Marisol: Passion in Bloom

Tom first bent at the waist and kissed her hand just once, then took it in his own to assist her up out of her chair. He looked at her with a sudden twinge of apprehension. "I hope Milady forgives her errant knight for taking the liberty of kissing her hand without first obtaining permission." The sad eyes he beamed at her were calculated to win her over. It worked, though Mari wouldn't have minded him kissing her hand in the first place.

"I'll forgive you this once, good knight, but henceforth I'll expect you not to forget your place again. I can't have every stray knight running up and kissing my hands unannounced, now can I?"

"Of course not, Milady. Again, you have my profoundest apologies. It will not happen again." He smiled.

Almost giggling, Mari replied with mock snootiness, "See that it doesn't."

Talking and laughing, together they walked toward the mall exit which led to the parking lot where Tom's car was parked. They chatted about mundane things along the way. But, when they got to his car, and he opened the passenger side door for her, he lifted her hand up again and held it near his lips. "May I?" he asked.

Mari tingled again, but at first played hard to get. She looked at him as if she was mulling over his request, thought in reality she'd made up her mind the instant he'd brought her hand to his lips. "Very proper of you, Sir Knight," she said, "You may kiss my hand."

He bowed reverently and touched his lips to the first knuckles of each finger, kissing all five, one by one, including her thumb. "Thank you, Milady," he said, smiling. "And now, your chariot awaits. We must off to the...uh....local...quaint...um...talking place!"

"You nut," Mari laughed as she seated herself in the car, Chuckling, Tom took her bags from her and stashed them on the floor behind the passenger seat, closed the door after her and went around to the driver's side. As he sat down, Mari looked at his silhouetted profile with the parking lot light illuminating him from the side for a moment. A kind, gentle face - what she could see of it in the dark. When he finally turned to face her, trustworthy blue eyes twinkled in the overhead light. She wasn't sure if he was a knight or a rogue - or, more likely, a charming blend thereof - but he certainly seemed like he'd be fun at either role. She liked him. She felt comfortable with him. And, dammit, if he was as incredible as he seemed to be, she was going to try her best to get to know him better. Oh, and let's not forget that foot rub. If she had anything to say about things, she was somehow going to get her feet into his lap for his hands to soothe and pamper. Yessir!...that was definitely on her agenda! That brief taste of his strong fingers on her foot earlier would be just the tip of the iceberg if she had HER way!

Tom smiled over at her, almost as if he could read her thoughts. "C'mon," he said, "let's go have that talk, shall we?"

"Drive on, Sir Knight," she replied, an expectant tingle radiating from just behind her navel outward, energizing her to the very tips of her fingers and toes.

---------------------------

"I've always liked the atmosphere of this place," Tom said as he pulled his car into the small parking lot. The bright headlight's flashed along the side of what appeared to be a log home.

"The Woodkeeper's Inn?" Mari asked, reading the overhead sign. "It does sound quaint."

"It is," Tom replied. "It was built over a century ago. It's been handed down through several generations of the family that originally built it. For the last fifty years or so it's been a sort of restaurant/coffee shop. They have every flavor of coffee imaginable, as well as some of the best home cooking on the East coast. Not a huge variety, mind you, but the dishes they do make are to die for. And desserts...oh my God, the desserts. Their specialty - besides coffee - is ice cream. And if you don't care for coffee, they have a pretty nice selection of hot cocoas, teas and soft drinks. And they have a well-stocked bar for those who prefer their drinks to have a kick to them. They'll even make you a traditional, old-fashioned egg cream if you like - or spike it should that be your vice. And, if I'm not mistaken, they make their own ice cream from scratch. I love this place. I come here quite a bit."

"Ahhhh," Mari kidded, "when you pick up women at the local mall?"

Tom laughed. It was a genuine laugh, full of pleasure and ease. "Yeah, right," he said finally, "like I'm a real ladies' man."

"Well, you picked ME up," Mari said with a smile.

"No, I disagree. Let's be precise here. I picked your SHOE up. YOU came here with me willingly, I believe."

"I stand corrected. You're right, I did come here with you willingly."

"And just exactly why DID you?" Tom asked, with a curious look on his face. "Why did you come here with a complete stranger, who could be - as you put it - Jack the Ripper, for all you know?"

