Chapter 9

The Tahoe was waiting for me outside the front door, pointed down the drive toward the evening’s escapades. Dad clearly knew me pretty well. I got in to find a listing of flower stores printed out and placed on the passenger seat. It was half-past five, and I had just enough time to make my way to one of them and then back to pick up my date. I was nervous as well, given that this was my first official date too, but I think my encounter with Amber had given me enough confidence to weather whatever came my way.

Tires screeching, I pulled into the parking lot of the first flower shop on the list. Someone had organized their research to provide the florist’s businesses in order of their proximity to the Emerson’s home. I made it to the door just as the lady inside was coming to turn the sign around, indicating she was calling it a day.

“Please, Ma’am, first date and everything. I need flowers.”

She smiled, inviting me in and then locking the door behind me. Whatever happened, I would be her last sale of the day. She strode back behind the counter and watched me as I took a nervous look around.

“So what are the two of you doing tonight?”

Oh, good, she was willing to be helpful. “Um, church social, dance I think.”

“Okay, so corsage. Wrist or pin?”

My confused look must have amused her.

“Do we want one to go on her wrist, or get pinned to her dress?”

I still couldn’t answer. She sighed.

“Let’s start at the beginning. What does she look like?”

I shook my head.

“Is she tall or short? Skinny or robust? Blonde? Brunette? Redhead?”

This dating was more intimidating than I thought it would be. I liked it better when the girls came up to me and started flirting.

“What will she be wearing?”

I had no answers, causing the flower lady to put her head in her hands.

I looked around the shop, hoping to find some inspiration, and that’s when I saw them. There was a bucket in the corner with the most perfect long-stemmed red rose buds. They were priced at $60 for a dozen, but I didn’t care, I would have paid twice that just to get the inquisition over with. I dashed over to pull them from the bucket and bring them back to the counter. “I’ll take these, I think.”

“Good call, Romeo. You can never go wrong with roses.” She rang me up, letting me pay with one of the hundreds Bill had slipped me. I was escorted along with my purchase to the door. “Don’t worry, just be yourself and have a good time. Pay attention to her, and everything will work out.”

I slipped out the door, hearing the proprietor lock it behind me. Strangely, the echo of Mom’s advice to me calmed my nerves as I hopped into the Tahoe. It started smoothly, idling powerfully in the parking lot while I programmed first Amanda’s address and then the church address into the navigation system as waypoints.

I made the drive to the Black residence on autopilot, thinking about the potential for disaster that this night represented. If I screwed up, it could leave me and Dad persona non grata in Chicago for a long time to come. The Emersons could refuse to have anything to do with us after this evening. I wondered why tonight was so much more difficult than flirting with Roxanne or Amber, or even escorting Mom’s students on the dance floor. I worried at it until it came to me.

Tonight was different because it was planned and it ran the whole social gamut from meeting the parents, to the girl, to the date where her friends would be and so on and so on. The others had been chance encounters where it was only a small aspect of the entire game, and the encounters happened in the moment, allowing me to go with the flow. Even the dance floor was a highly structured component, where the entire interaction was constrained by rules that everyone understood.

This social was out of anyone’s control, with none of the parties knowing exactly what would happen. I suspect that’s why there was an itinerary tucked into my suit jacket somewhere – to gain a little of that control back for the Black’s daughter, taking some of the uncertainty out of the equation. Well, okay then. There was only one thing that I could control, and that was me and my responses. I determined to stay ‘in the moment’ tonight, as that was when the best things seemed to happen to me.

The walk from the door of the Tahoe to the door of the Black’s home was made much less intimidating by my decision. I knocked on the door. They were obviously waiting for me, as it was almost immediately opened by a man about my height, although of slighter build. A smile crossed his face as he welcomed me into the house. He closed the door behind me, noting I’m sure, the roses I held behind my back.

“Don Black,” he said as he took my right hand in his and pumped a couple of times, “and you must be Tim McKenzie. Welcome to our home.” He turned, “I believe you’ve already met my wife and my mother-in-law.”

I acknowledged I had before walking over to them and greeting them more formally. Mrs. Black’s eyes widened as she saw what I was unsuccessfully able to hide behind me. I think she finally realized that we were officially off-script.

“Uh, is Amanda ready?” I asked, not sure of the protocol expected of me.

Mrs. Swift chuckled, “I’ll go see what’s keeping her.”

She left us, climbing the stairs at the end of the entrance way, vanishing into the family suites on the second story. She must not have closed the door behind her when she entered the room where Amanda was hiding, as some snippets of their conversation escaped to be caught by my ears.

“Gramma, I can’t do this. You saw the itinerary. I’m going to be so embarrassed at church.” That was Amanda, obviously. She had a nice voice when it wasn’t screaming “Ohmygod, ohmygod,” from the tinny speakers of her aunt’s cell phone.

Mrs. Swift’s laughter carried very well. “Mandy, honey, don’t worry about it. If I’m not mistaken, I think your date took care of the itinerary for the both of you. Now, finish making yourself beautiful, go downstairs, march up to Timothy, tell him how nice he looks this evening, pose for a few pictures, and then go to your social. It will all be okay.”

