Ginger or Marianne?

"Okay. I get it. Yes, he's very..."

Farah smiled then said, "VERY good looking."

"And he likes you," her friend pointed out.

"And that's the part I don't understand."

"Oh, my. Dear, dear Farah. What am I to do with you?"

"Meaning?"

"Honey, you are too smart not to know the answer to that," Traci told her.

"Then why am I asking you to tell me the answer?"

"Because you're modest. And sweet."

"Oh. Well, that clears it all up!" Farah told her as she made a face that indicated just the opposite.

Traci laughed then filled in the blanks.

"You know how people say 'gentlemen prefer blondes', right?"

"Of course."

"Do they? Do ALL gentlemen prefer blondes?"

"No. Of course not."

"So...do ALL men like women with long hair?"

"Um...no. I'm sure a few prefer short hair."

"Since you really don't know anything about what Shawn likes or finds attractive, how do you know you're not all of those things rolled into one in his mind?"

Farah was modest, and were she to answer that honestly it would sound like she wasn't. But she understood Traci's point. It was at least possible a guy that good looking found her equally attractive. Ben had. And as soon as she remembered that, she realized her friend might be right.

"That seems a little far-fetched," Farah finally replied, still not ready to believe herself in spite of her late husband's kind words or Shawn having told her she was the more attractive woman.

"Not to me."

Farah sighed then said, "I know you're going to tell me I'm beautiful, blah, blah, blah, but the truth is—you're beautiful. I'm not putting myself down, I'm just not in your league. Or anywhere near it."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, sweetie. Oh, and thank you for the compliment, by the way, but what you're missing is that a certain percentage of men find women like me undesirable."

"Yeah, right!" Farah replied with a laugh, having forgotten about the 'Ken doll' analogy and therefore missing the 'Barbie connection'.

"I'm serious. Guys like that look at me and think 'plastic' or 'phony'. But they look at you and say, "Hmmm. Genuine. Real. Yummy!"

Farah nearly spewed the tea she was drinking when she heard the word 'yummy'.

"Laugh all you want, but it's true," Traci informed her. "And I'd be willing to bet Shawn is one of those guys."

Again, Traci had to admit her dearest friend might be right. It seemed illogical and counterintuitive, but it was possible.

"But you're forgetting how much younger he is than me. Or you."

Traci sighed then said, "And you're still missing the point."

Farah thought for a moment then said, "So...that's just one more thing he likes about me. The age difference. Is that the point?"

"Ding, ding, ding! And the light has finally come on!" Traci announced, again in a dramatic fashion.

"Gee, thanks," Farah said with a roll of her eyes.

Traci ignored her and asked another question.

"So the only question that remains is, are you going to kick him out of bed for...being too young?"

Farah was expecting to hear 'for eating crackers', and the surprise wording made her laugh.

"Out of bed. Ha! Listen to you," Farah said.

"Just think about that, okay?"

"No! I am not going to think about it. Not about...that."

"You should because after your third date, you're going to have to think about it," Traci playfully warned.

"Do you need some more tea?" Farah asked, now tired of this conversation, and mostly because Traci was winning every point.

"Oh, heavens no. I have to drive home, silly girl," Traci told her as though she'd been drinking something harder than tea.

Farah laughed then told her how much she loved her and got a 'dittoes' in reply.

"Now, let's go pick out what you're going to wear tonight, okay?" Traci said as they took their empty teacups to the kitchen.

Shawn wanted to think about the older beautiful, older woman he was going out with that evening all day long, but he was up to his eyeballs in homework. He also had to put in four hours bussing tables before getting ready to go out with her, so his fantasies would have to wait.

"Farah. With one 'r'," he said out loud as he forced himself to get to work.

The thought made him smile as he returned to analyzing the data he'd been collecting as part of his master's thesis which had to be completed in less than 60 days. The topic he'd chosen would cause the eyes of most people to glaze over, but it was something in which he was very interested: 'The analysis of high temperature effects on piezoelectric based ultrasonic transducers'.

A close second had been: 'Aerodynamic performance analysis and inverse design of horizontal axis wind turbines'. But in the end, the sheer excitement of ultrasonic transducers had won out.

