A Toast to the Comebacks

She moved the Yves Saint Laurent Rouge Pur Couture No. 1 across her lips with masterful ease. She’d worn the brand’s cosmetic line since its 1979 debut, and the cool-toned red was her current signature shade. Anna, short for Annalise, was a faithful type. Most would describe her as grounded, logical, committed, warm, and soft-hearted. She’d done everything well in life: studied well, travelled well, married well, mothered well. She also succeeded well, having owned a women’s shoe store called Stilette’s Shoe Closet on 72nd Street for 35 years. A woman of wise predictions and good planning, she cashed out before online marketing of major department stores became too much to compete with.

To replace work, she kept herself busy. Most mornings, she swam at the Marlene Meyerson Jewish Community Center at Central Park West and lunched with her girlfriends afterwards. Her weekly agenda included tennis club, book club, mahjong meetups, Shabbat service at Temple Emanu-El, and the recitals and sporting events of her grandchildren. On Sundays, her two daughters came over with their families to spend the afternoon together. They would chat, play card games, and make dinner. Anna never lacked friends or motivation. She was a gentle force who kept a full schedule, always showing up and wearing a smile.

Sealing her lip color with touches of liner, she thought of why she agreed to this date in the first place. She was always declining her daughters’ insistence that she try to “get out there and meet someone.” Meeting someone wasn't the problem; Anna was lovely and approachable. She stayed fit and her natural beauty was preserved along with her kind disposition. She just hadn't been ready for the past six years. Her husband had died within three months of his fatal diagnosis: stage four. It took all of those three months to believe it was happening. Ever since, she couldn't force the feeling of desire back into her body. Dating was certainly not something she entertained. Until recently, on her weekly grocery trip to Zabar’s, when reaching for a rhubarb jam, she touched hands with a man reaching for the same. In the flutter of the moment, he looked over his glasses and said through a charmingly crooked smile, “Must be fate…not many people like rhubarb jam.” Anna burst with nervous laughter and excused herself. After their brief exchange, she let the moment escape, but the stirring incident coaxed her enough to give in to her daughters’ persuasions that she start an online dating profile.

When Sunday came and Margot and Elena unearthed the subject again, Anna surprised them both with an agreeable, “Sure…Okay.” After briefing their mother on how to navigate the site, their group text became flooded with Anna consulting them about all of her matches. After a slew of dodged bullets, the three agreed to a dinner invitation from a match named Samuel. He was Jewish, he had a nice smile in his photo, and his restaurant choice hinted that he could be a class-act: Majorelle, an upscale spot inside of The Lowell Hotel, east of Central Park.

So, here she was, physically and mentally readying herself. Never one to let on that she was nervous, whenever her friends asked how she felt about her upcoming rendezvous, she kept her replies short and claimed, “I’m just doing this to make my daughters happy.” She was definitely nervous, though; and her youngest daughter, Elena, was arriving to drive her in fifteen minutes. Her mind started to race with doubts that she could make it through the entire dinner date, layered with flashbacks of her late husband and how in love they were. Anna was a creature of forethought, and tonight was her first experiment with uncertainty in long time. Gathering herself from an emotional unraveling, she tilted her head back to halt the welling tears. After a beat, she steadied herself and returned to the moment: styling her black and silver hair into perfect waves.

“You ready, Mom? I’m out front.” Elena was like her father: generally cheerful with a childlike spirit and an emotional resilience that made any situation seem lighter.

“Yes, dear. I’ll be right down. Let me make sure I unplugged my curling iron.” It was just a line to stall. Anna was still considering backing out; her list of reasons had doubled within the hour. Making a last examination in the foyer mirror of her Fifth Avenue apartment, she thought of what her late husband would want her to do, what he would have wanted her to do for years now. Letting out a heavy sigh and a double-checking that her lipstick was in her purse, she made her exit.

The women made the usual small talk during the drive. Elena kept everything upbeat and not once asked Anna how she was feeling, as she already knew. “He picked a really nice place for the two of you…Did you look at the menu?”

“No. I didn't want to jinx myself.”

“Well, I did…If you can manage, add a wild mushroom tagliatelle to-go for me.”

“If I can make it to ordering dinner, that will be a miracle all its own.”

Elena pulled up to the restaurant’s curbside. “Want me to park and walk in with you? I can wait at the hotel bar.”

“No, no. Just drive around like we had planned.” Anna opened her door.

“Hey, Mom…”

“Yes?”

“You look HOT!”

Moving towards the entrance, Anna’s stomach knotted and jumped around from feelings she hadn’t felt in decades, this being her first first date in 53 years. She stuttered when asked for the name of her reservation, blanking from nervousness, “Oh, last name, maybe I…um…Samuel.”

The maitre d’ made a gracious save with, “Yes, I think I may know your dining partner. I’ll show you to your table.”