That reminded me, and I turned to the parents. “Mrs. Black, I know you expected us to be back at your sister’s place by midnight, but I was hoping that you’d allow us to change that to one. I promise you that Amanda will be in good hands the whole time.”

Mr. Black barked a laugh. “Not quite the ultimatum your sister led you to expect, was it Kathryn?”

I watched her as she blushed and then, wringing her hands, look up at me. “That would be fine Timothy. We’ll see the two of you at Angie and Bill’s at one.”

There was movement at the top of the stairs, drawing everyone’s attention upwards. Out of nowhere a smallish man with a camera appeared beside me, snapping pictures as my date descended the family staircase like royalty. I’m glad that Amanda adhered to the standards set in the family tree. The Swift women were real beauties: Emily, Kathryn, Angie, Tara and Sandy, and now that I had seen her, I could include Amanda in their company.

She walked down and gracefully moved to face me. I could tell she had dance training in her background, ballet at least. I hoped that she had experience with some additional and less formal styles too. She was wearing the proverbial Little Black Dress, or LBD, and on her it looked stunning. Her brunette hair was lightly piled atop her head in elegant ringlets before falling away and gently ending at the tops of her bare shoulders. She had a wholesome beauty that reminded a person of the most gorgeous girl next door they had ever seen. If I had to dissect her looks, I would have to say that there was nothing too special about any part of her: legs, butt, arms, chest, face, hair, eyes, nose, mouth, but the effect was synergistic. I estimated she was five foot seven, five nine in the heels she was wearing, but that put her at least three if not four inches shorter than me.

Her LBD was held up by spaghetti straps, the fabric widening at her bust, and then hugging her every curve until it ended just above her knees. It was just barely conservative enough for a church social, although with a few modifications, I don’t think it would have been out of place at a nightclub. I had never seen anything like it on a real live woman my age.

“Hello, Timothy. I’m Amanda. You look very handsome tonight.”

I felt a smile lift my features. “Amanda, it’s very nice to meet you.” I pulled the flowers out from behind my back, “These are for you, but they can’t begin to compare to your beauty.” I found myself lost in hazel eyes which dared me to look away if I could. I honestly don’t think she understood the effect she had on me.

She took the flowers, bringing them to her nose in order to sniff their tantalizing fragrance.

“Amanda, Timothy, we need some pictures of you,” her mother reminded us.

My date turned, and I caught a glimpse of the back of her dress, or more to the point, the lack of the back of her dress. The fabric was held in place by crisscrossing thin lines, leaving the whole of her back open until just above her waist. I would be touching bare skin every time I placed my arms in frame as I guided her along the floor. That raised the specter for me of dealing with a young woman who was firmly and appropriately endowed for her age.

I sucked an involuntary breath, hoping that my reaction had gone unnoticed. Nope. I caught Mr. Black looking at me thoughtfully. He stared, seemed to consider something, and then finally nodded to himself. I needed to cut the tension.

“Really?” I whispered as I sidled closer to Amanda’s father, “This is what you do to me for a first date? At a church social? Really?”

He grinned in response.

I was guided over to Amanda where for the next few minutes we were pulled and pushed, arranged like mannequins and ordered to do the bidding of the smallish man. He looked to be setting up for another series of pictures when I glanced at Amanda. She had a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face. I grabbed her hand, and almost dragging her, headed for the door.

I think Mrs. Swift had anticipated my move, as she stood there with the entrance wide open. “Have fun, Sweetie,” she told her granddaughter as we made our escape.

I almost ran to the Tahoe, opening the passenger door and waiting for my date to arrive at it. She looked around for the promised car and driver in confusion before she found me, grinning slightly as she hurried over.

Grannie’s voice carried to us, “I told you he’d taken care of it!”

I closed the door for her, careful not to catch her LBD in the opening, then sprinted around to the driver’s side. We sat there in silence while I fumbled the key into the ignition switch. A moment later the SUV started and we were on our way.

We were halfway to the destination programmed into the nav system when I realized that outside of our introduction, we hadn’t said a word to each other. This wasn’t going to work unless we could both loosen up. There was a shopping center off to the right. I hit the turn signal and pulled in, parking far away from the evening activity.

“You’re not going to have a good time tonight.” I stated that to Amanda as an unassailable fact.

“What? What do you mean?” She was looking straight ahead.

“Amanda, look at me.”

She turned in her seat, finally.

“Neither of us are going to have a good time tonight unless we loosen up.” I explained. I held out my hand to her, “Hi, I’m Tim McKenzie, not Timmy or Timothy. Tim.”

She laughed, a rich throaty sound designed by generations of selective breeding to stop the hearts of men lesser than I. She grasped my hand, making my pulse race, “Amanda Black, Mandy to my friends.”

I spied a McDonald’s at the other end of the parking lot. “If you can trust me, I have an idea.”

