Double Blind Date

My brain told me to run, but my body wasn't listening, frozen in place by what I saw. Zack's other hand went to one of those breasts, squeezing, pulling on the nipple, accompanied by silent exclamations from the woman. A few more moments of that, and he was fumbling with his belt, his pants down to the floor, and kicked away. I sucked in a deep breath as I watched his erection bouncing as she grabbed hold of it. Then he slid the woman up the wall and ... oh, god, put it in her.

Run, leave, stop watching my mind was screaming. I'd seen this a few times on the internet, bad girl that I was, but never in real life. They had dropped to the floor, Zack between her legs, his hips pumping, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. Suddenly he stopped, his head up, looking straight at the window until his eyes closed, his expression like none I'd ever seen.

A moment later, he looked down at the woman, moved backward, and stood up, extending a hand to help her stand. She retrieved some panties from the floor, put them on, and arranged her skirt, carefully pressing it into place. Zack helped with the top of her dress as she tucked her breasts back into her bra, finally pulling the shoulders of the dress into place. She looked ... perfectly normal. I watched Zack pull his pants back on, carefully tucking away a now very different looking ... I took a deep breath ... cock. He gave her a quick kiss, like the one I'd gotten last night.

I wanted to scream, but instead, I stood there and watched them talking ... and laughing. My stomach was knotting, and I was afraid I might puke. Now the brain that had told me to run was sending me a different message, one I could barely comprehend. It was ten minutes before eight. I could sit in the car for ten minutes and then go inside. I could ... if I would. That would be grotesque, and I was not that way at all. Had seeing what happened, and them, created a change in me?

I went to the Fit, quietly opened the door, and sat inside, wondering. What would I say? Could I call them out on what I'd seen? That had to have been Ami, and she was my age. I tried to picture myself ... I couldn't do it. The picturing, that is. But I could go inside and play things by ear. Shit, I couldn't believe I was thinking that. My stomach was settling, probably due to the anger that was building inside me. "Cast my lot." What I had wondered about when I first met him was now confirmed. He was nothing but bullshit.

At one minute before eight, I closed the door of the Fit and headed back up that front walk, this time passing the windows without looking. I rang the doorbell. I hoped whoever answered couldn't hear my heart pounding.

The big door swung open.

"Hey, right on the button," Zack said, leaning out the door to kiss my cheek.

I prayed he couldn't feel me cringing as I tried to smile.

He led me inside, to the big room visible through the narrow window. I hoped my voice would work.

We had barely gotten into the room when the lady in the dark dress joined us.

"Ah, Ami, this is Springer. Springer, Ami."

I smiled and shook her hand. I think the same one that had held ... I didn't want to think about it. I wondered if she'd had time to wash her hands.

"Nice to meet you, Ami." My voice trembled slightly, but no one seemed to notice.

She was taller than I was, darker complexion and hair, but other than that, it was me.

"You too. Zack has told me so much about you."

Her smile seemed sincere, but Zack didn't know that much about me to tell her. What was I going to do now that I had gotten myself into the middle of this? I decided I'd just do it.

"I've seen you before," I said as sweetly as I could muster.

"Oh, have we met before?" Ami questioned, a puzzled look crossing her face.

"No, not met. I've just seen you before."

"My goodness, when was that?" An innocent smile on her face.

"About a half-hour ago, through that window."

The change in Ami's expression was priceless.

"Saw you too, Zack," I giggled. "More of both of you than I wanted to see too." I looked from one to the other. "No one going to say anything?"

"You're not puttin' out," Zack snarled, instantly on the attack. "Ami likes it." He shrugged, I think realizing how pathetic that sounded. But it was a very different Zack I was seeing.

"Zack," Ami yelled. "Shut up!"

"Hell, it would be six months before I get anything from her," he said, pointing disgustedly at me.

"If it means anything, I believe never might apply here, rather than six months." As disgusted as I felt, I couldn't keep from laughing.

"It's not fucking funny, Springer," Zack stammered out.

I was sure neither of them was quite sure how to handle this nor what to do. I discovered I was enjoying having them flummoxed even though it was going to change my life.

"I'll make it easy for you two. I'll just leave."

