Blind Date

The sun-kissed Daffodils seemed to be nodding their yellow heads directly at me.

“Cheers”, I said as I lifted my glass of Merlot to the awakening of Mother Earth. The water of the Chesapeake Bay seemed sun kissed too as it sparkled back at me over the blue forget-me-nots spawning in my yard. “Cheers to you too” I said as I lifted another glass of wine in applause of Spring.

But try as I might from the comfort of my water view deck the somber grey of winter still hung over me. I couldn’t shake it. I had been a widow for three years. It was a dark November night when a drunk , driving the wrong way on a narrow road , smashed into my husband Bob killing both of them.

Gone in a flash were 25 years of a comfortable, not flashy, but respectful togetherness. Gone the special occasion dinners we surprised for each other; gone the tug-of-war over whose turn it was to walk the dog; gone the sharing conversations on dollars and cents and even the fragile talk on politics; gone the companionship on our short trips exploring the world around us; gone getting to know our 2 new grandchildren together.

On these I could adjust. Bob had been a good provider. He was a skilled day stock trader and a respected consultant for non-profit management. I didn’t have to work. My limited tech skills would have closed the door on exciting jobs. So I volunteered my time as a hostess in the local museum that told the stories of the Woodland Indians that 1000 years ago had a village on the site of our town. It was pleasant but it didn’t sweep the blues away as the day ended and night began.

Not so easy to adjust too was the nights of aloneness, the silence of the house that enveloped me, the loss warmth of his body under our down comforter that touched my soul.

Forget-me-not, I wouldn’t. But I didn’t want to spend 25 more lonely night years with only a cat curled next to me. Was I ready to move on from the tragedy that engulfed me on a grey winter night three years ago?

Alice, my best friend since elementary school had left me the Bottle of Merlot beside me with a note

“Spring has sprung and it is time for you too”!

She was determined to move me away from lonesome nights.

Alice owned a flower shop and was a natural nurturer. She was on her third husband, Newt, the wearer of the Bow Tie that seemed strange to me given her disposition. I wondered how long she would keep him, nuturing him to new delights until he was unleashed to meet the world again.?

What was I missing? Was their truth in opposites attract?

I wasn’t like Alice with male relationships. I had treasured permanence in the growth of a relationship through rocky times together.

“Okay” I finally said. “I will go to dinner with you and Newt and a blind date of your choosing but I am driving my car and will meet you at your favorite restaurant on the Bay with the Sunset view so I have the independence to scurry away”.

Alice nodded and just smiled.

I didn’t know what men of 50 on a blind date expected but I was pretty sure it wasn’t just a meal. And given Alice’s reputation for sport...well you know. I didn’t think she would pick an older man with stooped shoulders but given the somewhat stern face Newt of the Bow tie I couldn’t be sure.

I needed someone a little more adventurous than my comfortable forget-me-not Bob. A clone would not knock the blues away only deepen them in the memories of what I had lost.

I sipped my Merlot slowly savoring its taste and thought of my first crush. I was 12 and in 6th grade and blond haired athletic, sparkling eyed Arch made my heart go pitty-pat.He had enough arrogance to exude confidence. And in class talk a sense of humor. He never noticed me. Except at recess when our class engaged in Greek dodge ball. He knocked everyone out with a laugh that delighted me. Athletic and flexible too, I evaded his throws and was usually the last girl standing. After recess he went to his desk in the back corner of the room. Nary a casual Hello or a curious bike ride down my street ever occurred. We were 12.

When I moved on to 7th grade I lost track of him. I wonder what ever became of my first crush with the sparkling eyes and sense of humor?

Two days later. The clock was ticking down. It was time to drive across the Bay Bridge to Alice’s favorite restaurant on the waterfront to view the soon to be setting sun. I was nervous. I had selected a modest blue dress with pearls. Weren’t pearls always a safe choice for a first impression.?

Alice would have selected more cleavage and a fancy broach to accentuate the same. But Alice and I were different and I thought about her latest male beau of the bowed tie. He didn’t seem like a cleavage guy though advice to the lovelorn said all men were cleavage guys. I suspected Newt had a strength Alice needed and he would be with her for life. Oh well. First impressions or not I wasn’t accentuating an invitation for a come on. Modesty was my aim in this first encounter in the middle aged dating game.

Sky-blue modest dressed me headed off in my Ford Escape and headed for the Sunset rendezvous. Valet parked, I announced myself to the hostess who escorted me to a water view table of three. Alice stood and directed her gaze to the man across the table who also stood. “Molly Newsome please meet Arch Campbell. Arch owns a Daffodil farm and several thoroughbred racehorse horses here on the Shore.” I looked at Arch of the sparkling eyes. My knees trembled. I extended my hand. I hoped my voice would be calm. “ Hello Arch. 40 years. It is a while since we last met. Remember me? I was the last girl standing in our games Of dodge ball way back in sixth grade”.

Perhaps more cleavage would have been a better choice.