"Ultrasonic transducers. A real page turner," he also said out loud. This time he laughed before getting serious and diving back into his research.

Because of his insanely busy schedule, Shawn was extremely good where time management was concerned. He got his studying done, put his time in at work, made it home and showered then headed to Farah's after verifying her location with his phone/GPS.

He'd also made reservations for two at a restaurant called Livery, one of the nicest places in the city, located on North College Avenue. The one thing he hadn't done was ask Farah what she liked, and maybe more importantly, if there was anything she wouldn't eat.

But it was too late for that now, and by the time he pulled up to her house, he didn't think that would be an issue. He had a feeling about this older woman he was strangely attracted to and felt confident things would work out well with her. He couldn't be sure, and he had no idea how they might 'work out', but he still felt very good about his budding relationship with Farah. With one 'r'.

One of things Shawn already loved about Farah was the way she dressed. As far as he knew from the friends he had it seemed like most men didn't care what a woman wore unless she was wearing something skimpy or nothing at all. Maybe it was the engineer in him, or maybe he was drawn to engineering because of the way his brain worked, but this was just one more thing he tended to notice, and what he'd noticed so far he really liked.

In his mind, a woman who dressed well showed pride in the way she looked. To a point. If a woman was obsessed with her looks, that was as much a turnoff as one who made no effort at all. He didn't know her friend, Traci, well enough to say she was obsessed with her appearance, but he had that initial impression of her.

Farah, on the other hand, did not. She definitely made an effort to look nice, and so far he'd really liked the way she looked both times he'd seen her. At the restaurant where he worked, she looked classy and professional, something he liked a lot. At the club, he felt sure she'd gone out of her way to look a little more sexy, and the leather skirt, which was a very nice touch, had done the trick.

But when she opened the door and let him in a few minutes later, Shawn was having a hard time keeping his jaw shut and his eyes above 'see' level, which would be 'C' level as in...chest, level. It wasn't that Farah was...big. It was just the way she looked in what she was wearing.

Her hair looked amazing, and for the first time, she was wearing full makeup which, unlike many women he'd seen, made her look even more beautiful. Growing up in Indianapolis were it got down below freezing for too often and was only 'very cold' much of the rest of the year—with blazing hot summers the exception—he was very used to seeing women in sweaters.

But the off-white cashmere sweater Farah was wearing was just...gorgeous. Or was it her that made it look so nice to him? And the black, high-waisted skirt she wore with it along with a different pair of heels made her look sensational.

"Wow!" Shawn said before repeating the same word a second time.

"So this is okay?" Farah asked just to be sure.

"Um...yeah. That's...that's definitely okay."

When he 'looked her up and down' not once but twice, she not only wasn't offended, she was flattered.

"I was concerned it might be too plain."

"Too plain. Um...no. Trust me. That is most assuredly not too plain," Shawn assured her.

"I guess after the leather skirt I couldn't help but think you might, you know, expect that sort of thing."

"Farah?" he said as he came inside and closed the door himself. "I'm not interested in you for what you wear, okay? I like your style—a lot—but that's not why I like you so much."

"I'm still struggling with why you do," she told him.

"That's easy," he told her as he smiled.

Very quietly he then said, "You see, you're Marianne."

She heard every word, but his words left her completely lost, and her facial expression told him that was true.

Shawn smiled then explained as she invited him to come in and sit down.

"I told my dad, who's my best friend by the way, that I'd recently met someone; someone special."

"Oh. I see," she replied, even though she 'saw' nothing.

"He's the one who said it. After I described you and your friend. Traci."

Shawn could tell she still didn't get it, so he kept on explaining.

"I've never really watched Gilligan's Island more than a little here and a little there. I've heard of it, of course, but it was way before my time. But my dad grew up watching the reruns in the 70s, and there were three women on the show. One was an older woman married to a tycoon named Thurston Howell, the third. The other two were younger. One was a movie star named Ginger, a beautiful, glamorous redhead. And then there was Marianne, a brunette who wore...less fancy clothes. Evidently, asking whether a guy prefers Ginger or Marianne is a thing because intuitively, everyone should prefer Ginger. But a whole lot of guys answer 'Marianne'. Guys like me."