I playfully waved and took two steps toward the door when a tall, dark, and very distinguished-looking man with graying temples burst through that door, giving me a big smile.

"This has to be the lovely Springer I've been hearing about."

His greeting was met with a painful silence as all three of us seemed stunned. Both Zack and Ami were looking at me, Zack glaring and Ami with a pleading look on her face. I almost smiled. I had knowledge ... and power. That gave me an adrenaline rush but was also frightening.

"Um, did I break wind or something?"

Zack seemed to recover slightly. "Yeah, Dad, this is Springer. My father, Simon."

Simon immediately gave me a huge hug.

"So glad to meet you and have you visit. You've met Ami too?"

"I did," I answered, not looking at her. "Sorry to be a party-pooper," I lied, just wanting to get away now. "Something's come up, and I have to be going."

"Oh my gosh, sorry. I hope everything's okay." Simon seemed like a pleasant fellow, and I felt sorry for him, not knowing what was happening.

"I'm sure I'll find out." I left without getting my kiss from Zack.

I made it around the first corner before I pulled to the curb, sobbing. I thought I was being tough but was only delaying the inevitable. I was crying, gasping for breath for long minutes when I became aware of something beside my car, then someone looking in the window. I pushed the ignition button and rolled the window down. He had on a uniform.

"Hello, ma'am. Just checking. Everything okay?" He was looking me over very carefully.

"Yes and no," I answered, taking a trembling breath. "I'm ... okay."

"You look like you've been crying, ma'am."

"Boyfriend problems," I answered, shrugging.

"Sorry," he said sympathetically. "Nothing much I can do about that. Are you sure you're okay? Anything you need?"

"I am, and no, nothing. Thank you so much."

"Be safe then." He climbed into the cruiser and drove away.

Nothing to do but head home.

Thank goodness for work. It occupied me, distracted me, whatever. I was working on a significant project with a large team of people, the interactions being an important factor in freeing my mind from what had happened at the Lloyd house. Evenings were a little more complicated but binge-watching the old series "Lost" on Netflix was helping. I was only about nine when it had aired the first time.

I made it through the first week and the second, somehow avoiding Nicole as I wasn't quite ready for "true confessions" yet.

On Monday evening of the third week, my phone rang. The screen showed the number wasn't new, but neither was it familiar.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Springer. This is Willhelm. Remember me?"

"Sure. How's your leg?"

"Healing, thanks."

"That's great. You sound a little better too." I appreciated the call but wondered why. He was a friend of Zack, and that made me circumspect.

"Yeah, stupid drugs. Well, not stupid cause my leg hurt like hell." He laughed.

"Glad it's better." I was still waiting and not feeling any more comfortable.

"I talked to Zack the other day."

Now we were getting to it.

"He said you two weren't dating now. Hell, I'll just say it. He didn't have too many nice things to say about you."

So, was it Willhelm's turn to repeat those things?

"I asked Nicole about it, and both of us think he's, well, full of shit."

That answered my question, but I wondered what was coming next, although I thought I might be able to guess and wished I was wrong?

"You up for that blind date, a little late?"

I was none for one on blind dates. Before, they were something unknown. Now they were frightening. Did I want to give it another chance? Did I want to give another guy a try?

"I don't know, Willhelm. It's just ... "

"You have a real cheerleader in Nicole. I just thought I'd give it a try."

He sounded discouraged. He hadn't done anything with Zack that I hadn't done. We had each misjudged him.

"I trust Nicole," I said.

"But can you trust me? That's the question filling up your head, isn't it?"

I sighed loud enough I'm sure he heard it.

"Not your fault, Wilhelm." I paused, "CAN I trust you?" That was a hell of a question to ask the poor guy.

"I will treat you like a fine piece of Wedgewood porcelain, a delicate piece of Waterford crystal, a priceless — "

"I get it, Will," I interrupted, laughing. How could I refuse him? It was a date, not a lifetime commitment.

"Sure," I said. "I'm anxious to be treated like all those things you mentioned."

"Really? Want to wait till the weekend or sooner?"

"I'm really tied up at work. Exhausted when I get home. Can we make it Saturday?"

"Fine. That'll give me a chance to practice with the Waterford and Wedgewood stuff."

He was hard not to like, at least over the phone.

