A Chance Meeting

A Chance Meeting

             My mother called me “ugly” once. 

I was staring in the bathroom mirror for the fifteenth time, looking at my reflection, making sure that this red dress doesn’t draw attention to my ‘thunder thighs”. Yeah, right, Janneke, whom do you think you are?  Purposely pushed an annoying strand of hair behind my left ear.

             “Ugly,” was the one word my loving mother use to say follow with, “Girl, you’re so ugly no boy will ever look at you.”

             Pulling my hair up in a bun, no, that’s not right, letting out a deep sigh, brushing my chestnut brown hair for one last time. Once more staring at my reflection trying to decide whether or not the color is right, Should I change into the dark blue dress instead? A sense of dread washes over my thoughts. A helpless feeling of insecurity whispers in my ears, memories flooded my mind with all of those blind dates that fail—exposing myself for all of the worlds to see, this ugly girl.

             “There,” I whisper, though no one is around to hear me; still, I don’t want to do anything to jinx this blind date, not now. Licking my lips, applying just the right amount of red lipstick, not too much or else, I would look like a “clown.” “You don’t want to run anyone off, right?” I silently mumble. 

             My phone beeped a text message from a concerned friend, Ms. Pamla, with words of confidence, to remember that “I am beautiful.” Causing a light chuckle to rise from my throat. Satisfied with the red dress, twisting my hair into a tight bun, I am ready to face my blind date.

Or at least I hope so, as those words echo start to whisper once more, “ugly.”  Determination, that’s what I need, suppressing them again, smoothing my dress, glancing at my reflection one last time. Tick, tick with each sound reminded me of another time, one that I had almost forgotten. A time when I was sixteen and going on my first date, my mother spent time helping me pick out the “perfect dress.’ Only to be stood up- with my mothers’ loving words, “See, I told you not to get your hopes up, child.”

             “This time is different,” I assured myself. Now I am older, almost thirty-five, and still, I have a lot to offer, being an editor of one of the leading magazines. Anyone would be lucky to have me as their date. Glancing up at the clock, just enough time to grab a little something to eat, only in case, I.. um- no, I won’t be stood up.

              As I leaned over the kitchen sink, eating a piece of toast, making sure that I won’t get my dress dirty with a bunch of crumbs-a quick dab from my napkin I was ready to meet my date.

**

             “Hey, Derrick, where you going?” Tom’s words spat out, as he lazily sits in front of the TV, watching the Eagles play. He was glancing up watching Derrick putting on his “lucky tie,” With his light blue shirt and dark gray pants, Derrick slicks back his dark curly hair. 

             “What did you say?” Derrick hastily said, studying his reflection in the hallway mirror, perfection, he thought as his tongue ran across his pearly white teeth. 

                          “I said, where’s you going?”

 “On a blind date,” Derrick off handily replied, excellent as he takes another look in the mirror, adjusts his tie, perfection is what he always strives for, which is the one thing he looks for in a date  They must dress a certain way and carry themselves with confidence and charm. 

                            “A blind date? Tom said, “You never go on a blind date. Why now?

             “Oh, I don’t know, it’s just that I have gotten tired of all of the usual girls that I have dated.” Derrick added, “I just wanted a change.

             Derrick takes his tweezers, and grooms his nose hair, followed up with combing his neatly trim mustache.  The grooming is more of a simple ritual; Derrick has made it into an art- a reminder from his father. “Son, there is one thing in this life, and that is always to look your best.”  Those few words are what Derrick has lived by all of his adult life, and he expects his date to be one of the same. To always look their best, no matter how they feel. 

             Imperfection was the only thing that Derrick wasn’t able to handle, especially with his mother, who, unlike his father, was nothing but a total mess, in his opinion. “Why, dad, do you put up with mom, the way she is?” Derrick asked once when he was sixteen, a question that his dad didn’t answer to meet his satisfaction “Son, your mother is sick, and well, I simply love her, just the way she is.”

             “I guess that’s why I just can’t handle someone who isn’t as perfect as myself.”Derrick whisper.

                         “Did you say something?”

             “No, just go back watching the game.”

                            Brushing away a loose curl, annoyed that it doesn't stay in place, Derrick’s narrow gaze at the wall clock slowly ticking away, pushing away any unwarranted nervousness, grabs his sport jacket and out of the door to meet his blind date.

             The air was crisp for this time of the month, another reminder that summer was ending, and Autumn was beginning. Only a few blocks from the Italian Restaurant, Janneke decided to walk instead of hailing a cab. As her heels click on the cement, she finds herself daydreaming, to another time when she had first arrived in the city, those were exciting times full of wonder. Now they are ordinarily, explicit, and at times tedious. 