Mari looked him over, contemplating her response. "Well, first of all, Jack the Ripper you're definitely not. Second...I don't know...I just feel...comfortable...with you. You seem like a great guy. I enjoyed our little give-and-take back there at the mall. I guess I just wanted to find out more about you."

Tom seemed happy with that reply. "C'mon," he said, "let's go inside. It's warm and cozy, and I'll see if I can't get us a table by the fireplace."

"Oh, my," Mari sighed as she reached for the door handle, "a fireplace. Yummy."

"Stop," Tom said suddenly.

Startled, Mari froze, trying to think of what could be wrong. "What...? Why...? What's the matter?" she stammered. Grasping at straws, she thought that somehow the word "yummy" had upset him in some way, as ludicrous as that sounded.

"Stay put," he said. "Don't you dare open that door. A gentleman never lets a lady open her own door. It's just not done. Why, if I let you open your own doors, I'd be instantly drummed out of the Brotherhood of Chivalrous Knights! I'd be disgraced!"

"My, I guess chivalry ISN'T dead, at least not yet," Mari laughed. "All right, come open my door for me, Sir Knight." She was happy that it was just Tom's quirkiness that had prompted his call for her to "stop" and not open her door, rather than something she'd said. She breathed a sigh of relief, and made a mental note to be prepared for almost anything with this man.

"My honor, Milady," he answered, bowing his head slightly and smiling at her. Mari just shook her head. An odd fellow... but cute.

Tom got out of the car and walked around to her door, opening it for her. Holding the door open, he offered his hand to her yet again to help her out of the car. "May I have the honor of escorting you inside, Milady?" he asked, bowing courteously once again.

Mari laughed. "Of course you may, my good Knight. Escort away!"

Before assisting her out of the car, he again asked, this time batting his eyelids at her hopefully, "May I?" His lips hovered expectantly near her hand, ready to pucker at a moment's notice.

"My," Mari quipped, "you certainly like kissing my hands. All right, you may kiss my hand again." Then, sighing dramatically, she added, "But please try not to get TOO addicted. I realize my lovely French manicure is tempting for ANY man's lips, but DO try to control yourself, at least a little bit." Quickly, she added, "Not TOO much, now... just a little."

"Thank you, Milady, I will try," he replied with a chuckle, bending to again kiss her knuckles.

They both laughed now, an easy, comfortable laugh. Mari let him help her out of the car and then waited while he closed and locked the door. When that was completed, he offered his arm to her, bent at the elbow, for her to interlock her own arm into. She smiled and accepted the offer, hooking her arm around and through his, and he then escorted her inside.

As they walked to the front door of the The Woodkeeper's Inn, they smiled at each other, eyes locking onto eyes, sparkling a definite interest. There was no awkwardness. They felt so at ease with each other that they felt they could say or do almost anything, and not feel the least bit uncomfortable. They were fast becoming friends, even though they'd just met.

Once inside the door, Mari realized that Tom's statement that he'd patronized this establishment often was entirely true.

"Thomas! You sly rogue, you!" came a definitely female voice from off to one side. "You just can't stay away, can you?" A large, heavy-set woman bounded up to them, oozing energy and friendliness. "And who's your lovely friend here?" she asked, nodding in Mari's direction.

"Kathryn, this is Mari. We've only just met, actually."

"Oh, really?" Kathryn winked at Mari, "then you must be something special. This handsome devil doesn't often bring ladies here. I guess he thinks we're not good enough for them."

"That's not it at all," Tom laughed, knowing Kathryn was only having fun at his expense. "You know me, I'm just a loner...usually."

"Ahhh, but not this time, I see," Kathryn winked again. She touched Mari's shoulder lightly and whispered to her, a bit too loudly for it to be called a whisper, "Since you're such a special guest, I'm assuming both you and Thomas here will want a nice, private, quiet little table off by yourselves, eh? Possibly," she added with yet another wink, "next to our cozy little fireplace? Maybe the booth we call our...lovers' nook?" She looked at the two of them with a knowing twinkle in her eyes.

Mari blushed. Nonetheless, even before Tom could answer for them, she said, "Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you, Kathryn." She'd considered protesting Kathryn's notion that they required a "lovers' nook," but in the end, decided against doing so. Why, she had no idea.

Tom was pleasantly surprised by Mari's indication that she wanted privacy for the two of them. And that admission by her also gave him encouragement. He wasn't a ladies' man by any stretch of the imagination, so every positive signal he received was a boon of the highest magnitude.