Farah had never heard it, either, and once she understood, it made sense just like it had when Ben told her he preferred her to Traci.

"Ah, now I get it," she told him with a little laugh. "Just please don't start calling me 'Marianne', okay?"

"I won't. And you really do look sensational," he told her.

"You look very nice yourself, Shawn," she said as he moved even closer.

He was wearing a dark-green sweater and a pair of black pants that looked great on him, but Farah knew Shawn would look good in anything.

She hoped she hadn't blushed when she thought to herself, "Or...nothing."

"Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked as she stepped aside, now that she knew she was his 'Marianne'.

"No thanks. But we should probably get going. We have reservations at Livery in 15 minutes."

"Livery? Shawn, that's a five-star restaurant," Farah said with a concerned look on her face.

"So I've heard," he replied with a smile.

"Well, I don't want you to spend that much money on dinner. We could get some takeout and come back..."

"I made over $300 last night and a little more on Friday. Nothing would make me happier than to spend some of it on dinner. For us."

"Even so, I really would be just as happy with takeout," she told him again.

Shawn narrowed his eyes then said, "Hmmm. Are you sure you're not embarrassed to be seen with me?"

His question surprised her so much she couldn't help but react in a visible way.

"What? No. Of course not. That never even crossed my mind."

He smiled, but even so, Farah said, "If there's anyone who should feel that way it would be you."

Shawn moved back in front of her and reached out for her hands.

"What?" she asked as he took them and looked into her eyes.

"You're amazing," he said with a warm smile.

She wanted to hold his stare, but she couldn't.

When he saw her look down, he quietly said, "You just don't get it, do you?"

"I...I must not," she told him as he looked right at her.

He inched even closer then slowly ran his fingertips along the soft fabric covering her arms and said, "You are so beautiful, you..."

He had no idea if she knew the song from the movie Top Gun or not, but he sang, "You take my breath away," on key and in tune.

Farah not only knew the song, she loved it. Ben had loved the movie, and she'd heard the soundtrack many times, and although he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, he'd once sang it to her himself.

When she began tearing up, Shawn was as confused as she'd just been.

"What's wrong?" he quietly asked.

He had a small kerchief in his pocket and pulled it out and gently dabbed her eyes which never looked at his.

She managed to tell the story without crying, but Shawn could feel the deep emotion in her voice.

"Farah, I...I had no idea," he said by way of apology.

"No! It's okay. I love the song. And you really do have a beautiful voice. It just took me by surprise. That's all."

Shawn moved closer still until their bodies were touching, and Farah thought he was going to kiss her again. In spite of her emotional state of mind, she would have let him, and this time she'd have kissed him back. Instead, he just put his arms around her and held her.

"I really am very sorry you lost your husband," he quietly told her again.

"Thank you," she said as she had before. "And dittoes for your mom."

In spite of the reason they were standing there holding each other, Farah was glad he'd chosen to hug her rather than kiss her, and now she didn't want the hug to end. Traci had helped her through a lot of her concerns about the age difference, a difference she still didn't exactly know, but even so, the way she was feeling still made very little sense to her. And yet, as he held her, it was the only place she wanted to be.

Even so, she forced herself to say, "We don't want to be late, right?" as she slowly moved back and smiled at him and asked, "is my mascara a mess?"

"No. It's perfect," he told her before gently smiling and saying, "just like you."

It had been so long since any man had talked to her like that, and even though she barely knew him, Shawn's words warmed her heart like no others had since Ben was alive.

"I'll uh, I'll just grab my coat, okay?" she said, as she looked away, too afraid to continue looking into his eyes for reasons she couldn't explain but knew, deep down inside of her.

The coat was also an off-white color and Farah looked just as beautiful in it as she had before putting it on.

Shawn walked her outside, opened the car door for her and waited for her to get in. Farah thanked him then watched him walk around, and as he did, she couldn't help but feel there was something very unusual and even...special about this very handsome younger man who made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman on earth; a thought that made her realize that Ben was the only other man who'd ever done that.

When he got in and started the car, she was unaware she'd never stopped looking at him until he looked her way asked if everything was okay.

"Oh. Yes. Everything is...wonderful," she told him, drawing a smile in return before she looked away again.

