Jim and Edie Again Ch. 01-03

By Friday lunch, some internal clock started to count down to Saturday's lunch -- twenty-four hours to doomsday -- the casual lunch where I'd fall apart and blubber uncontrollably. I seemed to be looking at the clock every five minutes. I'd had an appointment in the morning to get my hair done, and in the afternoon to get a pedicure and manicure. I'd been to Saks Fifth Avenue the day before and bought a new outfit to wear -- designer jeans and a lightly flowered top that looked mostly off white except for the delicate and muted rainbow pattern; I though the combination made me look feminine, played up by best parts, and ducked the favorite color issue I'd worried about on Tuesday.

I also tried on every pair of shoes I had, trying to find the pair that was 'just right' to wear to our lunch. Should I wear some three or four-inch heels, or just sandals. The former was more formal, but gave me a younger and sexier look. The latter were comfortable, convenient, and would show off my new pedicure. In the end I chose my sandals -- the ones with a few rhinestone studs to decorate the straps. I easily had sixty pairs of shoes and I'd tried on every one of them.

Saturday morning, I was up early again, and dressed and ready to go at nine o'clock. Lloyd's was only a ten-minute drive from my house. Why was the clock moving so slowly? I kept touching up and retouching my makeup, at one point removing it all and starting over again to emphasize the more natural me. This wasn't a photoshoot; we were just having a casual lunch. I couldn't remember ever being this nervous.

I sat in my car just outside my garage at eleven-forty-five, starting the engine and checking to be sure I had enough gas to get to the restaurant. I had a full tank because I'd filled the car the day before to be sure. I didn't want to arrive early. I waited, playing with the radio. I wondered what kind of music Jim liked.

At five minutes of twelve, I drove to Lloyd's. I found a parking space and as I walked past the patio, Jim intercepted me. He said in a friendly tone, "It's such a nice day, I got us a table outdoors. I hope that's all right. We can go inside if you think it's too chilly or sunny or anything." He sounded very solicitous.

I was generating heat like the back of the sun I was so nervous. "Oh, no. Outdoors is good. Thank you for getting us a table. I'm sorry I'm a few minutes late." I wasn't really sorry.

"Not a big deal." Jim held the chair for me as I sat. Why had this custom fallen by the wayside?

As he sat opposite me, all I wanted to do was stare at him and soak in the details of this man. He exuded all the things I liked in Harry ... and then some. I was truly enthralled with Jim.

Oddly enough we chatted about the Florida weather for a few minutes until a waitress brought us menus. I wondered about our slow start on meaningful conversation, but it felt comfortable making small talk. I glanced at my watch, and it read twelve-ten.

At four o'clock that afternoon, Jim suggested we take a walk on the beach. We'd been talking nonstop for four hours and were the only customers left at Lloyds -- inside and out -- until their dinner crowd started to arrive. I was feeling unbelievably comfortable with this man. We had so much in common, and yet there were huge areas about each other's lives that we found refreshingly wonderful to explore about each other. There were surprises too, for instance, we'd both been to a couple of the same rock concerts, and we had the same dentist.

Where did four hours go? We ate. We found each other fascinating. Jim admitted to feeling intimidated by my beauty, my Miss Iowa award, and my modeling career. After we talked about the pluses and minuses about that side of my life, he understood that his image of the profession was a little one-sided. We also talked about the curse of being born beautiful: how I'd sat home for some of the school proms because no one dared ask me out, or how I'd get hit on everywhere I went -- even now occasionally, and how I often tried to hide away to avoid some of the negatives.

I talked about how his career at NASA had intimidated me. He described the work and how he happened to get ahead, and it all just seemed like a normal progression from when he was interested in science in high school, through being a reasonably smart man with an engineering degree, and then getting the government job with NASA after graduation. He made it seem like he was nothing special, and that helped me accept him for who he was.

We had a long talk about God, and how we were spiritual but not religious. We'd both moved past the vengeful God in the sky wearing a big white robe with a gold 'G' on the pocket and admitting only a chosen few into some heaven within the clouds, to something more akin to Nature or the Universal Energy where we were all connected as spiritual beings having a human existence.

