Chapter Seven; I Think I'm Fallin' for You

Nick lets me pick the restaurant, so I pick my favorite. And promptly order my favorite meal.

Steak.

Medium bloody.

Which for some odd reason, always impresses the guys I date. I have no idea why. Must be the Neanderthal in them, watching me knaw on a raw cow corpse must instinctually incite prehistoric desire. At least that’s my best guess.

We sit by the window while we wait for our dinner to arrive.

Nick gazes at me and tells me I look incredible.

Sigh.

I feel like whipping out my blackberry and asking him if I can record that.

But I resist.

Over dinner, the previous flow of our texts, emails, and phone conversations meander together forming a stream of discussion diverse in dimension. We joke around but eventually end up discussing things like injustice in the world and the power of a positive attitude. I tell him about some of my favorite “life” books by Dale Carnegie and Eckhart Tolle. He hasn’t read them but I outline the concepts and he is quick to illustrate circumstances where he’s had to adapt similar lines of thinking.

He does argue with me on one point that I make: that all people are innately good.

“Oh come on,” I challenge, “haven’t you read Anne Frank? She’s hiding with her family in an attic for four years, her entire adolescence stolen by war, all the while writing in her diary how she still believes there is good in all people. Are you hiding in an attic anxious your family could be discovered and murdered at any second?” I go on and respond to my own rhetorical question, “Exactly. If she can make that assertion about humanity under those circumstances, then we can too. That’s the whole point.”

Nick tells me he wishes he had my optimism, but that he’s seen a lot.

He thinks there are truly evil people in the world.

I argue that no one is truly evil; that people are the cumulative result of their experiences. It is what we choose to do with those experiences that allows either good or evil to flow through us.

He still disagrees.

I don’t want to know at this point what he’s seen that makes him so unwavering.

So I change the topic.

Other than that difference in philosophies, by the time our meal is over, I am completely in awe of Nick’s depth of character, his ability to express himself so articulately and the multi-faceted life experiences that he shares so candidly.

He’s tough yet vulnerable. A combination that captivates me.

As our conversation winds down, his blackberry, which never leaves his side, perks up and Nick tells me his fellow fire fighters are beckoning to us from down the street at the bar.

Nick pays, I thank him as I simultaneously promise to get the next one. As we start down the street I persuade him to take a brief detour and stop for one drink at one of my favorite places, a rooftop bar. He’s heard of it but never been up there, says it’s a little outside of his “crowd,” so I am excited to be the one to show it to him.

On the roof, we visit in the July air and I introduce him to a girlfriend of mine who happens to be there as well. Nick is so engaging and polite, I can see in her eyes she is thinking, “Where did you FIND this guy? He’s a catch!” (And apparently I need to maybe consider a career in mental telepathy because the email she sends me the next day basically said, “Where did you find this guy? He is a catch!”)

Just as she wanders back to her table, Naomi texts me:

How is the date? Are you running off into the sunset with Romeo? I am out with Linda, she and I are dying to know.

I love it when my life is so intriguing that Naomi can’t wait until the next day for the full account, she has to actually radio me in the field asking for a status report.

“It’s just my friend, Naomi. She is out tonight too,” I half confess the contents of the text to Nick.

“Tell her to meet us,” Nick offers.

“Really? Are you sure?” I ask.

“Of course!” Nick confirms with a grin.

And for some reason, at that moment, his sincere smile suspends me in time for a brief few seconds. The sun is setting on us and he is sitting in that golden glow. And I am struck by the simple fact that I am having a wonderful time with probably one of the nicest and most genuine guys I have ever met.

And I realize.

That at this moment.

I am so happy.

As I recover from this awareness I relay Nick’s invitation to Naomi.

She replies:

Hell yeah I want to meet him!! B there in 10!

I just smile at Nick and say, “She’d love to come.”

An hour later I am at Nick’s side and meeting the rest of the hero brigade. I am just amazed. I just met him a week ago, and yet he is immersing me into his world. It just seems surreal.

“This is Audra, I’d like you to meet Audra, come over, I want to introduce you to Audra.” Over and over. I am shaking hands and learning names and hearing funny stories. All the while Nick is standing protectively next to me, grinning away.

We finally break away from the crowd to order a few drinks and when we do he leans against the bar, plays with the vintage bracelet on my hand and whispers, “I like your style.”

And well. I just kind of do the melting thing.

Knowing full well.

That Naomi is going to kill me.

