Mountain High

Callie and I were still cautiously choosing our topics of discussion as we passed the 5,200-foot marker and drove into the "downtown" area of Idyllwild. I guess calling it downtown would be an injustice. Looking around, we slowly drove through the area looking for a place to eat; I found it to be a rustic oasis sitting in the shadow of tall mountains.

A peaceful and quiet village appeared before us, beautiful; scenery and endless trails seem to wander forever through meadows and scented pine forests. Scattered about were little shops and galleries that displayed handmade items from local artists and no fast-food franchises, to my surprise and delight. The restaurants we passed seem to cover the gambit from fine dining to quick snacks.

Heck, there wasn't even a traffic light in the entire little town.

The place may me feel myself again. The nerves I found to actually ask Callie out vanished as quickly as they came, or perhaps it was the scent of her perfume, which had broken down my resolve as soon as she sat down in the car. In either case, I suddenly felt tongue-tied like some foolish teenager.

I glanced over at the seat next to me. Was all this a dream…I shook my head and looked again; she was actually there, and my heart, my pulse, race with nervous excitement.

I turned to Callie and said softly, "Honey, what do you say we just park anywhere and walk around while we make up our minds on where to eat? Okay?

Callie turned her head, her lavender eyes sparkled with amusement, 'Honey huh! Kind of fast, this being our first date and all."

I…ah…blood drained from my face,

Callie smiled, and uttering a chuckle, leaned over and planted a light kiss on my cheek. "Honey," she repeated as if weighing the word. She nodded her head…Ya, I like it…Honey, it is!

Oh! God, it felt so good to start breathing again.

Suddenly, her attention shifted; Michael, there she exclaimed, pointing, there's a place to park.

I pulled in, shifted the gear into park, and turned off the engine.

We sat there for a moment, not saying anything. Our minds…our thoughts, were either far apart or together on some mysterious journey, just soaking in the quiet picturesque setting. One couldn't ask for a better place for a first date.

I can't recall what I was thinking. I lost it the moment I heard the sound of a clip being slammed into place. I turned towards the sound and watched Callie's finger click the safety lever down before shoving the weapon back into its holster.

Noticing that I was watching her, she locked her eyes onto mine, paused for a moment, studying my reaction; her head slowly nodded as if I somehow passed some test, and then simply spoke. "Ready?"

I exhaled, my thoughts all haphazard, but smiling, I replied, Yes, let's go!

We started walking along the sidewalk, stopping at times to look through the various boutiques' windows. Somewhere along the way, not sure who initiated it, we started holding hands, talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company.

Looking back, perhaps she was interrogating me. I don't even recall what she asked me. I just remember her squeezing my hand from time to time.

God! The scent of her perfume was intoxicating.

Finally, we came across a quaint Italian restaurant; the aromas which drifted out the door made our mouths water, so we went inside.

The restaurant was a lot larger than it appeared from the street. Ivy-type plants clung to rusty red brick walls, Old reused barn wood covered the floor. A fire danced within a stone fireplace that took up most of one wall. Open Doors to a garden patio beckon us from across the room. 8 to 10 people were sitting at tables. Sinatra was singing Summer wind through hidden speakers, and candlelight lit up the tables; the shadows from there flames appeared to dance along to the music.

I felt Callie's eyes on me, and I smiled back at her, my hand touching the small of her back.

What we said to each other went unspoken, but it was a very romantic place indeed.

A young dark-haired woman dress in floor-length peasant dress with puffed sleeves and low cleavage walked up to the small desk where we were standing, smiled, and greeted us in a soft velvet Italian voice.

"Good Evening, my name is Marie; welcome to Tuscany Gardens. Would you like a table for two tonight?"

Yes, thank you, Marie," I said, smiling.

Marie smile, her eyes sweeping, "Please follow me."

Callie elbow me in the ribs and muttered under her breath, "Down Tiger."

We arrived at our table; Marie laid down two menus as I pulled the chair out for Callie. I leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I'm shocked, just shocked, I tell you. Don't know what you mean."

Callie glanced across at me as I sat down. "Yeah, well, I'm staking my claim just the same. You're mine; remember that all mine!"

"Honey, that is one thing you never have to worry about!