The next segment of my life was ready to begin. Maybe.

A part of the last segment stayed with me as I couldn't stop thinking about Ami and Simon Lloyd and wondering. Did he know, or would he find out about Zack and Ami? Did he already know and not care? Ami was ... a different me, same age just different looks ... and a very different outlook on things. I realized I might never know the answer, which bothered me a little since I had been kind of a part of it, not just a hearer of rumors.

Will ... he told me to call him that even though I told him I couldn't pronounce the difference between one and two "l's," ... and I talked a couple of times during the week, figuring out what we wanted to do on Saturday. I wasn't a lot of help and pretty much left it up to him and hoped that wasn't a mistake. The poor guy was going to be like Sisyphus, struggling to roll the boulder up the hill, the hill being me, the only difference being he'd only have one chance with me, not an eternity of trying.

On the second phone call with Will, he told me he'd like to take me to dinner and that I should dress up and he'd wear a suit and tie, the whole nine yards, and he'd take me to a wonderful place where we could eat and learn more about each other. I wasn't used to that sort of thing, so it might be interesting, a real "new start" with a "new guy." My first impulse was just to grab one of the old dresses I had that I had worn very seldom, but I finally decided I needed to give Will a fair chance ... and myself as well.

On Thursday, I went back to Easton Mall, Nordstroms no less, and bought a new dress that I thought might hide my "squishiness" a little while still making me look ... well, delectable was a bit strong, but I did want to look good. Despite what had happened, that part of me hadn't changed. I liked to look good.

Also, on that second call, I couldn't keep myself from asking about Zack, despite the way asking affected my stomach. Will reluctantly told me that Zack was in Tucson, at the University of Arizona, to play basketball and that he had already committed to that when he had the blind date with me, although Will hadn't known that at the time. The old "lower than a snake's belly" seemed to fit Zack very well.

I worked hard at getting ready for this date, smiling as I looked at the new dress. I spent the appropriate amount of time getting prepared, including shower, makeup, and clothing. The mirror, usually my enemy, reassured me this time — I was ready.

Will scored his first point by arriving almost precisely at five-thirty, actually, twenty-five seconds early, which was nearly perfect. We had agreed not to friend each other on Facebook so that it would be a proper blind date. When I opened the door, it was our first view of each other. I'm not sure what Will saw, but I discovered a freckled redhead, a few inches taller than myself, with the clearest, sparkling blue eyes I'd ever seen. He was starting deep in negative territory, something he had inherited, not caused. He was gaining ground quickly but was still dealing with a very cautious female. Strangely, I think that, subconsciously, I was rooting for him to succeed.

"Hi," he said, definitely checking me from top to bottom, those blue eyes sparkling. "Since I'm treating you like fine china or crystal, I won't say what I'm thinking."

As my smile faded, he changed his tack. "No, no, you're a delight to my eyes, believe me." He was biting his lower lip when he finished.

Poor guy.

"Listen," I said, smiling at him with as much sincerity as I could muster, "please, just be Will. Don't worry about any of that other stuff. That's on me. You don't need to spoil me." I had to laugh when I said that.

Will looked at me very thoughtfully. "Okay," he replied simply. "But you have to agree to be Springer, the Springer you are right now, no faking, no holding back. And you have to talk to me. You know what I mean."

The blue eyes still sparkled, but the look was very earnest. I understood precisely what he was saying — and I appreciated it. He had said something earlier, and now it was my turn.

"You look very handsome in that suit, and I love the way those blue eyes look at me." I took a deep breath, astonished that I had said that.

Will's ruddy complexion ruddied slightly more.

"As I said before, my eyes will look at you as often as they can. You're ..." he paused a second, " ... a very pretty engineer." He chuckled as he held out his hand. "You ready to go?"

I debated long seconds, and I'm sure Will noted it as he withdrew the hand. Instead, he put his hand on my back, ushering me toward the door. Even his innocuous offering of his hand had caused chills. No way would I resist or react to the hand on my back as that would be totally unfair to Will. He was being naturally kind, and I had to learn to live with that, despite my reservations.

The car door he opened for me wasn't attached to a million-dollar car but rather a pretty, red Ford Fusion. Will climbed in, and he gave me one more look. Guh.

