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Gemma puts down the clipboard she was holding and gives me her full attention. “Oh really?”
“We just spoke quickly, but I gave him my number and he texted me to go to dinner at his place tonight.” I walk over to the candles and take a whiff of the coconut one.
“Stop it.” Gemma looks around to make sure no other customers are near. “Do you think he’s hot? I mean, he’s hot. And single. You should go.”
I roll my eyes and laugh as I put down the coconut candle and wander over to a display of necklaces. “He is hot. And yes, I’m going. But I don’t know if it’s a date. I told him I would help brainstorm promotion ideas to raise money to rebuild the clubhouse.” I pick up a rose gold charmed necklace and admire it against my chest in the mirror.
“Sure, the clubhouse. You two go ahead and explore those ideas, and maybe each other, while you’re at it. Ethan has been single for so long. I don’t know what his deal is, but maybe you’ll find out. So, what are you going to wear?” Gemma walks over and puts a summer fedora on my head.
“That’s why I’m here,” I say. I quickly remove the hat. I love it. Sold.
“No,” Gemma says. “That’s why I’m here.” She grabs my arm, shows me to a dressing room and begins throwing shirts over the door.
I step out and show her each option. I like something about all of them, but decide one is the winner. It’s a red crop top that looks super sexy, but also super laid back. We pick out a long gold necklace, beaded with colorful stones that will drape nicely down my chest.
“Please send me a selfie before you leave so I can see how smokin’ you are.” Gemma rings up my order. I refuse to accept her friends and family discount, though my bank account statement will probably scare me in a few weeks.
“You got it.” I hug her goodbye and head home.
Home. My new home. In my old town. Where I’m going to meet my ex-boyfriend for dinner. Somehow, my new start is beginning with my past. I wonder if that’s a good thing. But progress is progress. I’m moving forward. New apartment, maybe a new job, sooner rather than later, and a new dating life that is maybe starting now. As I walk down the sidewalk to my car, I look up at the sky, take a deep breath, and exhale. For a second, I feel limitless.
Okay, I also feel really nervous. My stomach feels like one hundred butterflies were just let loose. Do I even know how to go on a date? If this is a date. I’m worried the crop top might be overdoing it now. I debate just wearing a T-shirt so Ethan thinks I’m totally uncomplicated and casual. But of course, that is the furthest thing from the truth.
A while later, I decide I still need to calm my sudden nerves before I get to Ethan’s. In my car, I turn on my playlist and pick my favorite 5 Leo Hearts pump up jam. This will do the trick. The ride to Ethan’s house is literally the same length of time as the song. I turn off my engine, step out of my car, and close the door with a mission. Tonight, I’m going to let go and let fate take the wheel.
Ethan’s house is stately. It’s a corner house with dark blue siding and gray stone in the front. There’s a complementing gray stone wall surrounding the house. The lawn is a lush and hydrated dark green. There are yellow tulips planted in a small garden in front and perfectly landscaped bushes. It’s well-kept, just as I would expect.
I don’t get a chance to ring the doorbell, because Ethan has the front storm door open and can see me coming through the glass screen door. He immediately opens it and embraces me in a hug. Ethan lifts me off my feet and then places his arm around my waist as he welcomes me inside. I see him glance up and down and know I chose the right outfit. He’s wearing cargo shorts and a T-shirt.
“This is gorgeous,” I say. Ethan leads me inside.
“Thanks. I put a lot of work into this place when I renovated it. I want this to be my forever home. Hopefully raise a family here one day to give kids the memories I had growing up. It’s such a special community.”
We walk through the living room. It’s sterile and filled only with essentials, like a TV and couches. Total bachelor pad. There’s not one sign of a woman’s touch.
“There’s definitely no other place like it. As much as people love New York City, and as much fun as I had there, I’d never want to raise kids there. There’s something about walking down the beach that makes me feel more alive than walking down a city street.”
Ethan brings me into the kitchen, which is basically the size of my apartment. The center island is navy blue and all the hardware on the cabinets is gold. He has a spectacular eye for design. On the island, he has laid out a salad bowl and tossing utensils.
“I thought we’d make a salad,” Ethan says. “I recently saw a post online about mango, walnut, and cheese drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette dressing. I’ll grill some chicken to throw in, if that’s cool with you. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
I’m impressed he asks if I’m vegetarian. Usually people just assume that everyone eats meat. “I actually try to stick to a mostly pescatarian diet, but I do eat chicken from time to time. Sounds great. What can I do?”
Ethan hands me the lettuce and salad spinner. “You can start washing the lettuce and I’ll prep the chicken.”
“It’ll be nice to have a home-cooked meal. Since the move, I’ve been mostly living on take-out.”
“Speaking of the move, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened with you and your husband?” I can tell Ethan is trying to get the details out of me as smoothly as possible. And I’m ready for this conversation. I’ve rehearsed my response in preparation for an ambush of inquiries upon my arrival back home.
“Honestly, it was a long time coming. We were unhappy together and mutually decided to divorce. I’m looking at the end of my marriage as a new beginning.” I spin the salad, hoping this topic won’t continue in circles.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Speaking from past experience, I know breaking up with you can be hard on a guy. But it sounds like you have a really forward-thinking outlook on things.”
Ethan stops slicing the mango, wipes his hands on a towel, and hands me a glass of sparkling water. He must remember that in high school, I never drank. I’ve remained straight-edge my entire life. Abstaining from alcohol, drugs, and smoking was not hard for me because I was never interested in altering my mind or behavior. I accept the glass of water as Ethan picks up his own. He clinks his glass to mine.
“Here’s to new beginnings,” Ethan says.
“To new beginnings,” I say. There’s a sizzle between us that I think we can both feel. Ethan’s hand lingers near mine for a second and I’m transported back down the halls of high school, as he held my hands on the way to class. But now, when I look at his eyes, I see tiny creases in the corners. There’s a history behind those crevices. And I want to know the story of how Ethan, the varsity football player that every girl crushed on, became Ethan the successful financial analyst, still single at age 30.