My home was on the way to the beach. Jim followed me there as I drove home and waited outside while I ran inside and did a quick change into a bathing suit and a light-weight hoodie. Somehow, by the time I got outside to ride with Jim, he'd dispensed with his long pants and was wearing cargo shorts. He smiled and explained that he'd changed in the car. He must have planned ahead.

We walked about three miles or more along the beach at a slow pace. As soon as we got to the shoreline, Jim held his hand out to me and I took it. The only time we weren't holding hands after that was when one of us saw an interesting shell or a sand dollar in the surf or along the water's edge.

Our connection was electric. From the time our hands touched, it was like I could feel electric energy surging back and forth between us. I could tell that Jim was feeling good about our connection too by the way he kept smiling at me, and urging me to talk more about whatever subject we'd touched upon. He was so solicitous; I had a hard time not letting it go to my head.

We got back to his car and went through the task of dusting the sand from our feet. Jim had me sit in the passenger's seat with my feet outside the car, and he dried and massaged each foot. It was so sexy and made me feel so special. I was sure glad I'd gotten a pedicure.

Then came the big moment of the day so far. Jim leaned into the car where I sat and kissed me. I was so ready and so desirous of his affection. I saw it coming. I looked up into his eyes and smiled as he leaned in, my eyes closed, and our lips met, and everything in the world came to a standstill. I didn't want the kiss to end, but it did. That was all right because another one came right behind that one. I was into the scene. I put my arm around Jim's neck to let him know I wanted him close, and that I didn't want him to stop.

We kissed several more times, and then he pulled away. He made a huge sigh, obviously regretting having stopped. He ran his fingers down my face, made sure I was seated okay, and then shut my door.

As he got in the driver's side of the car, he asked, "Hungry again?"

I nodded, but gestured to how casually we were dressed. "I should change."

Jim shook his head negatively, indicating that I didn't have to change for what he had in mind. He drove for five minutes to a place on the bay that looked like a dive called the Beach Shack. The building didn't look like it would survive a modest wind, and there were a few cars around plus six large black motorcycles. I suddenly worried about where we were going. The place was a biker bar.

The week leading up to my date with Edie was absolutely painful. I wished I'd been working again, because I could have at least lost myself in my work. Being retired didn't offer that option. I constantly thought about the date and all the ways I could screw it up.

I arrived at Lloyd's Restaurant a half-hour early. I got us an outdoor table near the flowered gardens. I also went to the bathroom twice before she arrived. I couldn't remember having this much anxiety, even when we were launching a new rocket into space that had cost hundreds of millions to prepare and it was My Budget of taxpayer money.

We talked about everything after we got started. She was so much fun, and went out of her way to put me at ease. I tried to do likewise, even confessing how her modeling career had influenced my thinking about her. We had a lot of coffee after lunch, and somewhere around four o'clock I wondered if we should end our lunch, except I didn't want to leave her.

We got over what turned out to be a mutual worry about being on a date with each other. Between her flamboyant career and my work in aerospace, it turned out we were both intimidated of the other. We talked through those feelings, and put them aside.

I suggested a beach walk and Edie jumped at the opportunity for us to stay together. She even said, "Oh good, I didn't want our date to end." Just those words made me feel so good.

As we got on the beach I wondered if Edie felt that our burgeoning relationship was at all special. I held my hand out to see if she wanted to hold hands, and she did. Not only that, but once we'd latched onto each other, neither of us wanted to let go. I took the handholding as a special indication that something nice was happening between us.

Holding hands with a pretty girl, the prettiest on the beach and probably in the country, and walking along I felt so proud that she'd chosen me to be with that afternoon. I felt like a teenager on a first date, and it was with the prom queen.

When we got back to the car, I cleaned up her feet. They were beautiful, and all properly proportioned to her body, and smooth, with no ugly bumps or bruises. Her toes were beautiful and the nails painted a very feminine shade of pink. I wanted to kiss them but held back otherwise she'd think I was too kinky.

As I stood, I decided to be daring and to kiss Edie. If she didn't want that, she was nearly my age and she could say something. I leaned into the car and kissed her. She latched onto me and held me close. We ended up kissing a couple of dozen times. I realized I was holding my breath, savoring each kiss. I had to stand and almost gasp for air eventually.