             “There's’ still hope,” As I continue on my way, with my eyes cast downward to avoid anyone looking at me, this ugly girl.  Counting each step as I get closer to the restaurant, “Stupid.” Is what my mother would have said if she saw me now. “No,” the word spilled out of my mouth before I could do anything. Glancing up as I caught a glimpse of a man looking straight at me, ashamed, I quickly looked away. “Got to keep moving.” Blending in with the crowd draws me deeper into the unknown. With each step, I can’t help the sensation of anticipation, wondering how this date will turn out.    Honestly, I am content with working and spending time reading.  Finding myself this vulnerable and expose is more than I had ever bargained for, just like when I was sixteen, and that is something I don’t want to repeat, not now

             Parking his fancy sports car in the nearby garage, Derrick hops out, adjusting his “lucky tie” whistling a catchy little tune as he takes one last look in his side-view mirror before he heads toward the restaurant. Exhaling, Derrick takes a quick whiff of his hand. , just in case Derrick mumbles to himself- satisfied that his breath didn’t smell. Derrick struts his stuff through the crowd, filled with anticipation of meeting the perfect woman.  He was finding himself daydreaming of what she would look like, blond and blue eyes. “She has to have blue eyes.” Derrick thought, after all, he prefers “blue eyes.”  Some may say that he is vain, others may call Derrick picky, while he believes that there is nothing wrong desiring “perfection.”

             “That’s what it is all about, son” is what his father would say “Strive for the best, never settle on the lesser things in life.  “Yep, that’s me—the best,” Derrick whispers just before he reaches the door of the restaurant. Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the restaurant's window, I slow down. people are laughing and having a good time. “Why am I here?” I said under my breath, torn between running away or staying as the word “Ugly” whispered in my ear as I neared the entrance. “No, I’m staying.” Determined to go through with this, no matter what the outcome will be, I’m not backing down, not this time.   Suddenly, I felt someone else's hand, startled, I looked up and saw a man with slick black hair staring at me. “Excuse me, Miss.” His voice is warm and inviting. “After you” as he held the door open. 

             “Thank you,” I whispered, with a narrow gaze toward the patrons scattered throughout the room.  “You’re welcome,” Derrick politely replied, as he approaches the Maitre’d, a thinly built man and a mustache to match.

                            “Good evening Mr. Wallace.” the man curtly said

                                          “Good evening, sir.”

Standing back watching this formal exchange, I could not help but take notice of this man’s last name. I double-check the text from my co-worker, Shannon, the person responsible for setting this whole blind date up. “Yep, just as I thought, he’s my blind date.” Taking a deep breath, I waited a few minutes, hovering around one of the chairs near the exit. Bidding my time, “he’s not too bad looking, a little on the heavy side, but still, he has a warm voice.”

             “Excuse me, Miss,” the Maitre'd pointedly said with a stern demeaning gaze

                            “Yes? Casting my eyes downward, away from his unwarranted glare

             “Can I help you with something?”

                            “I.., um Mr. Wallace’s date.”

             With a risen eyebrow, he cleared his throat, “Follow me.”

             With each precise step, I followed him to Mr. Wallace’s table, who looked surprised at seeing me standing there at his table, a bewildered look as he calmly said, “Can I help you, Miss?- “ Miss Janneke Roberts, your date,” I answered, waiting with my outstretched hand. Almost following a written script, Mr. Wallce stood and shook my hand as he then proceeded to pull out my chair to sit down.

             Taking his seat directly across from me, he smiled, “I must say that I am quite surprised by your beauty, Ms. Roberts.” Glancing away for a brief moment, the only words I could say was a modest “Thank you, Mr. Wallace.” “Please call me Derrick,” he continued, “May I call you Janneke?” “Yes.”  “Do you mind?” Derrick said as he stood up and unloosing my hair as it cascaded around my face. Ashamed and embarrassed as I was attempting to put it up again in a bun, his hand gently touched my hand and said, “There, you look stunning!”

             Feeling exposed, part of me just wanted to get up and run out of the restaurant, never before has anyone, especially a man touch my hair in such a profound manner. “You are magnificent, Janneke.” In which I smiled and said, “Thank you.” A slight chuckle escaped his mouth, “ I must say that your co-worker, what’s her name?” – “Shannon” – “That’s right, Shannon, she didn’t do you any justice by saying that you were just average looking.” 

             “Here’s to blind dates” Derrick smiled as our glasses clink together.

                            “Blind dates,” I joyfully echoed, looking into his dark brown eyes.

             My mother called me “ugly” once.

                            I call myself “Beautiful.”