Elle
Nate surprised me by driving us to a small Italian family style restaurant named ‘Tuscany’ on the other side of town. I’d lived in this city my entire life and never heard of the place. He’d been surprising me all day. First showing up at our house to work with Jimmy. Then, the whole asking me to the movies thing. Showing up to our house in a button-down shirt and jeans looking hotter than a boy should be allowed to look. And finally, not pitching a fit when I said I didn’t want to see a movie.
Yes, Nate was full of surprises.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see a movie. Not really. It was just there was just no way I wanted to sit in the dark for two hours next to Nate Clark. The tension would have killed me. No, better that we spent the time in a neutral environment. Somewhere with other people.
I hopped out of the truck and let him lead me to the restaurant.
A welcoming wave of garlic and basil and happiness greeted us. “The chicken parmesan is excellent,” he said as his hand touched my lower back while he escorted me through the door.
Okay, a girl could get used to this. Sure, the buzzing butterflies were a distraction. And the constant need to watch what I said, was a bother. But being the center of Nate’s attention could become addicting.
The hostess smiled at us and took us to a secluded table in the back. I swear the woman smiled at us like we were ‘Lady and Tramp’ getting ready to share a meal. Nate’s remark about finding a spot up at the park and making out all night jumped into the front of my brain and refused to leave.
He held my chair for me then sat down and smiled.
It seemed that Nathan Clark could be a gentleman when he wanted to be. Interesting, what other special talents did he possess? I wondered.
“So, Elle,” he said as he opened his menu. “I must warn you, I usually save fancy restaurants until the second or third date, so don’t go getting any ideas. First date rules still apply. No deep dark secrets revealed. No looking at other guys, wishing you were with them. And of course, No sex,” he said with a quick laugh. “At least not unless you get me drunk first,” he added with a smirk.
I laughed, and then a warm relief washed through me. Nate was trying to make this easy. We were going to have a drama-free meal. Two friends. Or at least, potential friends, with a common cause. Protecting Jimmy.
Once I understood where I was at, and what this all meant, I was able to relax and enjoy myself. There was no significant meaning behind everything. Just good food and good conversation.
After the waitress left with our order - I got the chicken parm of course – I folded my hands in my lap and looked around the restaurant. Deep down, I was sort of upset that I wouldn’t run into any of my friends here. I would have liked to see their reaction when they saw me out with Nate. Correction, I would have loved to see their reaction.
“So tell me about yourself,” Nate said with a false seriousness. “What are your hopes, dreams, fears, and secret desires? And I want full details on the secret desires part.”
I laughed. “There is not much to tell. Happy home, loving mother, overbearing at times, but loving. The greatest Nana in the world. Weird genius brother. Two more years then I am off to college and real life.”
It sounded so boring when I said it.
“Where’s your dad? Do you get to see him?” Nate asked.
My stomach tightened up into a ball. It really shouldn’t have, but it did. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I don’t have a father.”
Nate’s brow creased into a deep frown as he said, “Strange, your mother didn’t strike me as the virgin birth type.”
I tried not to smile as I shook my head. “Nope, modern science, and test tubes. Both Jimmy and me. The same donation, just four years apart. Mom was a big believer in the words of Gloria Steinem.”
Nate continued to frown and said, “You lost me?”
“You know, the famous quote, ‘A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. Ms. Steinem didn’t originate the quote of course. Some woman in Australia did. But she popularized it and my mom sort of took it on as her personal mission in life.”
Why was I babbling? About this subject of all subjects. Shut up Elle, I told myself as I quickly grabbed a breadstick and hoped the world would go away.
Nate pursed his lips for a moment and asked, “What do you think?”
I looked back at him for a moment. No one had ever asked me that. What I thought on the subject. Mom dictated what we should think and the matter was closed.
Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “I don’t know. I don’t know if a woman needs a man to find happiness, or vice versa for that matter. I think everyone needs different things. But I do know that a child needs a father.”
A strange look passed behind his eyes as he slowly nodded in agreement.
“What about you?” I asked, “what are your parents like?”
He grimaced a little, he tried to hide it, but it was there.
“Oh no,” he said, “First date rules. The guy doesn’t talk about himself. He has to make sure only the girl talks about herself. It’s a rule.”
I laughed, “You’re lying,”
He laughed back, “How do you know?”
“Because your lips were moving. Come on spill.”
He was suddenly silent for a long second then he shrugged his shoulders and said, “They both died when I was ten. I lived with my Aunt Mary and Uncle Jake in Seattle, then moved down here with my Uncle Jake earlier this summer when my aunt died.”
My heart cracked. You idiot, I thought to myself as I saw again the pain behind his eyes. Why had I pushed? Why couldn’t I just let things alone? What must it have been like? I groused about never having a father. It must have been so much worse to have lost one. And his mother as well. And his aunt.
My mind frantically tried to think of the right thing to say.
“Hey, enough sad stories,” Nate said as he took a long sip of water. “Those are definitely reserved for the second date. Now it is all supposed to be just the good parts. I make jokes, you laugh like they’re funny.”
I swallowed hard and fought to keep a tear from forming. He was still in a lot of pain, I realized. Even eight years later and he still felt deeply about his loss. It seemed that Mr. Nate Clark had a lot more layers than I had thought.
Thankfully, the waitress interrupted us with our meal and we were able to shift to easier topics. Like the fact he had been right about how good the chicken parm was.
We switched to common stuff, discussing favorite books, music, the differences between Seattle and California. Everything safe, everything easy. But things had changed between us. Just a little. Just enough to make me look at him in a new light.