Bowl Me Over

"Keep it, you beat me." Tim looked off into space.

"Okay."

Tim looked back at her and sighed. "It's just some stuff," he tried to explain, "no big deal."

"You just don't seem like yourself tonight," she countered. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, fine," he replied quickly, too quickly. Sara smiled at him and he suddenly felt uncomfortable and nervous. Tim shifted in his seat.

"Oh, come on, Tim. I think I've been around you long enough to know when something's bugging you." She looked at him intently. "Is it me? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, you didn't do anything. It's just that..." He looked away for a moment. "I've been thinking about this for a while and I know you've said you didn't want to, but I thought maybe..."

"What?" she asked, exasperated. This was so unlike him to stammer and stutter about.

"I was just wondering if you'd like to go out with me, you know, outside of bowling." There, he finally got it out.

"So, that's what's been bothering you all evening, wanting to ask me out?" She was flattered by the offer.

Tim nodded. "Well, yeah, that and how pretty you looked. You're quite a distraction."

Sara blushed slightly, smiling. "So, what did you have in mind?"

"Heck, I don't know. I'm making this up as I go!"

Sara laughed softly as Tim let a smile escape his lips, happy that she hadn't turned him down. A few seconds went by before Sara began to shake her head.

"What?" Tim asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking about how I didn't want to jump into another relationship."

"We could fake it."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, puzzled.

"We could pretend to date a few times," he explained, "you know, kind of like a trial basis, then we could go out on a real date. Then we wouldn't be jumping in."

"You're silly," Sara laughed, "but we might as well date for real. Everyone thinks we're dating anyway."

"How true," he agreed, "although it's not the best reason to date."

"No, no, I didn't mean it that way," she said, pushing her hair out of her face.

"I know," Tim said, chuckling. "It's funny how people jumped to conclusions when we weren't dating, but probably won't know the difference when we do!"

Sara nodded in agreement as she studied Tim. He was so different from Scott in so many ways; his looks, his humor, the way he carried himself. She always seemed to be on edge around Scott, whereas Tim made her feel comfortable and at ease. Now that he had asked her for a date, Tim was his relaxed and joking self again, a stark contrast to Scott, who always seemed tightly wound and moody.

Tim noticed her gaze , but said nothing as he finished his portion of the pizza. Sara finished hers as well as the minutes ticked away.

"You still haven't told me what we're going to do or when, for that matter," she said, breaking the silence.

"It takes time to formulate the perfect plan," he mused. "You must be patient," he added quietly.

"Ah, the perfect plan. I see. Could you at least give me a day and time so I can be ready for this so-called perfection?" She sat back in her seat, arms crossed and smiling.

"Okay, okay," he said, "if you must know, it shall be Friday at six o'clock. I cannot reveal anything else to you, otherwise it would ruin the perfection."

"You haven't got a clue, do you?" she giggled.

"Of course not! I told you I was making this up as I went. Anyway, is Friday at six okay with you?"

"It's fine," she replied, checking her watch. It was only nine-forty. She had a little time before she needed to head home. For the next half hour, they talked easily about various subjects, most notably, dining preferences, movies, and other dating ideas. By ten-fifteen, Tim still didn't know what the date would entail, but at least he knew her likes and dislikes.

He walked her to her truck, as was his habit now, and they exchanged phone numbers.

"This isn't a fake number you give to people you don't like, is it?" he asked. "I mean, I don't want to be calling "Chicken Louie's" for a date."

"Don't worry," she replied, laughing, "it's not Chicken Louie's. I don't really know what number it's to," she teased back.

"Wonderful," he replied. "It'll probably be "Mabel's Whore House and Donkey Stable"!"

"The donkeys might be fun for you."

"Are you saying that from experience?" he shot back.

Sara feigned anger, "I'll get you for that one!" Her face softened in the brightly lit parking lot as they tried to figure out a way to end the evening, neither in any particular hurry. Finally, with her hand on the door handle, Sara said, "I guess I'll see you Friday. Call me in the evening sometime and we'll make plans." She opened the door and got in as Tim closed the door for her. The motor turned over slowly and roughly before it rumbled to life. Sara rolled down her window and waved to Tim before she drove away, leaving Tim to think about the next few days.

