Chapter 9 - THE FIRST DINNER THAT WASN’T WORK
I waited four months after Mara left my employment before asking her to dinner.
She made me ask twice.
First attempt:
“Dinner Friday.”
She stared.
“That sounds like a scheduling instruction.”
I closed my eyes.
Lily laughed from the sofa.
“Mommy says ask nice.”
Traitor.
I tried again.
“Mara, would you have dinner with me Friday?”
“Why?”
“Because I like you.”
Lily gasped dramatically.
I ignored her.
Mara smiled.
“Better.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
Lily raised both arms.
“I come?”
“No,” we said together.
She looked betrayed.
Our first date happened at a neighborhood restaurant I did not own.
Mara verified.
Apparently my habit of buying places remained suspicious.
We sat near other people.
No private room.
Gabriel remained two blocks away.
Compromise.
Mara asked about my sister Sofia.
I told her.
She told me about her husband, Daniel.
Not murdered.
Not secret witness.
A construction accident.
Ordinary tragedy.
Sometimes ordinary loss hurts enough.
Mara had spent two years rebuilding after it.
I asked:
“Do you still love him?”
“Yes.”
The answer did not threaten me.
That surprised me.
She asked:
“Does that bother you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Then:
“I don't need to stop loving somebody dead to make room for somebody alive.”
I understood.
More than I expected.
At the end of dinner, I walked her to the car.
No dramatic city skyline.
No danger.
Just traffic.
“Mara.”
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
She smiled.
“You ask now.”
“I've received complaints.”
“From whom?”
“You.”
“Reliable source.”
She stepped closer.
“Yes.”
The kiss was brief.
Then she pulled back.
“Slow.”
I nodded.
May you like
“Slow.”
For once, I meant it.
