Smiles, Scones, and Kisses

Our first kiss was like our relationship: adorable, awkward, and imperfectly perfect. It was not how I expected the night to end, especially with how the day started. 

Gosh, that was a train wreck. I had planned our third date to be a picnic at the beach. I spent the entire night before making mini quiches, homemade potato salad, and turkey, cranberry, and brie sandwiches. I baked key lime scones for dessert, as I knew that was your favorite flavor. Makes sense, as key lime is the perfect combo of sweet and tart, just like you. 

 The first batch of scones came out tougher than your dad's demeanor when he first met me, and I had to throw them all away. The second batch was better, but I knew it could be crumblier. The third attempt was a winner; all it cost me was three hours less sleep. 

 Due to my procrastination tendencies (which always was a source of frustration between us), I stayed up half the night focusing on wowing you with my culinary prowess. I was so tired the following day that I slept through my alarm. Had you not called to ask if I could pick you up later, I probably would have slept through our date!

 I rushed to get ready. Fortunately, I had my outfit picked out. I quickly packed the food in a picnic basket I purchased just for this occasion and drove at a very illegal speed to get to your place on time. I knocked on your door, and you came out in a large, white, floppy hat, sunglasses, and a stunning orange sundress. You looked like you could have stepped from a magazine cover from the 1950s: classic, elegant, and glamorous. "Hello, darlin'," you demurred as you greeted me in your best Marilyn Monroe impersonation. 

 I stared at you for way longer than socially acceptable. I still couldn't believe you agreed to go on one date with me, let alone three! You were the girl of my dreams since the moment I saw you two years prior. 

 I remember that moment well. I was ready to hate you as you were hired to take a position I was promised by my boss. Everyone who interviewed you sang your praises and said how you would be a valuable asset, yada, yada. Their glowing words had no impact on my cold heart. I was jealous and vowed you would be my enemy. I had every intention of giving you the cold shoulder if you ever asked for help. 

All those plans went out the window when you walked through the door. The first thing I noticed was your smile. Your smile stopped time, and I felt the world around me disappear. The way your grin wrinkled your nose and eyes made my stomach somersault for desire. I watched you waltz into the room, wearing a flower-patterned sundress and Converses, and waltz right into my newly warmed heart.  

Seeing you standing in front of your door, smiling in that orange sundress for our third date, was like falling in love at first sight all over again. 

The car ride to the beach was filled with great conversation and terrible singing. I have yet to meet anyone who makes me laugh as much as you and who can miss as many notes to a song as much as you. It was a blast and brimmed with hope of a good afternoon. 

That optimism ended pretty quickly. As we began to unpack, you asked where the blanket was located. Panic set in as I pictured the blanket left behind on the hallway table. We were going to have a picnic lunch on the beach with no place to sit. 

You were probably annoyed (and rightfully so), but you didn't show it. You just gave me that world-melting smile and told me that we were creative enough to find a solution. "It's a puzzle," you said, knowing what would cheer me up. 

You then asked for the suntan lotion. I winced. "Next to the towel," I confessed, looking down in shame. I didn't see you, but I could sense your body shaking as you tried to maintain composure. The blanket was one thing, but you needed the suntan lotion. Unlike me, your skin was soft and milky and easily burned. 

I struck out twice in two minutes, and the date barely began. I gulped my embarrassment and apologized profusely. You, being the kind and patient soul that you are, kissed my forehead and said, "I'm glad you didn't forget your handsome head." Just made me love you even more. 

We sat in the hot sand, and I opened the picnic basket to show you the delectable bounty. Even though I was famished as I skipped breakfast in order to be at your place on time, you were not hungry. Instead, you pulled out a Frisbee from your oversized bag and suggested we play a game of toss. I was game, and we found an area that wasn't too crowded. We played for about ten minutes. You were graceful with each catch and pass. The ocean breeze caused your long, brown hair to flutter as if you were surrounded by butterflies. 

 On the other hand, I played as if I was wearing mittens. I was so self-conscious about my lack of athleticism that I tried to overcompensate with my natural strength. I flung the Frisbee over your head and right into the ocean. I walked over to you as we watched the waves carry your Frisbee away. 

Strike three. 

"Let's eat," you muttered coldly, returning to the picnic basket. When we arrived, we were greeted with a flock of seagulls surrounding our lunch. I rushed to scare them away and surveyed the damage. Those scavengers had gotten into almost all of the food. Nothing was left untouched. All my hard work had gone to the birds, and we were left with only breadcrumbs. 

Somehow, I managed a strike four. I guess I am that unathletic. 

I grabbed the bird-poop-smattered picnic basket and shrugged my shoulders, totally lost on what to do next. We (mainly you) decided to call it a day and drove home in painful silence. All I saw was the back of your beautiful head as you looked out the window. I also noticed that your shoulders were beet red. Was it red out of anger or because of a preventable sunburn? I caught my reflection in the rear view mirror. My face was also crimson red. I assumed it was due to utter embarrassment until I touched my face. OUCH! I am definitely sunburned. 

Even though we hit it off immediately as friends, I waited two years for the right moment to ask you out. And now, as we drove, each minute marked not only the end of the date but most likely the end of this dream relationship. 

I wasn't going to let the idea of us go down without a fight. I would find a way to get this date back on track. I broke the silence and asked if you wanted to stop by somewhere to eat. You shook your head and continued to stare out the window. I then threw a Hail Mary and asked if you wanted to cook something together at your place or mine. 

Your head swiveled so fast in my direction I almost crashed. That would have been Strike five, for sure. Your face remained stoic until that trademark smile began to emerge. Almost as if you were waiting for me to stop playing it safe. "That," you declared, "is probably the best idea you had all day."  

 You then kissed me on the cheek. It may have stung due to sunburn, but it was worth it. 

We decided to make lunch at your place as your roommates were gone for a few hours. We raided your pantry looking for ingredients. It was your brilliant idea to make it a game. We both would select three ingredients and then work together to make one cohesive dish. I was amazed at how your brain works. 

The first ingredient you picked was canned corn. What can I say? I like things a little corny," you said with a wink. I could have kissed you right then and there. 

I don't recall any other ingredient or what we ended up making. All I remember is that it was one of my favorite meals because I made it with you. 

Home run. 

By the time it came to say goodbye, you were calling me your lobster and I was calling you my red panda due to how sunburnt we were. I loved that in the middle of the pain and failure, you kept smiling that timeless smile of yours. 

I kept staring at your smile as we walked to your door. We hugged, but we couldn't quite let go. I looked into your brown eyes. They were filled with dreams of a future together. 

I went to kiss you goodnight on your cheek, and you went to kiss me goodnight on my cheek. We ended up locking lips. I remember the softness of your lips and how we got closer the longer we kissed. I will never forget the warmth of your body nor how your breath was sweeter than key lime. 

I couldn't have asked for a better first kiss. I will always remember that day, and it is a memory I will treasure forever. 

Sadly, I do not remember our last kiss. Was it a peck before I left for work? Was it a passionate kiss before we made love? Was it a just-because kind of smooch?

I guess that is the difference between a first and a last kiss: you know when something is beginning, but you rarely know when something is about to end. 

Had I known that it was our final kiss, I would have made sure it conveyed how much I loved you. It would have reminded you of how you made every strike out seem like a home run and how your smile made time stand still. 

I may not remember our last kiss, but I will always remember when you were mine. Even now, the memory of your smile melts my heart.