But I say forget her. I am falling and I don’t want to get up. I want to continue to tumble heels over head into this land of crushing endorphins and momentary madness. Pass me that cup of this crazy/I’m so into you/kool aid Nick is serving. I want to slurp it down with a straw, lick the edges, and inhale every last drop.

Because it is.

Delicious.

Oh, but wait a minute. Satan the cynical naysayer is here.

Naomi is in the building.

After lots of giddy “So nice to meet you!’s”, we finally deposit ourselves in a booth while Nick leaves to get another round. And, oh, you guessed it. Naomi jumps all over this first opportunity to milk me for info like a cow just in from the pasture.

“Okay,” she leans in a hushed whisper, “First of all. Holy crap! Great arms. My good GAWD you weren’t exaggerating. Has he done a calendar? I think he’s done a calendar. He should DEFINITELY do a calendar. But, seriously, I have to know: Have you even kissed him yet?”

“No,” I admit, wrinkling up my forehead and leaning across the table. Where is she going with this?

“What the hell!” she squeals, “And you’re here. Meeting all his co-workers and friends? And I am here? Meeting all of his co-workers and friends?”

“I know, isn’t it insane?”

“Hey, you said it, not me. You know,” she pauses and brings her voice down to her “Now hear me out,” level, which is at least two octaves lower than her prior whispered shrieks, and announces protectively. “Are we in a f*ckin’ movie? When does he turn into an asshole?”

“Oh come on, do not go there. It’s fine. Not everyone is a jerk you realize.”

Naomi’s jaw drops. Let’s just say she is not so used to hearing me defend the (emotionally) weaker sex.

Nick is returning. Naomi’s jaw is now fake smiling.

Before too long, it’s time to call it a night. After all, it is a Thursday, and I have a firm Cinderella rule about staying out past midnight on a work night.

Naomi heads out too, but not before hugging me extra hard. (I check my purse later to make sure she didn’t slip me a can of mace, chastity belt, or a taser gun. Nope. We’re clear.)

On the way back to Nick’s truck he sweetly takes my hand in his for the first time. And we walk down the sidewalk like a couple of twitterpated teenagers.

(I freaking love this!)

As he drives me home, I explain how I am playing “Hotel Audra” at the moment as my Grandpa is staying with me for the week while my Grandma recovers from minor surgery. I relay how good old gramps had asked me if he needed to get a hotel room for the night since I had a date.

“Grandpa!” I’d chastised, “Why would you ask that? This is my and Nick’s first official date!”

“Well, I dunno how things work in the land of divorce and dating, just thought I’d offer,” he’d sweetly justified.

Nick thought that was pretty funny. I tell him I just wonder if Grandma knows how much Sex in the City Grandpa has been watching.

Nick pulls his pickup into my driveway and stops. Obviously, I can’t take him in my house to say goodnight, with Grandpa snoozing on the sofa.

So there we sit.

Parking.

Which mentally propels me back to high school. I fully expect an 80’s band to start crooning a ballad from the dashboard at any moment.

But no music swells. Instead, Nick is talking a lot and I am just sitting there listening and trying not to worry too much about if he is going to kiss me now or what.

(I hope so!)

Nick opens the sun roof. Crickets serenade us as the summer night filters in. And he talks some more. And I listen. And forget all about kissing.

Because soon we are continuing our earlier conversation about injustice in the world and engaged in a 45 minute discussion. He tells me of a significant experience he had where he felt extremely wronged and how he handled it. I am enthralled by the story, with his resolve, his character, and his motivation to stand up for what is right.

But I also challenge it. I tell him, sometimes, isn’t just better to let things go? At what cost is justice achieved? At what point do we just surrender? After all, isn’t that where war comes from? Humanity’s inability to just let the small things . . . go?

He says he wishes he could do that.

I smile and acknowledge, “Well, I have to work on that a little bit myself, too.”

And then, we both go silent.

He leans back in his seat, smiles, and just looks at me.

“You’re amazing,” he says.

“Right back, atchya,” I say.

He leans toward me, the moonlight the only illumination on our faces.

And then.

“I’ve wanted to do this all week,” he whispers, his hands on my face.

And when he kisses me, the lyrics to every love song ever sung, I swear I can hear, echoing in the star scattered summer sky.

Above us.
*****************************

Dear Dating Land Readers,
Tune in tonight, September 17th, at 8:30PM on KFGO as I will be a guest of my host, Jason Spiess. Listen online (I posted a link for you in the sidebar) or turn your dial to 790AM to hear Dating Land live.

Thanks for reading and listening! Here's to love <3.

Muah!
~Audra
P.S See you back here on Monday . . . with a surprise worth waiting for!