Stained shirts

The biggest obstacle of the evening was going to be getting rid of his parents for a few hours, especially with all their questions. Josh wasn’t ready to share the romantic date he was planning, or even that there was in which he was interested. And besides, he was 34. He didn’t have to answer to them any longer about his personal life. It’s just that he was still living in his parents’ house and they still thought of him at times as a teenage kid.” Where are you going? What time will you be home? Who will you be with?” He was just waiting for them to ask, “will their parents be home?”

It felt like a cliché, but Josh had never been the romantic type. Then again, what guy was? He’d been accused by his ex of not living up to the fairy-tale she had expected, but it hurt most when she said she felt he didn’t love her or care about her. It wasn’t even close to true. He had loved her deeply, but he didn’t know how to show it. And it made him feel uncomfortable to buy sappy cards and show his love in public. It made him wonder, was this a personal flaw or just the way he was raised?

Josh’s culinary skills left much to be desired, but he was determined to make this evening special. “What is your idea of a perfect date?” he had asked from the list of questions. She had answered, a romantic dinner cooked and served at home with candlelight and soft music. He solved this romance problem the same way he solved most problems in his life. Ask Siri.

Hey Siri… how do I create a romantic dinner at home? She gave him a lot of recipes, so he changed his question. Hey Siri… what does Pick N Save have on sale in the deli today? Those answers and local digital flyer had helped him fill a small cart with boxed dinner items from the deli, and just to be creative and prove to himself that he could be romantic, Josh decided to make his own chocolate covered strawberries. How hard could it be?

He had only met Erica for 5 minutes and had asked, as well as answered, a barrage of questions sitting in the Holiday Inn conference room. He had liked her instantly, her dimples, her beautiful hands and the confidence in her answers. He was sure this was the one he would be asking for a phone number, as he felt that instant connection and hoped she was feeling the same way too.

Quite suddenly Josh thought he blew it. He answered the 2^nd question way to quickly, trying to be humorous. “How would your best friend describe you?” she asked. “A drunk,”, he told her. She paused and crinkled her brows. “Let me rephrase that,” he told her.” We go out on the weekends sometimes when we’ve had a hard week.” Her face softened and he let out the panicked breath he’d been holding.

The meatballs in sauce were warming up in the microwave, and he had a premade salad in a glass bowl on the table. The difficulty of hiding this romantic meal from his mom was that she was far too perceptive. He tried to ask offhand questions all week about cooking baked potatoes. Hiding things from his mom was difficult, she’d been worried about him since his last break up. He’d taken it hard and spent far too much time on the couch watching reruns of The Golden Girls. Then scrolling through his phone one day, he saw an ad for speed dating and decided to make the effort.

The first few strawberries fell into the melted chocolate and he fished them out and ate them himself, thinking it might calm his jittery stomach. He ended up with 8 that appeared respectable. Placing them on a serving dish, he heard the doorbell ring. Josh’s fingers were covered in chocolate and he succeeded in licking most of it off quickly as the bell rang again. He coached himself to take a few deep breaths.

Erica stood on the chilly front stoop wrapping her knit scarf a bit more across her face and hopping from foot to foot. This guy had made an impression on her, which hadn’t happened very often in her dating life. She was moved that he’d remembered her dream date. Josh seemed to have a tough guy exterior, but in the 5 minutes they spent together she could see there was more when you peeled away the layers. He may have been a bit unsure of himself, but she could tell he was eager to please. And that was like a breath of fresh air after a smoky room. Erica dated more arrogant men than she cared to remember and it felt like it was time to try on some new shoes.

That same smile caught her once again as he opened the front door, the same one she’d noticed at the hotel. It was warm and familiar. As he invited her in, she smelled chocolate and then noticed it. He had a long drip down the front of his white shirt, and that smile did not cover up the chocolate in the corner of his mouth. Her first words were flirtatious, “I hope you’re not wearing our dessert.” She instantly regretted it when he looked down at his shirt and closed his eyes for a moment. In his embarrassment, he didn’t realize that it endeared him to her.

