I stared at the shop, all its cool furniture and even cooler accessories then I looked up at Mitch.
“That’s a great shop,” I whispered.
“You know she furnished my apartment,” Mitch stated, I nodded and he went on. “You’re pathologically shy and Penny’s a pathological decorator. She’s redecorated each of her kids’ rooms about five times. She has three and the oldest one is seven. And that’s just her kids’ rooms. She’s redecorated other rooms in her house so many times, I’ve lost count. Her husband, Evan, has declared citizen’s divorce twice. I was there both times. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Yikes,” I muttered, looking into the windows at the expensive but gorgeous wares on display and thinking if her kids’ rooms had that stuff in them, five times over, the unknown Evan must be a bazillionaire or he should be nominated for sainthood.
“He’s an excavator,” Mitch continued, giving me the information Evan was far from a bazillionaire and therefore sainthood was forthcoming. “They have a sofa in their house that cost nearly ten thousand dollars.” I gasped and my eyes shot to his. “She’s a nut. She’s a pain in the ass. She’s got champagne tastes and Evan’s never gonna be able to afford anything other than a beer budget. So he talked her into opening this shop so she could get champagne wholesale.”
“Smart move,” I noted.
“Yeah, now she can talk other people into spending their money. But it’s still her drug, sweetheart, and he’s made it so she can get her fix every day.”
I studied him because I was realizing this wasn’t just his latest conversational gambit to take my mind off freaking out but that he was trying to tell me something.
Mitch kept talking. “Penny’s the type of woman you don’t ignore because Penny’s the type of woman who doesn’t like to be ignored and won’t allow it. But, during the NCAA basketball playoffs, Evan disappears. You do not disturb Evan during any basketball game but to the outside world he ceases to exist during the playoffs.”
I waited for it. Mitch gave it to me.
“She gets this about him and ties herself in knots making sure nothing stops Evan getting his drug of choice. Not kids. Not phone calls. Not the need to get up and get another beer. Nothing.”
“So they enable each other,” I remarked, Mitch smiled and turned me so we were front to front and both his arms were around me.
“No,” he said softly. “They love each other. They know what the other likes, they know what the other needs to feed whatever is hungry in their soul and they give it to them. At least Penny does but Evan does too with only a minimal amount of bitching.”
I put my hands on his chest and asked, “What’s your drug of choice?”
“I’ve no idea,” he answered. “It’s not up to me to figure it out. But whoever I decide to share my life with needs to be a woman who ties herself in knots to give it to me.”
Oh boy. There it was.
“Mitch –”
“But only because I know I’m a man who’ll figure hers out and give it to her in return.”
And he was. I knew this to be true right down deep to the very heart of me.
“This is very heavy for a first date,” I decided to point out considering Mitch had switched from doing anything to make me not freak out, to saying a bunch of stuff that could do nothing but freak me out.
“I’ve shared more breakfasts with you than any woman I’ve dated in the last year and a half,” Mitch returned. “I know what you look like in the morning. I know what you act like when you come home tired after work. I know that you pick the least expensive thing on the menu either to be nice or to be annoying in order to put me off. But I think it’s to be nice because you are nice and also both times you thought you’d be spending time with just me, you dressed in a way that would not, in any way, put me off. I know you cuddle when you’re sleeping. I know you take only milk in your coffee and you make coffee strong. I know you’re really good with kids. And I know that you use music and scents to regulate your mood. So I’m thinking this is not a first date. This is more like us hittin’ the six month mark. And the six month mark is when you stop talkin’ about shit that really doesn’t matter and start talkin’ about shit that means everything.”
Okay. I’d hit it. I was freaking out. And I decided Mitch needed to know that.
Therefore, I told him, “You’re freaking me out.”
Then he freaked me out more by saying, “Good. My first strategy is working.”