He picked her up that Friday as promised. Sara came out of the house as he parked, saving him a visit with her family. Sara was the eldest of five children, the rest being teenagers, and she didn't trust them not to embarrass her, especially the two youngest sisters, ages thirteen and fourteen. She planned to introduce Tim at a later date if things continued to progress between them. Tim, dressed in navy blue dress pants and a tan polo shirt, his black hair neatly combed, walked her to his car and let her in. Sara looked even better than she did at the bowling lanes the previous Monday. Her wavy hair was fashioned in a French braid and tied with a light blue bow which matched her yellow silk blouse and blue skirt.

As he settled beside her, he inhaled the sweet, soft perfume that she was wearing and gave her an approving look. "You look great, Sara. Did you work late or did you do this on purpose?"

"Thank you," she said, her brown eyes shining, "and yes, it was on purpose. You look pretty good yourself. On purpose?" she inquired.

"Yes," he laughed, "I do clean up once in a while."

"So, where are we going?" she asked as they left her neighborhood.

"Well, there's a really nice Chinese restaurant not too far from here called the "Ping Pong". It's owned by former table tennis champions. Have you heard of it?" Tim glanced her way for an answer, but she shaking her head in amusement.

"Nice try, Tim. Where are we really going?"

"You didn't buy that one?"

"No."

"Okay, well how about the "Szechuan House" on Fourth Street?"

"Sounds wonderful," she approved. "I was hoping you'd pick Chinese."

"Well, you dropped enough hints when I called you."

Sara shrugged her shoulders and smiled as they continued their journey to town.

The restaurant appeared to be quite crowded from the looks of the parking lot, but once they were inside, it was only a five or ten minute wait. They sat at the bar in the meantime and Tim ordered drinks for them, a Tom Collins for her and a glass of wine for himself. Shortly, they were seated in a lower level section, out of the view of most of the other diners. There was an enormous fish tank to Sara's left with many varieties of fish swimming about. They both selected wonton soup as an appetizer before they poured over the menu. For a first date, they were quite at ease with each other as they chatted about whatever came to mind. Sara enjoyed Tim's company very much in addition to the atmosphere of the restaurant itself. Luckily, it didn't seem to be all that different than when they sat in the lounge after bowling.

During the middle of their dinner, Sara asked, "What else do you have planned? Your plan for perfection seems to have gone off without a hitch so far." Tim smiled. "That's still a secret." He then pointed to her dish, a steaming vegetable concoction that smelled heavenly. "How's your food?"

"Excellent. I've never had this before. Thanks for suggesting it. And yours?"

"Pretty spicy," he answered, reaching for his water. He looked at her over the rim of his glass, her focus still on him. "Do you want to try some?"

"No, no, no," she said, her hands protectively out in front of her. "That's way too hot for me. I don't do spicy very well."

"So, what do you do well?" he asked, his eyebrow cocked.

Sara blushed slightly before answering. "I take your bowling money very well," she replied sweetly.

"You do not," he protested. "I've still won more money than you."

"Wow! What, five bucks maybe. Whoopie!" she exclaimed. "According to you before the season, I would have given you forty bucks by the end."

"I'm still beating you, so there."

"Keep it up, Tim. Pretty soon, I'll be beating you every game and you'll be begging for mercy."

"Never," he said, "I could never stoop that low."

"God, you're such a brat!"

"Exactly."

"Are you always this mean to your dates?" she asked.

"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," he said innocently. "I'm just being my normal charming self."

"Right!" She said sarcastically.

Their conversation eventually turned to their previous boyfriends and girlfriends, a subject that Tim seemed to be reluctant to talk about at first. After Sara talked about a few of her high school beaus, she talked at length about Scott. She left nothing out and didn't mind sharing this part of her life with him.

Tim talked about some of his dates in high school, but didn't go into much detail. He didn't seem willing to talk about any recent dates. Some things needed to be left alone, he thought. It was he who changed the subject. Puzzled, Sara let it go without prying. Tim remained a bit subdued for a while, but gradually warmed up again as the bitter memories slunk back into the dark areas of his mind where they belonged. The mood lightened soon as Tim went back to his teasing, self-deprecating self.