The beep of the microwave saved both of them from that first awkward moment. Josh invited her to come in and have a seat in the living room while he cleaned himself up. It gave Erica a few moments to take in her surroundings. A less observant person would have just seen the comfort of the well-worn furniture and the lovely framed photos on the wall, but as she sat down she noticed doilies on the back of the couch where a head would rest. Charming, but odd for a single guy.

“I’ll be there in just a moment,” he called, “I’m just going to check dinner.” He walked back in the room with a bottle of red and a bottle of white. “I’ll try either one. Which do you prefer?” he asked her. “Red,” she replied, the color of love, she thought.

Josh was wearing a different shirt when he’d appeared, and she liked the color on him. It was a button-up forest green and it was stunning with his dark hair. Dinner was served and he poured the wine. He was a gentleman, she thought, as he pulled out her chair for her, and they made small talk about their jobs. Josh was tempted to tuck a napkin into his shirt, but instead he made sure not to drip on himself again, while Erica was enchanted by his dancing eyes when he talked and couldn’t care less about a messy shirt.

She was watching him closely even while she poured more wine. It was her turn to be a klutz as the wine glass tipped and splashed onto her blouse. She jumped and he reached, neither moving in time. Hands in the air she sighed, “I’m so sorry,” as it had spilled onto the antique embroidered tablecloth she was just noticing. She knew it would stain and wasn’t sure how make it right. “I’ll just go clean myself up. Where is your bathroom?” she asked. She walked sheepishly, feeling terrible and realizing she was soaked. How was she going to fix this? A white blouse with a wet, red stain was a bit provocative, and that was not her intent. “I might need another shirt,” she yelled from the bathroom. “Coming up!” Josh answered.

Cleaning up with a wet washcloth and berating herself, she noticed a cross stitch hanging above the toilet. “If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat,” it read. “OoooK,” she thought in her head. She hung the damp towel and her wet blouse on the safety bars near the shower, and heard Josh knock at the door. She peeked out and he handed her a blue t-shirt.

Dinner had not been completely ruined by her mess, but the tablecloth was removed and in the washer. Josh was waiting for her to come back out, and pondering how he would explain the stain to his mom, and whether this evening was turning out to be at all romantic. Maybe the chocolate covered strawberries would put some romance back into the evening. He wanted to kick himself when he entered the kitchen again. He had left the dish on the stove. The same hot stove he had cooked the baked potatoes. It hadn’t cooled yet and the strawberries were swimming on the plate of melted chocolate. “Idiot,” he said under his breath. What to do?

Taking a chance, he brought them out to the table where Erica was sitting in his blue t-shirt, and it gave him pause, the intimacy of the moment. She was wearing his t-shirt, on a first date. A giggle escaped her lips as he presented the mushy tray, and he knew that his mistake might actually work out. “I’ll get some more napkins,” he said.

They shared every last strawberry with napkins tucked into their shirts and spread across their laps. They used their fingers to lap up the melted chocolate. Smiling and eating in silence, except for the sounds of delight each time they took a lick from their fingers. Josh attempted to feed her a strawberry and was surprised when she closed her lips and kissed him instead.

It turned out, chocolate may have been the only sweet thing between them. As they broke apart, they stared at each other, afraid to say what was on their minds. Erica thought it felt like kissing her brother. Josh did not feel any sparks. The awkward moment left them both with no words.

She licked her fingers and pulled away the napkins. “I…I think I’m going to go,” she said. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he replied. He helped her with her coat and she grabbed her purse from the table by the door, and just then she noticed the framed photo above it. Josh in a black tuxedo, arm around a woman in a wedding gown. What the hell, she thought. Josh saw what she was looking at, and knew he had no words to explain why his wedding photo was still on the wall. It was his parents’ house after all. If it was up to him, he’d have taken it down a long time ago.

As he closed the door behind her he had one thought, I need to get my own place.

Erica’s one thought as she drove away? How am I going to get my blouse back?