The Last First Date

As a waitress for far too long now, Julia had seen her fair share of odd couples, but on a breezy Wednesday afternoon, one had caught her eye. A man in his mid twenties was accompanied by an older woman. She didn’t have striking features like many of the surgeon sculpted faces who frequented the restaurant. Curiously though, it was difficult to gauge her age. Julia could tell she was older by the fine wrinkles that framed her almond shaped eyes and the sparse white hairs on her head that glistened from the chandeliers. More so, her maturity was felt by a serene radiance when she sauntered towards the reception counter and the refined manner in which she spoke. She reminded her of the luminous grace of old Hollywood starlets.

“I have a reservation under Maxwell Haverfield” she spoke softly, as if she held a secret under her tongue. Julia stared at her blankly, hypnotised by her aura. She quickly snapped out of her stupor when she noticed the man’s foot tapping impatiently and lips beginning to purse with displeasure. Frantically scrambling through the reservations books, the words began to blend into one another until they looked liked nothing more than scratchings on a page. The books were withered, hearty and florid, much like Mick, the general manager, who appeared to be the only one who could decipher its contents. She cursed him in her head for pushing her to cover front of house but knew he was stretched thin in this bustling restaurant.

“I have a confirmation of the booking” the man spoke forcefully and in a direct manner, a strike contrast to the woman. He looked intimidatingly immaculate, a pristine black and white suit with a grey tie, dark hair brushed back and not a single strand out of place. She was secretly chuffed to finally see a younger man with an older woman rather than the contrary. Even so, it was incredible the lengths people go through for a slice of fortune. A bead of sweat dropped onto the page as her finger skimmed through the litany of names, desperately searching for the word ‘Haverfield’.

“It’s a table for two” he added swiftly, his stern voice wavering at the end. Strangely, his initial cold indifference turned into something else as he uttered these words. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it sounded like heartache.

“Umm, it should be here…” Julia stammered, hoping someone would save her. The wave of relief when Mick waltzed in the door was insurmountable. He was holding a bottle of Merlot.

“There she is! Mrs Haverfield, come through, how long has it been?” Mick beamed, graciously embracing the lady in open arms.

“A good twenty years, I’d say” she replied as she began walking into the dining room, holding onto Mick’s arm. Her long black dress skimmed the floor as she moved.

Mick shoved the bottle of Merlot into Julia hands whispering into her ear “bring this to the kitchen and cover tables five and six now!” She nodded obediently looking down at the ground. With the bottle in one hand she took a few awkward steps towards the kitchen but tripped uncouthly from her footing. To her horror, the bottle fell to the ground and its lavish crimson contents leaked in slow gulps onto the marble floor. She quickly dropped to her hands and knees, grabbed a cloth from a pocket in her apron and began soaking up the wine.

She could feel the thump of her heart and the heat in her cheeks as Mick muttered “stupid, clumsy girl” under his breath. He then ushered Mrs Haverfield away from the commotion who peered back in concern. Julia glanced up and noticed the patrons at the tables staring at her with disdain, some of them rolling their eyes. She expected to see the man with a similar expression, but to her surprise, he was down on his knees with her wiping the floor with his handkerchief. In shock, she wildly grabbed the bottle from the floor and a few drops splashed on his tie. She was astounded by the extent of her clumsiness.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry! Let me try to fix that” she exclaimed attempting to dab his tie with the cloth. She braced herself for a barrage of complaints. Instead he gently pushed her hand back and the two locked eyes.

“Well, you know that suit needed some character” Julia bravely teased. When he smiled, she noticed a tender kindness in his brown eyes.

“Truth is, I’m not a big fan of this suit, too bland for my liking and you’re right, I think a splash of merlot might give it some flavour”. He quickly stopped grinning after responding as if he committed a crime. Composing himself after getting up, he adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. It was apparent that he hadn’t smiled in a while.

“Well, I’ll be back soon” he mumbled about to rush out the door.

“Don’t leave your date for too long” she replied, nervously cradling the cloth heavy with wine in her hands. He appeared puzzled for a moment before leaving the restaurant.

After cleaning up, Julia jetted to table five where a gentleman wearing a flashy leather jacket was prattling on his phone.

“Yep, she’s super hot” he remarked “definitely gonna take this one home, gotta go man, she’s coming”. He slid his phone back into his pocket. A tall slender blonde lady with sultry eyes walked from the bathroom, lips as red as the spilt merlot. Julia tightened her apron slightly and looked down to see her lower stomach bulging. It reminded her that she could do with loosing a few pounds. As she refilled the couple’s glasses, she imagined being the blonde lady for a moment, beautiful and revered by the world.

She was quickly distracted by Mrs Haverfield sitting alone at table six who appeared to be enjoying a conversation with herself. Julia walked over piqued with curiosity.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Ah yes, perhaps what’s left of that Merlot, my husband’s favourite, two glasses please!”

The waitress blushed in embarrassment.

“When is your husband coming back? It’s been a little while” Julia enquired as she poured the two glasses, looking at the entrance for the man in the suit.

“Oh my husband’s always here, we’re on our first date today” Mrs Haverfield stared contently at the adjacent chair.

Julia was perplexed, what was she looking at?

“I was a waitress just like you twenty years ago and I met my husband here. He asked me what drink would go with the filet mignon. When I recommended the Merlot, he disagreed with me. The nerve of the man! Funny thing is he came in every week afterwards requesting the Merlot. He said it grew on him”. Julia had so many questions but was distracted by a message on her watch. Her tinder date cancelled again.

“What is it dear?” Mrs Haverfield had noticed her disappointment. Of her limited skills, a poker face was definitely not one of them. She contemplated divulging her thoughts to a stranger and in a moment of vulnerability or perhaps the sanctuary of the Mrs Haverfield’s nurturing tone, she asked “how do I become the girl who you fall in love with in first sight?” She looked longingly at the blonde lady at table five.

“Of course you can’t be who you’re not” Mrs Haverfield exclaimed. Julia had not expected the directness of her response. She quietly succumbed to her regret in asking and felt her heart sink to her stomach.

“But neither am I” she continued, “we’re the type of people who you grow to love with and then love forever, much like a glass of Merlot” She smiled as she took the glass and inhaled its deep aroma before taking a sip.

“Ready to go grandma, we’re going to be late” the man in the suit interrupted, appearing suddenly behind Julia.

“Perhaps we should darling” Mrs Haverfield was weary, standing slowly from her chair. She fumbled in her purse and left a hefty tip on the table.

“Thank you for entertaining her” he whispered to Julia who looked pale and stunned.

“Wait” she was finally able to muster up some words before they both turned to leave.

“You should really try to cover the Merlot stain on your tie”

“It’s okay” he replied “its kinda growing on me”. He flashed that warm smile again, melting her heart.

Julia watched as he escorted his grandmother out the restaurant.

She began clearing the table when she noticed a card left behind. She grabbed it in a frenzy hoping to catch up to them before seeing they were long gone. She opened the card.

‘Memorial Service: In loving memory of Maxwell John Haverfield: December 15th 1945 - March 25th 2021; Please join us in honouring Max’s life’.

Julia looked adoringly at the portrait of an elderly gentleman.

He had the same warm smile.