First Date With Merlot

Sometimes love is blind and causes one to fall. Sometimes love is late, but somehow, still on time. Sometimes love is rich with flavorful detail, constructing, connecting one boldly to a brand-new awareness, like drinking a glass of Bright Cellars merlot. Unexpected, unpredictable, but always welcomed.

Of all the days to be stood up, today was the triple chocolate cake. My morning meeting with a gallery representative turned into an argument over the direction my art was going in. I didn’t get a grant that I was counting on for school, so my next semester was up in the air. My car’s engine stopped working on the way to the restaurant. I had to get it towed. As my layers of frustration mounted up, I left the area where my car broke down and walked the rest of the way to here. And I’ve been here, at Dobbins Restaurant, for almost an hour with no call from my date Lena.

“She’ll come,” said the gracious old Jamaican man who owned the restaurant.

I was getting depressed and bitter as I waited. “May I use your phone?” I grumbled. “My battery died and my charger is in my car that got towed.”

“Seckle down, bruhda. She soon come,” he wisely said with a heavy accent. He smiled kindly at me. “De phone is ova dere, pon da counter.”

I walked over to where the phone was and called the number she gave me. If this is a wrong number, I swear…

“Hello? Is this you, Sammy? I’m so sorry that I am running late. We had a last-minute staff meeting that I couldn’t get out of. I’m on my way!” Lena rushed the words out. “Please stay at the restaurant. I’m going to be there in a few minutes!”

“Ok…I’ll stay,” I said, calming down.

Her voice was soothing. I had enjoyed hearing it in the evenings for two weeks, leading up to this date. We met at the gallery where I had the earlier disagreement with the art rep. We connected through a mutual friend who told her about my artwork. Lena wanted a portrait painted of her grandmother. We exchanged numbers and started discussing the details of this project. The nature of our discussions started to change from business to personal through mutual understandings and lots of laughter. I have always loved the Caribbean food at Dobbins, so I invited her to come to the restaurant.

“Why are you using this number?” she asked. “You have my personal cell…”

“My phone died, and your number is in its contacts. I am using the restaurant’s phone and the number you wrote down for me when we first met,” I replied, happy that I kept it.

“Ok, good, because this is my work phone that I hardly ever use,” she said, walking through the door. She smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re lucky. Normally, it is turned off after my workday.”

I forgot how beautiful she was when we met. I wasn’t looking at her initially with the idea to date, but as I led her to our table, I was glad that we were there together. She looked at me as if she were seeing me for the first time too.

She sat down and asked, “So, Sammy, how old are you?”

In all our conversations, age never came up. I replied, “I am 22. How old are you?”

Lena looked at me intently and shifted a little in her chair. “I’m 31,” she answered.

After an awkward pause, I broke the silence. “I don’t drink Similac anymore,” I joked, passing her the wine list.

Lena smiled and said, “You are really lucky. I normally don’t go out on dates because my schedule is so hectic. And I definitely don’t usually date younger men.”

She paused, assessing everything. “I’m glad that we are here. It felt so comfortable talking with you each day. Almost like we have known each other for a long time. That feeling made me decide to take a chance,” she said, glancing down as if, in that moment, she was naked to me.

I could feel her vulnerability. I wanted her to know that I felt our closeness as well. Instinctively, I reached across the table and softly held her hands. She delicately laced her fingers with mine.

“Thanks for taking the leap,” I said.

The slight unease lifted from our table. The peace and communion of our evening conversations returned. The joy we encountered on that first date has lasted now for almost 22 years. Today, I found myself picking up a bottle of merlot on the way home. Love aged is the finest of wines. Sometimes, I forget how blessed I am. This drink of wonderful life always helps me remember and savor.