Coming Full Circle

I pulled up in the parking lot of the steakhouse, parking at the far end of the parking lot. I had arrived for my date far too early, pretty strange for me since I’m usually on time or slightly late any other time. It was 6:45, and we were to meet at 7. I knew it had to be dating jitters. Not just because it was a first date with a new guy, but my first date in over a year.

My view from the driver’s seat allowed me to see practically everyone come and go. It might be sneaky, but I felt better about being able to watch my date arrive from a distance, and I knew I wouldn’t get out and go inside until I saw him. If I never saw him, I could just leave and go home. That to me was better than waiting inside, sipping on glass after glass of Merlot, for him never to show up.

After what happened last year, the fear of getting stood up loomed larger than ever, and I was determined never to deal with that again.

I rolled down my window, allowing the April air into my black Rav4, and took a deep breath. I looked in the rearview mirror at myself, at my auburn curls framing my mahogany face and gracing my shoulders, my gold hoop earrings glistening in the fading sun rays.

“You’ve got this,” I said out loud, and seeing that the time was approaching 7, I scanned the parking lot looking for my date, who I hadn’t seen so far.

And then I saw him. Approaching the front door of the restaurant. Chris must have entered the parking lot from the back entrance and parked on the other side. In any case, he was here and it was showtime.

Even from a distance, he was one handsome man. I already knew that. I had known him for years but up until tonight, we had never been on a date with each other.

And so I watched this tall specimen of fineness in a black T-shirt and well-fitting jeans, stroll into the steakhouse. He had that walk like he owned the place. His self-assured manner contrasted with my anxiety.

I told myself to stay cool, but it wasn’t working. I just knew I had to get out and go inside. It’s only dinner with an acquaintance, I told myself. And he was here, he didn’t stand me up, so this date was going to happen after all. I nervously put on another coat of lip gloss and said a silent prayer, exiting my vehicle and telling myself I looked just fine in my low-cut, red blouse, skinny jeans and strappy sandals. Perfect for a first date on a Tuesday night.

At the last second, I reached for my sunglasses inside my handbag and put them on. I called them my “movie-star sunglasses” and even if sunset was approaching, they would hide my nerves and give me some kind of flair.

I strolled to the front door, trying not to move too fast and look too eager, just in case Chris was watching me from inside. The thought that he might secretly be just as anxious as I, was amusing and reassuring at the same time.

And then the front door was pushed open from the inside, and Chris stood there, holding the door for me, with the biggest smile. A great, megawatt smile, the kind that charmed you and put you at ease. I immediately felt myself relax and start smiling too as I entered the restaurant and into Chris’s strong bear hug.

“Brittany, Brittany, Brittany.” Chris’s warm baritone welcomed me as he said my name over and over again while hugging me. I felt my jitters fading away, replaced by the newfound assurance that this was going to be a good evening.

“It’s good to see you again,” he whispered in my ear as he loosened his grip and straightened up. I gazed up at him and this time it was my turn to smile from ear to ear.

“Same here,” I answered back. “Very good to see you.”

I looked up at this six-foot-five bearded man with a shaved head, his complexion a mix between caramel and chocolate, who was still smiling at me. For a quick second, it crossed my mind this just might be my next boyfriend, but just as quickly came the thought, Girl, slow your roll. You just got here.

The hostess, who had been standing politely nearby while Chris and I greeted each other, escorted us to a booth. The sounds of 80s music—Madonna and Duran Duran—blared through the speakers but still allowed for conversation.

Sitting across from me, Chris casually asked me, “So, whatcha been up to?”

And so we made small talk, him talking about his promotion at the law firm, me talking about my new boutique. The server came along and took our drink orders. I ordered a glass of Merlot. Chris started to order a beer, then changed his mind and ordered a glass of Merlot for himself.

“So it looks like we’ve done pretty well,” I blurted out. “Considering.” I looked down at my table, suddenly feeling a new wave of discomfort.

Chris’s strong, masculine hand reached across the table for my hand and looked into my eyes.

“And I’m doing much better, now that I’m here with you tonight,” Chris said reassuringly. “That other stuff from the past, that’s so last year.”

That other stuff from the past. A simple sentence to describe a day that started beautifully and ended in disaster for both of us. My wedding day. A wedding that never happened. My fiancé, the groom, ran off with my best friend, the maid of honor, and never showed up to the wedding. My so-called best friend was engaged to the best man. My fiance’s best friend. Chris.

The groom and the maid of honor weren’t answering their phones. Besides being obvious cowards, there was another good reason for them not to respond. While driving to the beach, they collided with a tractor trailer and were killed instantly. Based on their location, he must have been taking her to the Hilton Head honeymoon resort where we were going to stay for a week. They were only 10 minutes from the resort.

Did they get what they deserved? Did Karma really get them? Did they reap what they sowed?

Memories came flooding back to me and I decided none of them mattered in this moment. What mattered was that Chris had reached out to me on social media a couple of weeks ago, just to say hello, and I was happy to hear from him. After all, he was a good guy and we’d both had a pretty rough year. When he asked me out to dinner, I accepted without hesitation. Why not? I told myself it was time to get back out there. Given the betrayal that had taken place, it didn’t seem wrong to be on a date with my former fiance’s best friend.

It felt totally right to me. It must have felt right to him too.

The server brought our glasses of wine, and Chris suggested a toast.

“Here’s to ‘that other stuff from the past,’ “ he said. “Because they made it possible for us to be here tonight. New beginnings.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I answered, as we clinked our glasses. Chris swirled the dark, full-bodied wine in his glass for a moment before taking it all in. In the meantime, I started sipping right after the toast, craving the wine buzz to enhance this moment.

Any remaining pangs of anxiety faded away with each sip of Merlot, and for the first time in a long time, I really felt everything come full circle. When we kissed goodnight a few hours later under the moonlight, it was evident the toast Chris made earlier was true.

But what Chris didn’t know was……he was the one I really wanted from the very start. And now he was finally going to be mine.