The dinner hour had arrived, so I suggested dinner. She was worried about going to a restaurant in our beach attire. I told her not to worry.

I drove to the Beach Shack, a place where my late wife and I used to routinely go. We'd been known there, and despite the eclectic crowd and the downscale décor, the place served great food.

As we walked in, I got a hardy shout of 'JIM!' from the bar. The bartender, Dan, came racing around the end of the bar and gave me a bear hug.

Dan enthused, "God, it's good to see you. We heard about your wife back a while ago, and I just figured we'd lost you. I'm so glad you've graced our doors again. We've missed you." He turned and grinned at Edie, "Is this your new lady?"

I laughed, "This is our first date, but yes, it looks like she's going to be my new lady."

"Dan Wisnieuski at your service ma'am ... and welcome to the best dive in town, and the greatest seafood within a hundred miles." He laughed, but clearly sized up Edie. She looked like a million dollars. While I looked my age, Edie, I realized, looked more like she was about forty or even younger.

Dan urged us to come and sit at the bar, and Edie nodded that'd be acceptable. Soon we'd met several of the couples from the Harley Davidson's outside -- a thoracic surgeon and his wife, a lawyer and girlfriend, and a civil engineer and his live-in partner who ran a software company. They were neighbors.

Edie confessed to me that she had a stereotype about Harley owners left over from a Marlon Brando movie calledThe Wild One. After talking to the other couples, particularly the surgeon's wife, I think Edie wanted a ride. I made a mental note about that as something to come back to for another date. Earlier in my life I'd had a small motorcycle for about ten years, but it was warm weather-weekend fun only, and Diane usually chose not to ride with me.

Everyone in the Beach Shack welcomed me back like a long, lost son -- waiters, waitresses, and even the cook came out to greet me. Between conversations with my old friends, Edie made me tell her about why I was so well-known here. That triggered some revelations by me about my plebian dining habits, Diane, and my marriage. I talked enough to let Edie know we'd had a solid marriage, produced a couple of good kids who were doing well on their own, and that I was well through the grief cycle about losing Diane.

Edie returned the favor based on my questions, talking about Harry.

Somewhere along the line we had one of the Beach Shack's top-notch seafood dinners and a bottle of wine. We also talked ... and talked ... and talked. Neither Edie nor I were aware of the time, until Dan came over to the table. He pulled up a chair.

Dan said, "I know you two are really hitting it off, it's obvious just watching the two of you; but I have to kick you out of this joint. It's closing time."

I glanced around. No one else was in the place. Even the kitchen and wait staff had left.

Dan said, "You've been in here about six hours. I have your tab, but it's past midnight, and I'm the only one left here. It's quiet for a Saturday night for some reason, so I thought I'd go home early ... if you don't mind."

I apologized for overstaying our welcome. Settled up with Dan and left a large tip, and then we walked out to my car as Dan started to flip off the lights for the place.

I turned to Edie, "I guess I'd better get Cinderella home."

Edie put her arms around my neck, and pulled me to her for a kiss. "I haven't enjoyed a date or non-date, or whatever this was, so much in ... ever. Thank you."

We stood there necking in the parking lot -- a nearly sixty-year-old man, and a fifty-eight-year-old woman. I laughed inside about how much we were like a couple of teenagers with an overdose of hormones.

Dan came out of the Beach Shack, locked up the front door, and looked at the two of us standing with her in my arms by the car. He yelled over to the two of us, "Get a room." Waved and disappeared into his car and drove away.

In the dim light, I looked at Edie. I said, "That thought scares me for some reason."

"Getting a room?" Edie asked.

I nodded.

"Me too," she whispered. "We don't have to decide right now - tonight."

"I know. There's another long discussion there."

I paused, kissed Edie again, and said, "Let me take you home."

She got in the car and I shut the door for her, and then walked around and got in the driver's seat. I drove us the few miles to her door.

As we kissed goodnight on her door stoop, she said, "You'll call, right?"

"What time is good? Tomorrow evening?"

She nodded, "Yes, please."

"I think we both need to process what happened today. I know I do."

Edie smiled, "Don't over analyze this. This was a good day. No, on second thought, it was a great day."