At a corner table with a centerpiece of orange roses, Samuel stood to greet her, “Hello, Anna, thank you for meeting me. You look lovely.” She immediately noticed that he was more handsome in person, a welcomed relief. Handing her the cocktail menu, he insisted, “Order anything and everything you’d like to have while we’re here.” Then, he jokingly added, “And if I get too boring, please, let me know.” That quickly drew a smile across Anna’s face.

The two ordered a round of gin martinis and continued their introductions with one another. Talk was light, but not dull. Anna found him charming; she liked his kind eyes and his tall posture. He seemed sure of himself and comfortable, which made her feel the same. The two spoke about their upbringings, their travels, and their families. Both had children and grandchildren. Sam was amicably divorced. Anna briefed her husband’s passing without alluding to the fact that this was her first date since becoming a widow. They made each other laugh and marveled how they were both Reformed Jews, born and raised in East Manhattan, yet they never crossed paths. Samuel jested with an easy smile, “On this island, there’s so many people, you never meet anybody.”

After sharing the little neck clams appetizer and some warm conversation, Anna felt much more relaxed. She realized she would be able to stay for dinner, and moreover, she felt comfortable enough to stay. “Uh, Samuel…” Anna began searching for her phone. “Excuse me a moment, I have to call my daughter. She’s driving around the neighborhood waiting for me in case I need a getaway car.”

“I love a woman with strategy,” he said with another broad smile. “Yes, I understand. I’ll order a bottle of wine for us. What’s your preference?”

“Oh, perfect, thank you. I’ll just be a moment. A red Bordeaux perhaps, I love anything with a good personality, something bold and structured.”

Samuel responded with gentle wit, “I’ll step my game up, then.”

Realizing her accidental innuendo, Anna’s face flushed bright pink and she began to explain through soft laughter, “Oh, gosh, I did not–”

“Forgive me, I’m only joking.” Samuel reached across and palmed her elbow, his broad grin surfacing again.

Anna’s attraction interrupted her embarrassment, thinking: he does have a nice smile.

She phoned Elena outside, who answered within the first ring, “Mom! Hey! Do you need me? I’m just on Park Avenue.”

“No, no. I’m okay actually, I wanted to call and tell you to go home. I’m fine, really. I’m having a great time and I’ll get a cab when I leave.”

“Ah, that’s great news! AND…You just won me a hundred bucks! Margot and I had a bet going, and I bet a hundred bucks that you’d stay for the entire dinner.”

After the call, Anna stood for a moment on the 63rd Street sidewalk while a soft wind breezed through and rustled the trees. She turned towards the air so it could kiss her face and she felt a lightness come over her, a surprising playfulness, feeling impressed with herself that she was on a first date with someone she found attractive, and she was planning to stay through dessert. Returning, she saw Samuel had chosen a wine and was politely waiting for her return to have a glass.

“I took the liberties of tasting the bottle. It’s not a Bordeaux, but it is from one of my favorite wineries, one called Le Macchiole in Tuscany…it means the spots in Italian. I hope you like merlot.”

“I do like merlot, I remember it had a bad rap for some years, though, seems like a forgotten wine choice.”

“You’re correct in that. One line in the movie Sideways knocked merlot off its perch for a while. It wasn't completely out of context, though. New wine makers in California over-irrigated the lands to grow more of the variety, which compromised the taste profile and damaged the grape’s popularity. It was never merlot’s fault. But, as of recent, it’s making a comeback, and I understand a thing or two about comebacks…May I?”

Anna smiled at his joke and nodded. As Samuel delicately poured wine into her glass, she said with earnest intrigue, “I think I could learn a lot from you.”

“I hope I don’t sound pretentious. I don't claim to know many things, but wine is something I study. I find it meditative. What I mean to say is, it’s a fine grape, always has been, and I hope you will enjoy this one.”

Anna took the glass to her nose. She was no sommelier, but she did enjoy the astute pleasures of wine tasting. She inhaled the blackberry, the spice, the subtle oak. “Shall we make a toast?”

“Oh, absolutely. You have the floor.”

They raised their glasses and she continued, “How about we toast to the comebacks in life, like merlot?”

Samuel echoed, eyes beaming, “To the comebacks.” And, adding after their first sip, “Hey! Merlot’s not dead, and neither are we!”

“Yes!” Anna crescendoed with laughter over his witty analogy. “Neither are we!” She felt completely at ease and freed from her anxious apprehensions. Sure, the martini had kicked in, but she was feeling more than the gin. Laughing with a man again had sparked something dormant within her. Finally getting out there and meeting someone was advice well taken, and so was ordering the mushroom tagliatelle.

Anna let Samuel drive her home and they made dinner plans for the next week. The uncertainty she felt in the beginning of the night melted into excitement as desire, that familiar feeling, came back. Realizing this part of herself was all but lost, she resolved to make a comeback of her own and give herself the chance to be in love again. She did have an optimistic curiosity of where things could lead with Samuel, but wasn't assuming too much for now. Besides, she was still wondering about Mr. Rhubarb Jam.

*For all images: Copyrights unknown. Collage and art edits are my own.