The House

She didn't hear from him again until Tuesday at the office. He said he had an appointment in the neighborhood, and invited her to lunch. She met him at the Big Four at one o'clock. He was wearing a blazer and slacks and looked very handsome. She had his house pin on her lapel.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he inquired cautiously, halfway through lunch. It had been the whole purpose of the invitation. She had suspected nothing.

“How do you feel about dating?” She didn't understand the question.

“Generally, specifically, or as a social custom? At the moment I'm not sure I remember how you do it.” She hadn't been on a date in four months, since she broke up with Phil, or with anyone else for four years before that. “I'm a little rusty.”

“Me too. I meant specifically, as in us.”

“As in us? Now?”

“Well, okay. If you want to consider this a date. We could call this our first. But I was thinking more like dinner, and movies, kissing, you know all that stuff people do while dating.” She smiled at him across the table. He looked nervous. She reached out and took his hand.

“Actually, I like the kissing part. But dinner and movies would be nice, too.”

“Good,” he said, looking relieved. “Then do we consider this our first date, or is this just a practice round?”

“Either way. What do you think?”

“Practice, I think. I think we should start with dinner. How about tomorrow?”

“That sounds good,” she said, smiling at him. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I didn't want to be pushy, or look too anxious.”

“You're doing fine.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I haven't actually done this in fourteen years. Come to think of it, it's about goddamned time.” He smiled broadly at her across the table, and when they left the restaurant, they were holding hands. He walked her back to her office, and picked her up at eight that night. They went to a little Italian place on Fillmore Street that was in walking distance from her house. It was going to be his neighborhood soon, too, when he moved.

When he walked her back to her place, he stopped outside her front door and kissed her. “I think that makes this our first official date. Do you agree?”

“Absolutely,” she whispered, and he kissed her again. She unlocked her front door, and he kissed her one last time, and then got in his car and drove home, smiling to himself. He was thinking that Marie-Louise had done him the biggest favor in the world when she went back to Paris.

As Sarah walked slowly up the stairs to her new bedroom, she was thinking of Pierre's words to her again. Find a good one. You deserve it. She knew without a doubt, she just had.

Chapter 19

Sarah gave her first dinner party on Scott Street the weekend after she moved in. She set the table in her kitchen, and invited Mimi and George, her mother, and Jeff. She was going to introduce him as the architect who was helping her with the house, which explained his being there, without telling her family yet that they were dating. It was still very new, and she wasn't ready to share that information with them yet. But it was an easy way for them to meet him. He told her on the phone the day before that he was nervous about it. She told him she thought her mother would be fine, her grandmother was adorable, and George was easy. He was only slightly reassured. This was important to him, he didn't want to blow it.

They had already seen each other three times that week. He came by one night with Indian curry (hot for him, mild for her), while she started painting her dressing room. Her hair was already splattered with pink paint by the time he got there, and he laughingly showed her how to do it, and then wound up helping her. They forgot to eat till after midnight, but the dressing room looked great when Sarah woke up the next morning and rushed to check the color. Powder pink, just as she wanted, in nice, clean, smooth strokes.