Kathryn grabbed two menus from a wooden bin attached to the wall and indicated that the couple should follow her. She walked past a couple dozen mostly unoccupied small tables and continued on into a more sparsely lit back room. Here, several booths lined the wall, each bathed only in dim lighting from a small lamp that was attached to the wall of each booth. Taking them to the corner booth - closest to the fireplace, as promised - Kathryn winked at Mari once again as she seated them.

"This is our special booth," she said, "for lovers and those whose hearts are pure and in need of compatible company. At the Woodkeeper's Inn, we feed the heart and soul as surely as we feed the stomach. Now, you two get to know each other. I'll be right back." With that, she placed the menus on the table and turned to walk away. Before leaving, however, she stopped short and leaned back to Tom, unable to resist one final comment. Whispering loudly, she said, "And, Thomas, dear, next time dress properly for this lovely lady. Scrubs? My, my, very tacky. Not going to win her heart THAT way." Then off she went, like lightning on roller skates.

"I take it Kathryn's very fond of you," Mari said with a smirk, turning to admire the crackling fire.

"Oh, she's just a lovely women," Tom replied, "kind of mothers me. She thinks I should be married and have a dozen kids all over the place by now."

"And why AREN'T you married?" Mari asked, then rushed to add, "As if that's any of my business. Sorry."

"No," Tom was quick to assure her, "that's fine. It's a reasonable question. I guess I just never found the right woman. I almost did once, or so I thought. But, just before I popped the question, she showed her true colors. I found out she wasn't the kind to sleep with just one person. She even admitted it. She said she'd be happy to marry me, as long as she could see other men at the same time. Do you believe that?" He shook his head. "Boy," he added, "love can sure be blind."

"And pretty stupid, too," Mari added. "Since you confessed, I'll do the same. I was married to just one man for over two decades. Two DECADES! And you know what? He hardly ever wanted to touch me."

Tom jolted straight upright in his seat, eyes wide with disbelief. "You're not serious," he said, blinking his doubt.

"Very. We fell in love - such as it was, I suppose - in school. I never knew any other man before him. I thought he was the be all and end all of love and life. He swept me off my feet. I loved him deeply. And then, came the rude awakening that he didn't really desire me. Certainly not sexually" She stopped, as if realizing that she was divulging too much information. She'd only just met Tom, after all. She was amazed she'd said as much as she had.

Tom looked at her intently. "Go on," he said, deep interest on his face. Disbelief, perhaps, but interest nonetheless.

"Well, we've only just met. I shouldn't be burdening you with my problems."

"It's not a burden at all. Sometimes we all need to talk about things. I hope you feel comfortable enough with me to continue. But, before you do, do you mind if I just say that any man who doesn't desire YOU sexually must be GAY?! Heh...sorry...that's just my opinion. Would you mind telling me more? You don't have to, of course, but I'd like to hear it if you'd care to tell. It's entirely up to you."

Mari was blushing. Thankfully, it wasn't so easy to see in the dim lighting. She was also laughing a bit at the "gay" comment. Somehow, it contradicted her feelings of being unattractive...as did Tom's attentiveness. That one comment vindicated her, cleared her of any wrongdoing or fault in her sexless marriage. If Tom thought she was sexy, then it was her ex-husband, not her, who had the problem. Years of anguish melted away with just those few words. Silently, Mari thanked him for that.

"Are you sure?" she asked him, still wanting to talk, to verbally purge feelings of inadequacy, and yet not wanting to sound like she was bemoaning her life.

"Absolutely," he replied, "Your husband doesn't sound so smart to me, but, hey, that's none of my business." He smiled a warm, understanding smile. "Please, tell me as much as you feel comfortable telling me."

"Well, for starters, he's my EX-husband," she continued, collecting her thoughts. Looking at Tom with somewhat sad eyes, she elaborated. "Whereas you never found your Ms. Right, I thought I HAD found my Mr. Right. I thought we were perfect. But, almost immediately, he seemed to not want...relations...with me! I couldn't figure it out. I thought I'd somehow become ugly to him, or that I wasn't exciting enough for him. I didn't know what to do."

"So, what DID you do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yes. Absolutely nothing. I accepted things as they were. I lived with him for decades in a cold marriage."

"Why?" Tom looked astonished. "Why on earth did you just accept that? You're obviously a beautiful woman, fun, intelligent...a pure delight. Why didn't you say something to him...that you were unhappy."

