One last date

It had been her favorite diner for most of the last few decades, but she knew this would be her last time inside.

Her usual server Bob approached her table at the rear of the room. The sunlight didn’t make it that far back, so the space was always annoyingly bright. And so was Bob, whose tawdry diner uniform belied his chipper tone.

“My darling, Zissel. Is that another slice done?”

“Get me another martini. And gimme a slice of the Red Velvet Cake this time.”

“Zissel! You know I have to tell you that this much cake is not good for anybody, least of all somebody with your...advanced age and proclivities.”

“I’m not long for this world, Bob. If I want to eat cake, then I’m gonna eat cake.”

“There you go with your darkness again,” Bob said, before spinning around and marching off to fulfil the order.

Zissel sat in silence for a moment. She looked around the diner; a young goth couple eating burgers, a couple of old Jewish guys having coffee, a handsome middle-aged guy with a salad. For her last trip to the diner she was wearing Loubitins, a Versace dress, and a Gucci scarf. She pulled a little black notebook from her Hermes Birkin Bag and looked down.

Key Lime Pie

Chocolate Brownie

Pound Cake

Red Velvet Cake

Carrot Cake

“Two more.”

* * *

“Where’d you meet her?”

“Work.”

“What’s she got?”

“Cancer. Only a few months left.”

“Her family?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t seem like she had much family. She did look rich though. Gucci scarf and shit.”

“Why is she talking to the janitor? And why she want you meeting her?”

“She has something she wants my help with. Said it would be worth my while and then she started doing that finger thing. You know? The money finger thing?”

Reggie mimicked the movement. He’d been friends with Max for most of his young life, but had never done that to him before, he thought. He figured that made the story more believable. Reggie pulled out his phone and looked down at it for a while.

“Plus I am like half a paycheck away from having no money at all in this world, so I’m at least gonna go hear the woman out.”

Max nodded approvingly, before his brow suddenly furrowed.

“It ain’t a weird sex thing is it?”

“Nah man, what you talkin about. She’s like 90 years old. She dying. How she gonna have the energy for all that? Her instructions were very simple. Meet her under the statue of George Washington in Union Square and walk her through the village to the IFC to watch a movie. Then we go our separate ways.”

* * *

Zissel was sitting in Washington Square Park, eating an everything bagel with cream cheese. She looked over at a woman trying to teach her dog to shake. About halfway through the bagel, she decided she was full. She pulled out her notebook.

Everything bagel.

General Tso’s Chicken.

“Looks like it is gonna be Chinese for dinner.”

Zissel stood up and made her way through the arch at the bottom of Fifth Ave. She continued up toward Union Square, looking down the side streets, smiling at their quietness amid the bustling city.

She spotted a hot dog vendor and made a pit stop to get some more food.

“You better make that two,” she said to the vendor.

* * *

Reggie was watching a game of chess in Union Square, right by the statue of George Washington. He knew he would recognize Zissel when she arrived, so he didn’t care too much for standing under the statue and waiting. The chess match came to a rapid close, losing one of the participants $20. Reggie thought about learning chess and coming back, but the repayment on investment would take too long.

Zissel must have seen him before he had the chance to see her, approaching him and thrusting a hot dog into his chest just after the game finished.

“I got this for you. I didn’t know if you would be hungry or not?”

“Oh hey. Thanks, yeah. I guess I could eat.”

He took the hot dog.

“I love to eat,” Zissel said, taking her first bite. “Shall we walk?”

“Sure, this is your day, isn’t it. Which, actually, how much do I stand to make here? Also it is just us walking to the cinema and watching a film, right? That’s all you want. And you are gonna pay me?”

“Question, questions. Let’s go.”

* * *

Zissel’s arm was linked through Reggie’s, while he guided her through the West Village. His face was a mixture of bemused and embarrassed as the looks from others became more frequent. He knew why it looked weird, an old white lady, stylishly dressed, being walked around by a black man in his teens. But he kept on, thinking again about the way she rubbed her fingers together when they first met. He tried to listen as intently as possible, as Zissel poured through major life events.

He liked to hear her stories, he thought. She had had time to think about this, which stories to tell, he thought. She also had a lot to say and he tried to remember the insights, the moral lessons, rather than the details.

“But he passed a few years ago now, unfortunately,” Zissel said, coming to the end of another anecdote.

“I’m sorry to hear.”

“And it will be my turn soon.”

“You seem pretty relaxed about it all.”

“Yeah. I mean, mostly I am eating things.”

“Like normal things?”

“Yes normal things. Like my favorite foods from my life. I got General Tso’s for dinner.”

“Nice.”

“I feel like Tarrare. Did you ever hear of Tarrare?”

“No.”

“He was this guy in France like a hundred years ago. He was constantly hungry and was famous for being able to eat so much food. He could just eat and eat and eat. I sometimes wish I could do that. Do you?”

“Not really.”

“You’re pretty quiet.”

“Yeah, well I guess I am worried about all this. Like my friend put an idea in my head and I think I am gonna just have to come out and say it.”

“By all means.”

“This isn’t a sex thing, is it?”

“No. It wasn’t that common back in those days, to have sex on the first date.”

Reggie suddenly glances across concerned.

“I didn’t agree to a date.”

“I know. What movie should we watch?”

“I don’t think I follow?”

“I am trying to recreate some of my favorite things. My favorite meals. Visit my favorite places. And relive my first date with my husband. You looked like my husband, you see. When he was young. I thought you would be the perfect person to take me around.”

Reggie smiled at the sentiment. It made him feel good that he could substitute in for someone and make an old lady feel whole, without really offering anything of himself. That could help her, without really doing anything. He pulled Zissel in closer.

“We could see the new Ava Duverney one. I hear it is pretty good,” Reggie offered, starting to lean into the task and walking onward toward the theater. .

“I like her, that would be nice.”

* * *

The small foyer at IFC was empty and dark. Zissel smiled as she walked in.

“You gettin the tickets?” Reggie asked.

“That isn’t how it happened. My husband bought the tickets.”

Reggie looked annoyed. The tickets would be expensive, not to mention the popcorn and soda. Manhattan prices he thought.

“That’s a bit old fashioned now,” he offered.

“I know. But that is what happened on my first date.”

Zissel reached into her Birkin Bag and pulled out a wad of cash. Reggie looked down, awed.

“Here you are. That is twenty thousand.”

“Are you? What?”

“That should cover the tickets? And popcorn I would have thought. The rest you can take as a thankyou for spending an afternoon with a lonely old lady. Making me smile again for the first time in a while.”