Ok, so the date doesn't appear in here.
This week has been a pain in the ass in a lot of ways. I'm glad it is nearly over. Beloved should have tomorrow off after working since Thanksgiving. We're supposed to go to the city with his mom and the boys. So, at least half a day I can keep him from work. :)
In other non-writing news, one of my favorite restaurants is under new ownership and my favorite dish was too salty. :( I'm hoping it was a one time thing. They have this awesome poblano pepper quesadilla. But not if it is always going to be salty. Boo.
To the story!
8 Dates, The Second Date
“Tell me all about it.” Craig topped off her wine and Delaney made a face. “Oh, stop. We both know we have to finish the bottle or we’ll forget it.”
“No, we both know you believe the more wine you pour into me the more I’ll tell you about the date.”
“I’m not sure it counts.”
“For fuck’s sake, Craig!” Delaney slammed her wine glass on the cheap coffee table and set a new stain in the particle board’s faux stain.
Her glare sharpened and he settled back onto the couch as she rose to get a towel. She returned with the towel, tossed carelessly onto the table, and the carton of ice cream. Craig watched her open the pumpkin ice cream container and he frowned when she brandished only one spoon. He could get his own.
“I’m not sure how you can say the date doesn’t count.” He’d waited, ill-concealed impatience obvious, as she’d eaten several bites.
“Because you’d dated her before. The goal was new dates.”
“I didn’t know I’d dated her before. It was high school. And she was different.”
“Oh. My. God. Was she a he then?”
Delaney’s eyes rolled and she ate ice cream.
“Come on! You have to spill!”
“She was a she. What she was not, was blonde and in a suit. When I’d known her before she had red hair and didn’t wear anything but black.”
“You dated a goth!”
“I dated anyone who’d go out with me.”
“So desperate.” He clucked and reached for her wine glass to pour the contents into his.
Another eye roll as she ate in silence. This time, he didn’t try to get her to talk. At least, not until he’d finished the wine in his glass.
“Come on. At least tell me if the date ended before or after she figured out who you were.”
He would pester her. All day. Or, try to ply her with wine and she had another date tonight. Not that she looked forward to it.
“She recognized me almost immediately,” Delaney admitted. “And then spent the first hour being coy about it. Dropping hints I didn’t pick up on until she was pissed. I mean, that was ten years ago! How am I supposed to remember everyone I dated in high school?”
Craig made vague, approval-sounding clucking noises. He could recite his dates alphabetically or chronologically. Every last one. She thought him weird.
“Anyway, by the time she informed me of our shared past we’d already ordered lunch. Which, by the way, sucked. And she stuck me with the bill. Like, literally! Excused herself to the bathroom and never came back. She did send a text about fifteen minutes later to say she had to go.”
“Oh, that bitch.” Craig scooted closer, but she wasn’t fooled. “Oh, come on.”
“No.” She moved her spoon away from him. “The last time you ate ice cream with wine you puked all night. Everywhere. It was so nasty.”
“You have a point.”
“Wine or dairy, never both. You made me swear a solemn oath to uphold your own oath that terrible morning.”
“Ok, ok. Sheesh! There’s no need to be that way.”
“Ugh. Yes. Fine. I told you not to add women to the list though. Remember?”
“Because you’re a homophobe.”
“That’s so true.”
“Because you’re afraid of finding a dick bigger than yours.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Only because we both know how tiny yours really is.”
“I am not going to spend my one day off this week being insulted.”
“So, not gaming?”
“Did dating always make you this bitchy?”
“Yes. Which is why you should call off this mess and just let me use the beach house.”
“Never. We need to get you laid.”
“We don’t need to do anything. Ugh. I’m going to take a nap.”
“Be depressed in your room.” Craig reached for his controller. “Well, try not to sob too loudly. It throws off my skills.”
Delaney took her ice cream back to the kitchen. On the way through the living room she ruffled his hair. He swatted at her hand.
“Our problem is, we won’t settle for each other,” she offered as she leaned over the couch to watch his game load.
“Well, when we’re ancient, like thirty or so, we can settle.”
“Thirty is not that far away.”
“Ok, sixty. Deal?”
She wound up back on the couch, because Craig was such a terrible player it was amusing to watch him annoy his teammates. Anyway, she could feel sorry for herself on the couch as well as her bed. And, she was closer to the ice cream in case she wanted it again. She might, with another date waiting in a few hours.