"I won't, but I do like the trajectory."

"Me too, and you're talking like a NASA engineer again." She poked me gently in my side to emphasize her teasing.

"Goodnight, Cinderella."

"Goodnight, Prince Charming."

Saturday had been a blur. We were together nearly constantly for over twelve hours.

I had three calls from Rita on my answering machine and one from Mindy. Rita told me in the last message that since it was ten o'clock at night and I wasn't home, she was very pleased that I was still apparently on my 'lunch date'. I knew I'd have to talk to her the next morning or face a firing squad for failing to reveal top secret information.

About nine o'clock the next morning, Rita called. "OK, spill the beans. What happened?"

I described the physical features of our date: sat at Lloyds for four hours, walked beach for two hours, sat at the Beach Shack for six hours, but somehow that didn't satisfy Rita. She pushed and prodded about what we'd talked about, and how we felt about each other.

Only through my discussions about 'feelings' with Rita, did I realize that I was falling pretty hard for Jim. Every time I thought of him -- sitting together in the afternoon sun, holding hands as we walked the beach, holding hands across a table at the Beach Shack -- I got all warm and fuzzy. I had worse than a teenage crush on the man. I think I was ready to live the rest of my life with him. I had it bad.

I cursed myself after hanging up with Rita. This was just what I had been scared about, suddenly developing an attachment for some man that wasn't Harry.

I got cold feet as the afternoon wore on. I felt sure Jim wouldn't call, that I was just an interesting diversion for a Saturday, that he had other irons in the fire he didn't mention -- other women who he liked ... more than me. He'd admitted I had intimidated him, and at the time I thought we'd gotten past that, but maybe he'd reconsidered the way he felt and I was a lost cause. I'd again be the pretty girl that no one asked to the prom because no one thought they could measure up. Was I doomed to relive my past as a teenager?

I fretted around the house all afternoon, alternating between sweet thoughts about what had happened and how I'd felt as I got home last night, warm with the few kisses we'd shared, and then the disaster I was turning into because my self-confidence and trust that things would work out were crashing to earth faster than a meteor burning through the atmosphere.

I decided to drink alone. I opened a bottle of wine and poured myself what I thought to be a stiff drink of the Chardonnay. I was pretty low by that point. I'd been down on myself for over four hours, the better part of the afternoon. I felt lower than whale shit.

At five-thirty the doorbell rang.

I plodded to the front door barefoot, wondering which of my neighbors might be stopping by and for some reason.

I flung open the door, and there stood Jim holding a huge bouquet of roses.

I just sobbed and threw myself into his arms, wrapping my arms around him. I choked out, "I was ... sure ... you ... wouldn't ... call." I started to cry happy tears that he was there.

Jim kissed my forehead. He said, "I didn't call. I couldn't stand to be away from you another minute, so I had to come by. I hope ..."

Jim didn't get any other words out because my mouth was on his, kissing him in a way to let him know that I approved wholeheartedly of his failing to call. I think he got the idea in the first sixty microseconds.

I pulled him inside, and into my living room. I pushed him down on the sofa, and then sat in his lap, after which I again started to kiss him with renewed passion. The flowers lay on the floor nearby where I'd carefully set them down. Jim showing up was beyond my wildest dreams. He liked me. He was going to stay in my life.

After a pause in our kisses I confessed, "I sort of worked myself up about you ... that you wouldn't call. That you didn't like me."

Jim said, "Oh, it feels like so much more than 'like' to me right now. I barely slept; you made such an impression on me. I hemmed and hawed all day long about whether to come over. Finally, I couldn't stand it. I had to know if you felt the same way I do."

"I do. I do," I practically shouted as I kissed him again and held his face.

Jim said, "At the risk of moving too fast ... would you ... be my steady girlfriend."

"OH YES," I enthused and was kissing him madly again. I added, "Anything. Anything you want. I'm yours. Body, mind, and spirit. You have the whole package. Me -- anyway you want me."

Jim said, "Well, let's ... just be together a lot, and we can see where we end up."

I suddenly appreciated that he was being level headed, and acting cautiously. I know from our kisses that there was no doubt about how he felt, but he was thinking longer term than how we felt at that instant. I hugged him with all my might.