Callie reached over and pattered the outside of her blazer she was wearing, where her gun was concealed, smiled sweetly at me.

I know!

My eyes grew larger as if in shock, and she started laughing so loud that some of the guests turned and stared at us.

I think now would be an excellent time to bury our heads in the menu, I said.

Seeing the attention we were receiving, she smiled and whispered," good idea."

Marie came back just in time and asked if we would like to order drinks first.

We ordered a bottle of Sonoma County Merlot, and when the wine steward came over with our bottle, He expertly popped the cork, poured a little in a taster, and handed it to me to approve.

Callie watches with clear amusement showing on her face; I was sure she was going to start laughing again. I forced my eyes to look away as I tasted and nodded my approval. The steward poured us each a glass, putting the bottle on the table, and left.

"Oh! so cosmopolitan," She cooed.

I did my best head dance, bobbing side to side while pretending to roll the ends of my mustache. Then, in a very embarrassing Italian accent,

"Ma Certo,lSigno'rina. Mi Fai avere fame Certo, A'mare."

After a few more minutes of such verbal give and take, Marie came back, and we placed our orders.

"So, Michael," Callie asked conversationally; I noticed the look when I checked my gun in the car. Is that…will my job become a problem for you? She was biting her lower lip, her eyes darting, watching every move, every impression I made. She was a trained investigator.

Gone was the essence of her perfume, the feel of her hand in mine, the way my heart pounded each time she gave me that look that, like breathing, I just could not get enough of.

The question ... she asked so nonchalantly was not something that suddenly popped in her mind. It was the wall between this date being the first of many or the ending of what I had only envisioned during the cold lonely nights.

Until now, I refused to think why such a warm beautiful woman would be free, available, and willing to date someone, someone like me. I never considered myself unique or some great catch, and I must admit that meeting her at Starbucks most mornings, I started fantasizing about her. It was interfering with work, and without even knowing I was doing it, I asked her out and almost spilled my coffee when she said yes.

"Michael," her voice came through the fog of my thoughts.

"Michael," she repeated, her voice sadden. Her eyes met mine, the sparkle the laugher was gone.

I reached across the table and took her hand.

"Honey," I began, seeing the briefest of a spark in her eyes. Our eyes locked. Her's, searching mine and mine…well, mine was saying how I felt. About her…about us. What she did for a living, and my acceptance of it was necessary, but I didn't think it would come up so soon. I made a promise to talk to her about it before the night was through, but not here, not now.

"Honey, I asked you out. I was aware of your job. I didn't ask you out because of it or despite it. I think I understand why you're asking, and I'm open to discussing it a bit later."

Callie's eyes stayed on me, her head nodding in understanding.

"I bet I can make you an offer you can't refuse" She spoke softly, mischievously,

I started to reply, and then realizing what she meant, I sat there, my mouth open. She saw the look on my face and started laughing so hard, tears rolled down her cheeks.

I was saved by the timely arrival of dinner.

Afterward, we sat there, talking, laughing, and sharing stories as we finished off our second bottle of Merlot.

As I poured the last of the wine into her glass, she tilted her head, giving me that come hither look. There was a new smile on her face—the kind saved for a special someone.

"Ah! Michael, her voice staggered, "So, what your saying is that you asked me out because you like me!"

"It wasn't just to get me drunk?" She giggled.

The wine was interfering with my attempt to form a suitable reply.

"I…well…I...You know…"

"Michael are you trying to get me drunk," she asked in that little girl's innocent voice.

I was finding out how much she liked to tease.

"Are you trying to take advantage of little ole me?" She added in a more seductive tone.

"The thoughts did cross my mind," the wine muddling my reply.

Her head bobbed back and forth; she never lost her smile even when she giggled at whatever she was thinking.

"I think we, ah, better go."

We left the restaurant through the patio doors and stepped into a soft twilight evening. Michael Bublé's rendition of Save the last for me floated from the ivy-covered walls. Suddenly Callie was in my arms; our bodies became one as we danced to the music. Our eyes spoke for us, and our lips met.

At some point, we walked across the street and continued our window shopping that dinner interrupted earlier. The warm night breezes swept over us as we moved along, holding each other more for support than anything else.

The stroll back to the car was just a memory; we got in and found the most important thing that two people could find on a first date.

We found each other!