"Oh, over the years, I did. But it never accomplished anything. I guess I'd somehow just come to the conclusion that it was my fault somehow. And, eventually, I just got comfortable with the marriage and didn't rock the boat."

Tom sat back, totally dumbfounded by what he was hearing. Mari realized this, and blushed again.

Tom leaned forward to speak, but just then Kathryn seemed to glide up upon them from nowhere and leaned between them. She placed something on the table and then moved her hand toward it. It was a candle. Using a long, triggered flint candle-lighter, she lit it.

"There," she said, turning off the wall-mounted light with yet another wink, "a nice romantic atmosphere. Now, tell me what you'd like, and I'll bring it quick. And then," another wink twitched her eyelid, "I'll leave you two all alone, all nice and private like. I won't come back until I hear wedding bells." She laughed, but looked at them as if she was privy to some personal information.

Tom spoke first, "I'll just have a cup of your fantastic decaf, Kathryn. Later, I might want some of that delicious double-super-rich-n-gooey chocolate ice cream of yours. How 'bout you, Mari, what would you like?"

Mari glanced at the menu for the first time. "I'll just have a root beer....for now. But I just might have some ice cream later, too."

"Oh, you HAVE to have our ice cream, honey. It's to die for." Then, looking Mari over, she got a shrewd look on her face and said, "You look like a chocolate person. I'll bet you just love chocolate, don't you, honey?"

Mari blushed again. "Why?" she asked, "do I look...?"

Kathryn didn't let her finish the thought. "No, no, honey. You're absolutely lovely. I can just tell peoples' likes is all. Now, take Thomas here. I can tell he's got a real case of the drools for YOU, hon. Can't remember when I last saw that look on his face." Then, leaning down to her, she whispered - again in that patented ultra loud volume - "Make sure you snag this fella, honey. He's a real catch. Even if he hasn't the sense to wear better'n scrubs on a date."

Before Tom could object, Kathryn laughed good-naturedly and again turned to leave. "I'll be back in a jiff," she said, and glided out of the room soundlessly. Tom and Mari waited until after she'd returned with their drinks to continue the ex-husband conversation. But, in reality, Mari didn't really want to continue it. That was old news. Water under the bridge. She wanted to talk about other things, about life moving on. About...Tom, and what he was all about. She found him fascinating, even though she knew next to nothing about him. She also had stirrings for him. Oh, he wasn't a hunk by any stretch, but he had a way about him. The way his blue eyes twinkled, sparkled their interest. The way he spoke. His corny, chivalrous ways. She wanted to know about HIM. And talking about her ex was not going to gain her that information.

"Well, Tom," she said, "I could talk about my ex all night, but that wouldn't make me feel better about the situation, about my life, about my SELF. Let's just say I spent a lot of wasted years in a relationship that was not the least bit fulfilling, in any way. So, I've decided I want to move on. I'm divorced now, and I've left that part of my life in the past. I don't want to feel that unhappy ever again, so you're looking at the NEW Mari!" She laughed a quiet, nervous laugh.

"Okay," Tom said, "no ex talk. That's fine. And, may I add that I find the NEW Mari to be just delightful. You're beautiful, obviously intelligent, have a delightful personality, and - your ex's opinions notwithstanding - I think you're one helluva sexy woman. So there. I said it. I think you're sexy." He looked at her, a combination of awkward shyness and total honesty mingling openly on his smiling face.

Mari's eyes lit up. Her pleased smile alone could've lit the room brighter than a hundred of Kathryn's flickering candles. She was so appreciative that Tom said she was sexy, that tears actually began to well up at the corners of her eyes. She wasn't used to being complimented, to being thought of as sexy or attractive. She looked away and blinked her eyes quickly, to fight back the tears. Tom noticed, but didn't say anything. He didn't want to embarrass her.

Mari needed to change the subject. Despite Tom's silence, she felt awkward at that one single moment. She needed to divert the conversation, veer it into a completely different direction. Her brain scrambled for something to say to end the emotional moment. What it came up with shocked her. She didn't do it out of meanness or to ridicule Tom, but her brain just pulled the thought from her subconscious mind. As soon as she spoke the words, she regretted it.

Fumbling, uncomfortable for the first time all evening, Mari blurted, "So, Tom, am I safe in assuming you have a foot fetish?"