After the dinner, Tim took her to the "Comedy Palace", a night club that showcased the area's best stand up comedians. Most of the comics were outstanding and Sara's sides hurt from laughing. Tim enjoyed it, too, but his mind kept wandering back to Janice. He didn't like to talk about her and he rarely did. If he and Sara decided to keep dating, which he thought they would, he knew he would have to tell her the whole story. Tim felt guilty about avoiding the subject, especially after Sara had spilled her guts over that idiot, Scott. What a pain in the ass he must have been! Tim felt sorry for Sara that she had to go through it, although she didn't seem to be much worse for it, no emotional scars or flashbacks that he could see.

Tim felt Sara's hand touch his arm and he jumped slightly. Looking at her, he tried to smile and saw a look of concern on her face. He patted her hand reassuringly and then took her hand in his. It felt warm, soft, and wonderful to his touch. His mind eased almost immediately as a real smile spread across his face. Sara smiled back and was relieved to find him back in her world again. Whatever was haunting him had a steel grip on his mind. Part of her really wanted to know what the problem was, but most of her was afraid to find out.

The ride home was pleasant as they relived some of the more memorable acts that they had seen. They were still laughing as Tim pulled into the driveway. The lights in the house were still on as it was only around ten-forty five.

"Do you want to come in for a minute?" she asked as the floodlight came on in front of them.

Tim hesitated for a few seconds. He really wanted to stay alone with her longer, but he wasn't ready to meet her family just yet.

"I don't know," he said, shrugging his shoulders. His thoughts were turning back to Janice once more. He didn't want to talk about her, but Sara would find out sooner or later anyway. "I think I'd rather just talk for a while. Is that okay?"

"That's fine," she replied quickly. "I like talking to you," she added.

Tim smiled thinly as he tried to begin, but nothing came out. He looked away briefly before turning back to her. "Could we take a walk?" he asked softly.

"Sure," she said, "I'd love to." Tim got out, closed his door, and went to her side to let her out. He took her hand as she stepped out, but didn't let go as they began to stroll her tree-lined neighborhood.

Tim was quiet, pensive as they walked the first few minutes, the half moon and street lights shining their way. There was a soft, gentle breeze barely moving the leaves. Sara could sense his apprehension and had a feeling that he wanted to get something off of his chest. She was enjoying the walk anyway, as it was becoming a relaxing, soothing stroll.

After they had walked two or three blocks, Tim began to speak. The words came out slowly, painfully, as he relived the events all over again, ripping open the healed wound that he had so carefully bandaged and hidden away.

"My senior year in college," he began, "I met a really nice girl in one of my physics classes. Janice was her name, Janice Ditmer. She was from Auburn. You know where that is, don't you? Blond hair, blue eyes, nice figure, the whole nine yards. She was a lot of fun and we had a great time dating. She was a math major also, but she was much smarter than me, almost a genius, I guess. Straight "A" student. I noticed little things about her that I didn't pay any attention to at the time. Looking back, I realize what was happening, but hindsight is twenty-twenty."

He inhaled deeply as his eyes started to tear.

"Anyway," he continued, "we fell in love and planned to marry sometime after our graduation. I guess things started to unravel for us when she got her first "B". She was devastated and hysterical and tried to get the prof to change it. He wouldn't change it. I mean, it was only one "B" and wouldn't have affected her overall grade, but she didn't see it that way. She blamed me for spending too much time with her, distracting her, etc. When I disagreed, she went ape-shit on me, telling me that I ruined her grades, she'd never get into graduate school, things like that."

"I had never seen that side of her before and it scared me. I called her parents to see if they could help. It was then that I found out that she was on meds for manic depression. She had never told me about her depression. Her parents said that sometimes she would stop taking the medication because she felt good and she felt that she didn't need to be on them."

"When I confronted Janice about her depression, she admitted that she had taken herself off of the medication, but that I should never have gone behind her back to her parents. As graduation got closer, her manic moments were more frequent and our enjoyable time together was becoming less. Her grades continued to slip slightly and according to her, it was all my fault. When I suggested that we see less of each other so that she could concentrate more on her studies, she threatened to kill herself, that she couldn't live without me. I'll save you all the details, but I knew she was becoming more and more unstable and I didn't know what to do. When I suggested that she go into counseling, she accused me of not loving her and trying to get rid of her."

