Third Time Is A Charm?

It has been 16 years since my husband died. I haven’t dated because our son needed me more, plus I felt so broken that I didn’t think anyone deserved to deal with my hot mess. Then, I got so used to being alone that I had no idea how to flirt or sadly, even recognize when someone was flirting with me. Even worse, what is this thing called dating people talk about?

My big mistake was telling my sister-in-law, Elayna, who has been more like a sister from the day we met, that I might be open to meeting someone. She took it upon herself to find me a new man. Her idea of a perfect man and mine seemed to differ a bit. However, we did marry brothers so maybe not so far off after all.

The idea that you have to kiss a few frogs to find a prince seemed appropriate for the experience that followed. The first guy was more interested in bragging about his great life than anything I had to say. In fact, he seemed to prefer if I just smiled and nodded but didn’t speak. The next guy, started crying over his ex and didn’t stop the whole evening.

Third time is the charm, right? I certainly hope so. Otherwise, it might be time to go back to living la vida nun.

I’m much more of a dress for comfort kind of person, but was told that wasn’t an option for this date because he is perfect for me. Since it’s a small town, jeans are perfectly fine for dates. Jeans, a nice top, and hair down but pulled back from my face.

I entered the restaurant and took a seat at the bar. The bartender approaches and asks with a smile, “What can I get you?”

“Some liquid courage, please,” I respond.

With a chuckle, he asks, “what flavor?”

“A glass of Merlot should do it,” I tell him.

He fills the glass a little more than usual and puts it down in front of me. “Blind date?” he asks.

“That evident, huh?” I respond as I pick up the glass to take a drink. He smiles and moves on to the next customer.

I’m always early because I hate to make others wait for me. Apparently, the guy that just walked in feels the same way. He grabs a seat a couple of chairs away from me. He motions to the bartender and asks for something to take the edge off the nerves before his date arrives. Tells the bartender how much he hates blind dates, but the lady at work said this would be good for him.

The bartender asks him, “What is the name of your blind date or how will you know her?”

He responds, “her name is Kate and she has long brown hair.”

The bartender looks at me, then back at him, and directs the question to me, “are you Kate?”

“Guilty,” I respond. “That makes you Liam, doesn’t it?” I ask looking at the guy a couple of seats away with the dark hair and beautiful green eyes framed by long dark lashes.

“You love being fixed up as much as I do it seems,” he says with a charming smile. “How about we share a table and leave the pressure of a ‘blind date’ at the bar?” he asks.

“Deal. Quick rundown from Elayna – you’re from corporate in Boston, with the accent, I’d guess not a native there, single, and only here for a short time,” I mention as we move to a table in the bar away from others so we can talk.

“All true. I’m from Galway originally. Moved to Boston a few years ago. Elayna’s description of you – smart, sassy, a good Mum, widow so no crazy ex, who sells yourself short all the time, and if I hurt you, they’ll never find my body,” he says with a chuckle. I laugh along, but know Elayna wasn’t entirely joking.

We finish our first drink and never stop talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. We finally order dinner and it gets cold because the conversation moves from family to work, then on to hobbies, sports, and then the taboo topics of religion and politics. They blink the lights at us because we’ve been there talking for hours and they all want to go home.

“I think they’re trying to get rid of us,” I say with an embarrassed smile.

“We should probably move along,” he says with a bit of reluctance I thought.

I’m going to be bold, which is outside my comfort zone, but deep breath and here goes, “I’m not ready to call it a night yet. How about you?” I’m sure the look on my face reflected my nervous terror at putting myself out there instead of the confidence I was pretending to project.

He smiles and looks rather relieved as he responds, “I’m not either. I’d invite you back to my place, but don’t think it’s appropriate to take you to a hotel on the first date. You’re not that sort of lady. Any suggestions as to where we could continue talking since you have home court advantage.”

“How about the park? It’s just down the road. We can stay in the car or go sit on a bench,” I tell him. “Since you’re staying at the hotel next door, I’m guessing you walked over?” He nods and I continue, “I can drive if you like.”

“Sounds good. Lead the way,” he says.

We drive to the park and since it’s a bit chilly outside, we stay in the car and talk. I love his accent so I keep asking open questions just to hear him. He’s the most interesting man I’ve met in years and I’m completely enjoying myself. I’ve never been one for small talk so a man who can hold up his end of a conversation and keep it going for hours is my idea of a dream date.

Luckily, it was a Friday night, well Saturday morning by this point. I didn’t have to work the next day, but wasn’t sure about him. Just as that thought crossed my mind, it was like I’d said it out loud. He says, “I should probably get some sleep. Since I’m just visiting and evaluating this location, I should probably get some work done even on a Saturday. This has been the best blind date I’ve ever had and hope we can see each other again soon.” He seems hopeful, but unsure of my response.

I let out a sigh of relief when he asks for a second date and say, “I’d love to. Maybe I can cook for you next time. What homecooked meal would you like? Haven’t done much Irish cooking, but I’ll give it shot if you’d like.”

He smiles and says, “I can get Irish cooking in Boston. How about you make your favorite dish instead.”

“Any food allergies I need to be aware of or things you don’t like?” I ask.

“No allergies and I’ll eat anything. My Mum and Nan made sure of that,” he said with a smile.

“When would you like to come over,” I ask hoping he says this weekend.

“Unfortunately, the guys at work have my dinners planned the rest of the weekend. Making sure the out-of-towner isn’t lonely. Would Monday work for you?” he says.

“Monday is great. I’ll have it ready around 6:30?” I say with a question wondering if the time works.

“That’ll give me plenty of time to get finished with work, shower the day off, and get to your place once you give me the address. I’ll bring a bottle of Merlot if that will work with dinner,” Liam says.

“It sounds good. I can text you the address if you’re ok giving me your number,” I say hopefully.

He pulls out his phone and asks for my number so he can text me first.

We depart the park and I drive him back to his hotel. He’s a little quiet as we drive. We arrive at the hotel and I’m wondering if he’s already changed his mind when he breaks the silence.

“I’m not sure where you stand on kissing on a first date, but I’ve wanted to since we left the restaurant. May I kiss you goodnight without offending you?” he blurts out in a nervous manner.

Without responding, I lean in to kiss him. Expecting awkward because it’s been so long since I kissed anyone, but happily surprised when it all felt so right with butterflies and fireworks all at the same time.

Reluctantly, he exits the car, but before he closes the door, he says, “I can’t wait to see you again. Is it ok if I text you until I see you again?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t. Sweet dreams, Liam,” I say as he closes the door.

He slowly walks towards the hotel entrance and I sit stunned at how amazing the evening was. He stops before entering and blows me a kiss.

A perfect end to my dream date.