At her nod, we started moving again and I pulled the Tahoe into the parking area for the restaurant. Getting out, I walked around to open the passenger door; Mandy accepted my hand to help her down. She stood there, uncertain what to do and I noticed she was shivering. My suit jacket was too warm for me, so I swept it from my shoulders and placed it around hers. She tucked her arms into the sleeves, rolling them up until her hands emerged. I had to laugh at the sight of her in the oversized-for-her garment, but she sure did look cute. Since I was no longer wearing the jacket, I pulled off the tie, throwing it into the back of the SUV before closing and locking the vehicle. My shirt came unbuttoned at the neck, allowing me to breathe freely for the first time since I had put it on earlier that evening.

“What now?” Mandy was standing in front of me, looking spectacular.

My hand found hers as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Inside of course, we’re on a McNuggets run.”

We ordered drinks and the twenty piece, along with every variety of dipping sauce they had for them. We had to wait a moment at the counter for everything to arrive. When it did, I grabbed the tray, and led us to a secluded corner booth. My phone came out of my pocket as I sat down. It was important that I let Dad know I hadn’t kidnapped Ms. Black and that we would still turn up at the social, only a little later than originally expected. I had confidence he would relay the message, ensuring it made it to the proper ears.

I took Mandy’s hands in mine and prayed for the food before we dug in, which I think surprised her a bit. It was my goal to get her more comfortable with me, so I’m glad that I could start with a surprise. The sauces were then opened, finding places for themselves on the tray between us.

“Okay, the idea here is for both of us to discover from each other what our favorite sauces are. We have until the nuggets are gone to figure it out, alternating turns. Oh, and one other thing, you can’t feed yourself, and you can’t talk about your preferences or mine.”

She agreed, allowing that she should get to go first since I set up the game. She picked up a nugget and dipped it generously in BBQ sauce. The whole thing was presented to my mouth; when I opened, she popped it in. I like BBQ, no problem there. My lack of distaste gave her the first valid piece of data.

I, on the other hand, was watching her eyes as I picked up her first offering. Her gaze was lingering on the Sweet & Sour, so I dipped the tip of the chicken into it, bringing it to her lips. She opened her mouth, expecting the whole thing, but I held only the first third in. She finally realized what I was doing and bit the portion off. She had a determined look on her face when she swallowed.

“No fair, you get more information that way.”

“Uh, uh, uh. No talking.” I dipped the chicken in another sauce and lined it up on her mouth. I was fairly certain of this one too since I had seen her eyeing the Honey-Mustard. Her third bite of that piece was BBQ flavored.

We kept that up until the very last nugget. I was certain I would win, as there wasn’t a sauce I didn’t like. I was also certain she would lose. Her eyes never looked at the Ranch, going so far as to shudder slightly when she dipped a chunk for me in it. We kept it light, playful, innocent, just as I had intended. Our play let us open up to each other in a nonverbal way that I hoped would carry us over into the entire evening.

I looked at the clock on my phone as I cleaned up our table, leaving Mandy alone with her thoughts until I returned from the garbage bin. My hand extended to her, inviting her to slide out of the booth and come with me. We remained silent until she was ensconced in the passenger seat with me at the steering wheel.

“If I win, you owe me one dance.” I wanted to keep it playful.

“And if I win?” She asked.

“Well, then I owe you one dance.”

“And if I want more?”

“Then we’ll have to see how good your negotiating skills are, Ms. Black.”

She turned in her bucket seat so she was facing me as well as she could. “Fine then, Mr. McKenzie. You liked all of the dipping sauces. I win.”

I smiled, “Not quite, I haven’t gone yet. There’s still the chance for a tie. Let’s see, Ms. Black.” I made sure to mimic her tone exactly, “You liked all of the dipping sauces...”

She started to crow victoriously.

“EXCEPT ... except for Ranch. For some reason you can’t stand Ranch.”

Her smile was larger than I expected when I had a chance to gaze over at her. “Well played, Mr. McKenzie, well played. So what happens now?”

“Well now, you’ll just have to owe me ALL of your dances.”

She settled firmly into her seat, “I can do that.”

It wasn’t until we were approaching her church that she thought back on our agreement, realizing that while she had promised me every dance of hers, I hadn’t done the same. “Hey, what about all your dances?”

I smirked, enjoying the teasing. “Mandy, I don’t think you are in good enough condition to claim all of MY dances. I was worried about you, Sweetie, that’s why I’m willing to let you off the hook.”

I’ll admit it, I was gambling. It could have gone one of two ways: she could have been furious with me and the night would have been over, or she could have recognized that this was all part of the elaborate maneuvering we were doing with each other tonight and gone along with it. Thankfully, Mandy was a smart girl and saw through me.

“You don’t get to let me off the hook until I cry Uncle. And that’s never going to happen.”

Wow, I was really starting to like this girl!

There was a problem when we got to her church, aside from finding parking. The social was set up to run from six to eleven pm, and while there was some leeway on when the youth group arrived, it wasn’t intended to cover an arrival that was almost an hour late. I helped Mandy down from the cab, linking her arm in mine as we walked toward the basement entrance. That was where they were holding it, in the church basement.

One of the parents was on duty outside. “Sorry, son, the social has already started. I can’t let you in.”