"Oh my God," Sara said softly. No wonder he didn't want to talk about this. She must have been the psycho bitch from hell.

"Anyway, I knew this wasn't the same girl that I fell in love with and I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with someone whom I'd always have to be tip-toeing around. It really bothered me that she didn't seem to care about taking her medications so that she could feel better. Well, I broke off the engagement. She took it better than I thought she would. Of course, she cried and accused me of using her, among other nasty things, and we parted. I really hoped that we could get back together if she would have gone back on her medications, but I never got the chance."

Tim stopped walking and looked up. Sara saw tears forming in his eyes and it broke her heart. She let go of his hand and slipped her arm around his waist and hugged him.

His voice quivered as he continued, "They found her a few days later in the bathtub, wrists slashed, no note." Sara gasped. "I've tried not blame myself for it, but sometimes the guilt comes back anyway." He looked down at Sara, his face wet from tears. "Her family never blamed me," he continued, "at least they never said anything bad to me. They knew she had problems, but they couldn't do anything to save her either. I went through therapy for a while and it did me good, but even though I know I couldn't have saved her from her own destruction, sometimes I feel that it was still my fault."

Tim let out a heavy sigh and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He started to walk once more, holding Sara close to him, needing her warmth and comfort. Breathing in deeply, he said, "You know, besides my family, you're the first person I've ever told."

"I'm so sorry that you went through that," she said. "You didn't have to tell me."

"No, I had to tell you," he replied. "You see, you're the first girl I've dated since her. I didn't want to date or get close to anyone for a long time. I wanted you to know. I didn't want to keep it in. I feel better for telling you."

Soon, they were back a her house and some of the lights had been turned out. "The house is quiet," she remarked. "Do you want to go in for a while?"

"Sure," he sighed. He would have preferred to have kept walking.

She let them in the house with her key as the door opened with a little squeak. She looked left and right for signs of life, but everyone had gone to bed. She closed the door behind them and led them to the living room. A light had been left on near the picture window, but the rest of the house was dark. They sat down on the sofa and were quiet for a few minutes. A bit nervous at being alone in the house with her, Tim eased back into the cushions, hands clasped between his knees.

"I hope I didn't scare you off," he said finally, "it's not a very nice story."

"You didn't scare me off. I wouldn't have asked you in otherwise. I'm glad that you told me if it helped you." She put her hand over his.

"I didn't want to, not at first."

"I'm glad you did," she repeated.

"Me too."

Tim unclasped his hands and took her hand in both of his. Although petite in size, her hands and wrists were very strong. "You've got nice hands," he said as he examined them, turning them over and checking the palms. "I never really noticed them before. Very nice," he murmured.

Looking away, embarrassed, he said, "I hope I didn't ruin the evening by talking about her."

"Nothing was ruined," she insisted, squeezing his hand to get him to look back her. "I had a wonderful time, and I'm still having a wonderful time. Don't worry about that." She smiled at him reassuringly.

"Good," he said, trying to smile back.

Tim stayed for a while longer, but when it got to be after twelve-thirty, he thought it best to leave. She walked him to his car, hand in hand, the wind picking up and blowing through the trees. He stood with his back against the car door, not in any real hurry to leave. He held her hands in front of him and they looked at each other for a few seconds, neither wanting the date to end.

Breaking the spell, Tim said, "Well, I guess I'll see you Monday night."

"Sooner, if you like," she replied, not wanting to wait until Monday.

"Sooner?"

"Got any plans Sunday?"

"None that I can think of."

"Good. Stop by for lunch at eleven..."

"Eleven..."

"Then, we'll think of something else to do."

"With your family..." Tim was not comfortable at all with the idea.

"Yes, with my family. There's always room for one more." Sara saw him fidgeting about. "If you like, we can eat in the basement away from everyone."

"That sounds a little better," he said, not altogether in jest.

"Oh come on, Tim, it's just for lunch. You'll have a good time. I'll make sure my sisters don't bug you." Tim thought it over for a minute before he agreed, but it was against his better judgement.