to do or what decisions to make, I could only rely on myself, my instincts, and hopefully some luck.
At that moment, even though I was still confused about what I wanted, I was nervous that Abraham would think I was plain and boring. If being out in the real world without him had shown me anything over the past few weeks, it was that there were women everywhere looking for good men like him.
There were articles all over the internet about how to catch a man. There were advertisements on local television about singles nights and dating apps that were designed to help available people find a match. Additionally, Ashley said there were girls in her salon who were always trying to get fixed up with Abraham after he’d come in for a trim.
Even there in the restaurant, a woman only a few feet down the bar could hardly keep her eyes to herself.
With all these options, why would he want me?
I wasn’t as educated, well-traveled, or experienced as any of them. Not only that, but I reminded him of a place and time in his life he hated.
And I was still affiliated with Lancaster. For now, at least.
If either one of our families knew what had been going on with us, that we hadn’t moved our bands, weren’t living what they deemed Godly as husband and wife, they wouldn’t be happy. If it got around that I was now getting my GED, wearing worldly clothes, and drinking, I’d be banished like the Griers.
Did I care?
It was hard to when I was sitting in a lovely restaurant on a first date with him.
Since the last time I’d seen him, he’d trimmed his facial hair and tamed his locks as much as he could. And, I couldn’t be sure, but his pressed, tan button up shirt, jeans, and shoes all looked new. It gave me a small thrill to think he’d dressed up for me.
Maybe that was just what he did for dates though. It wasn’t like this was his first.
I answered his question as best I could. “I’m nervous I won’t be a good date.”
“I wouldn’t be too worried about that,” he replied and shifted a fraction closer to my arm. “You’re doing just fine.”
Abraham smelled so fine. Fresh and clean. My lungs weren’t big enough for all the air I wanted.
“Thank you. I tried looking up tips, but there were just too many. Dating is complicated.”
He took a drink and then licked the wine off his bottom lip. It reminded me of kissing and my heart sped up.
“People make it more complicated than it has to be, I think. Just relax.” The green in his eyes charmed me as he spoke, and it was hard not to get lost in them. Then again, they were familiar, and coupled with his deep, reassuring voice, getting lost for a while didn’t seem so bad.
“One thing almost all the sites agreed on was conversation. We should keep it light and playful.” I lifted my glass to my mouth and noticed, with each swallow, the wine’s taste became less potent.
“Okay, how are you getting along with Ted and Dori?” he asked with a spirited half-smile.
“They’re great, but really loud sometimes. They’ll have to watch that when their grandbaby is around. Waking babies is never a good thing.”
He chuckled and replied, “They could wake the dead.”
Laughing, I turned on my stool just enough that my leg brushed his thigh. It was firm against my knee. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to bump you.”
“I don’t mind.” He looked down into the fat belly of his glass. “Bump into me anytime you like. Bump. Kick. Nudge. I’ll take what I can get.”
He’d told me once that people dated to see if they were attracted. To see if they were compatible. I hoped we were both.
Maybe it was the wine, which admittedly I still couldn’t feel in my system, but my fingers moved a few inches nearer to his. He watched it, and I thought I saw his pinky twitch a hair closer to mine.
I’d tuned out everything around us at the end of the bar when I
felt someone put their hand on my shoulder. Startled and looking up, I saw that Matteo also had one on Abraham.
“Sorry to interrupt, but your table is ready.” He motioned toward the back of the restaurant and my date quickly straightened, as if he’d been sucked into the previous moment too.
“Thank you,” Abraham said and picked up both of our glasses to take with us.
I hopped off my seat and looped the small canvas bag I’d brought over my shoulder.
As our host guided us through the tables leading to the back, I noticed a sign to the ladies’ room and reached out to Abraham.
“I’ll meet you out there.”
In the restroom mirror, my face was as blush as the wine we drank. The pink in my cheeks was warm to the touch, but I liked it and felt good about myself. I didn’t dwell in the mirror long though. Vanity never got anyone anywhere.
After using the facilities and washing up, I searched the patio for my date and table. Just outside the doors I was surprised. The patio area was massive. Lights strung from side to side, creating a canopy. Tables and seating arrangements mixed with greenery in every direction. Off to one side there was a stage, and I worked my way across the courtyard looking for Abraham, squinting from the late afternoon sun in my eyes.
Across the way, under a green and white striped umbrella, a hand in the air caught my attention.
There was no way for me to know if I was doing the right things, but even if I was messing everything up it didn’t matter that evening. I’d soak up the blissful sensations of walking toward him in such a beautiful place.
To think, I almost missed out on all of it.
If things were different. If he hadn’t come back for me. It was hard to say, or even imagine, what I’d be doing instead.
Overwhelming gratitude filled my heart.
So before I took the seat he held out for me, impulsively, I lifted my hand to his cheek, pressed my lips against his. It was so fast it could barely qualify as a kiss.
“Thank you,” I said.