"Now," he said. "You can choose where we eat if you'd like to. I'll give you two choices."

"I have no idea," I inserted quickly.

"I haven't given you the choices yet," he laughed.

"I won't have any idea when you do either." My turn to laugh.

"Mitchell's has a couple of restaurants, one at Easton and one downtown. One's a steakhouse, and one's a seafood place."

"Mitchell's?" I questioned.

"Appropriate, right."

I thought for a second. Which of my namesake restaurants should I choose? It was easy, and I decided.

"Downtown? Don't get down there much but eating there sounds cool."

"We'll do it."

We did it. Mitchell's Steakhouse downtown. Very plush and fancy, and I was glad I was dressed as I was. When I looked at the menu, I had trouble getting my breath. I looked at Will, then the menu.

"Will?" I couldn't keep from questioning. I was sure my mother would have a seizure if she saw the menu.

"What's your question?" The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at me once more. "I promised you Waterford Crystal and Wedgewood Porcelain. They're the best." He nodded.

Stupid guy was doing everything right. A deep breath, and I reached over and squeezed his hand. I didn't hold it, just a quick squeeze. My stomach didn't twist, and no chills ran down my spine. Much better. Maybe I'd just order.

I won't describe what I ordered — I found it further down the menu, and it was considerably cheaper than the things above it—still, fifty-five dollars. Will ordered, and his was sixty-two dollars. He checked with me, then ordered two glasses of premium chardonnay. I felt like Waterford and Wedgewood for sure. I couldn't help but wonder why he was doing this the way he was. I hoped I knew the answer to that. It was Will being Will.

We were served our dinner, in courses, naturally. I felt like Lady Springer Mitchell the way the staff was treating us. The food was exquisite, the tastes unforgettable. I watched Will and could tell he was having a similar experience. When we finished eating, we sipped our wine and talked. The restaurant was not crowded, so as long as Will kept buying wine, we didn't feel guilty about staying.

The evening stretched on, and I wasn't aware of its passing. Eventually, we decided to leave, the hour telling us it was too late for any further activities that Will might have had in mind. We walked to the car, me finding his hand along the way. It felt comfortable now.

We drove to my place, and Will walked me to my door. As he told me what a wonderful time he'd had, I found myself staring at his lips.

"I had a great time too," I responded, my heart pounding.

"Next Saturday then?"

"For sure," I assured him, heart still pounding. Will took my hand in both of his and squeezed. I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't feel my pulse right through my hand.

"You sleep well, and I'll send a friend request tomorrow."

"I'll have to check it out." I smiled.

"You sleep well. Good night, Springer." A final squeeze ... and he disappeared.

I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. I did know I wanted to see Will again. He was the most anti-Zack man that I could imagine.

Smiling, I climbed into bed early, anxious about tomorrow and my future.

I accepted Will's friend request. Now we could text or use Messenger. He quickly had me download Skype and, by early Sunday afternoon, we were looking at each other again. No suit or fancy dress now — T-shirts and sweatpants more in order.

I found out his parents were divorced, his father living in Hawaii and his mother in Phoenix, both a long way off, and he saw them once a year if lucky. I related the story of my parents, and he said he'd love to meet them. He said his parents were both modern-day hippies, and he couldn't imagine people like mine. That surprised me since Will was anything but a hippie.

I already knew he was a banker, far from hippiedom, and he seemed to love it. He constantly teased me that I didn't look like an engineer, despite my reliance on numbers, statistics, and facts. In some ways, I was more like my parents than I was willing to admit.

We had a second date, and then a third. When he walked me to my door after the third date, I had decided. When he gave my hand that final squeeze, I held on and pulled him nearer to me. A smile slowly filled his face. He leaned in toward me, stopping half-way home. I finished the journey for him, our lips meeting gently, staying together for seconds, and parting slowly. The smile never left his face ... nor mine.

Two days later, when I got home from work, there was a small package waiting for me at the front desk. Puzzled, I went to my room and opened it, first the outer wrapper and then the small, hinged box inside. I found a delicate gold locket in the shape of a heart. I opened it to find a tiny picture of Will and me, taken with his phone on that third date. It was so sweet I had to blink several times to see it clearly. I carefully opened the clasp and put it on, then sent a text.