She'd only been to this particular restaurant once, and it was on her fifth wedding anniversary. She should have been upset or at least melancholy when she walked inside and looked around, but instead she felt...happy.

When they got to their table, Shawn helped Farah with her coat then also helped her get seated. The maitre'd handed them their menus, and Farah was almost afraid to open it up.

"Have anything you like," Shawn told her with a warm smile.

She smiled back then looked down and gasped.

"Oh, my..."

"What? What's wrong?" he asked.

She lowered the menu, looked left then right, then 'loudly whispered', "These prices are outrageous!"

"Oh, that," Shawn replied with a quiet laugh. "The food here is great, so it only makes sense the prices are set accordingly."

She'd forgotten the menu was Mexican-themed until she started reading the items.

A small bowl of soup was $11, and she was thinking she'd have that and call it a meal. But when she mentioned that, Shawn was having none of it.

"Don't make me order for you," he play warned, his head tilted down and one eyebrow raised high.

"Okay, fine. I'll have the Paella," she said with a big sigh.

"Excellent choice," he replied in response to her order of shrimp, scallops, and chorizo fried rice. "I think I'll have the lamb tamale."

Just as their server came over, they laid their menus down.

When she asked what she could bring them for appetizers, Shawn said, "Two Gazpachos and two glasses of..."

He smiled at Farah and asked, "Red or white?"

"White, please," she told him, a smile on her face, as well.

As much as she wanted to know about Shawn, Farah was almost afraid to ask. She wasn't exactly dumb or stupid, she just didn't have any background in math or science, and she thought she'd have no idea what he was talking about. Still, she really wanted to know so she finally asked him.

"You made me talk about myself before, so now it's time for you to tell about Shawn Baker," she informed him.

"Oh, right. I kinda did do that, didn't I?" he replied with a smile. "Okay. You asked for it."

There were quite a few times where she felt lost, but he had a way of explaining things that helped her understand. But the thing she really loved was his passion. He was as enthused about his future career as he was about music, and she already knew he loved singing and playing in the band.

"So do you have any idea at all where you might end up?" she asked, remembering him telling her there weren't many opportunities in Indianapolis.

"No. Not yet. I'm familiar with a lot of the places where a degree in my field is marketable, but I've been too busy trying to graduate to think about resumes."

"I don't know any such place, so could you maybe tell me which cities you're thinking about?"

"The truth is, I don't have a real preference. I'm mostly going to be looking for a job that looks rewarding."

He smiled in a way that made her...tingle...then said, "Now were someone else involved in the decision-making process, that person's opinion would carry a whole lot of weight."

"Oh, I see," Farah told him with a very nice smile of her own.

"The cities are Hartford, Connecticut, Huntsville, Alabama, Los Angeles, Palm Bay, Florida, Philadelphia, Savannah, Georgia, Wichita, Kansas, and Washington, DC. Oh, Boston is also on the list as is Dallas, Texas, and a handful of other cities."

"Does cost of living matter?" she asked, her prudent side showing.

"Again, if it's just me, no. But if I had say...a beautiful woman in my life...and if that mattered to her, then it would become very important to me."

"Ah. Good to know," she said before asking if weather played any role.

"Honestly? I'd like to live somewhere I could get outside and ride my bike a lot. It's a little tough her when it gets down around 20 degrees or less."

He laughed when he said it, but Farah understood. She wasn't an exercise person, but as she saw Shawn's enthusiasm about bicycle riding, she thought she could see herself riding along with him. Unless...

"You're not a Lance Armstrong kind of rider, are you?"

Shawn chuckled and assured her he was not—either in terms of his skill level or using steroids.

After a second glass of wine, Farah couldn't believe two hours had already passed. There'd barely been a lull in the conversation the entire time, and suddenly it was already time to go.

They talked all the way back to her place, as well, and once they got to her doorstep, she asked if he'd like to come in.

"To talk," she emphasized.

"I'd like that. A lot," he told her. There was always work to do, but he'd cleared his calendar to spend time with Farah, and he wasn't about to leave as long as she wanted him around.

A third glass of wine was out of the question for both of them, but she did make some decaf coffee which neither of them of them drank because, as they later agreed, 'decaf coffee' was a true oxymoron.