Thou Shalt Not(87)

“I think the potato was more of a revelation than the steak, which is obviously delicious.”

“Listen to you, ‘more of a revelation’,” she said, laughing. “I swear you’re an eighty-four-year-old dork.”

I grinned at her. She was right.

As Martin removed our plates, we had to have the serious discussion about dessert.

“God,” she said, “I don’t know if I can come here and not get dessert. But, I’m so full I don’t think I would enjoy it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Then I added, “What if we come back sometime this week, maybe Friday? Just for dessert.”

“If you’re going to ask me out on a date, you have to actually ask me.”

“Well, wasn’t this a date? Sort of?”

“No sir,” she said. “You told me this was a celebration dinner. Big difference.”

She smiled, and my heart melted like the butter on the sweet potato.

“You are right,” I said. “Fine. April, would you go out with me on Friday night? I know a great place we can go.”

“I’d love to,” she said.

I wanted to run around the restaurant and high five everyone. I might have even chest-bumped Martin.

I was worried that she would back off once we had sex. Get weird, or regret her decision. Agreeing to another date was a good sign.

God. I was dating a married woman.

I paid the bill, left Martin a tip I wouldn’t have envisioned giving him in the first few minutes, and we began the drive home.

We crossed the bridge, and it dawned on me that I had gone the entire dinner without once worrying what would happen if someone from the school saw us. I hadn’t been paranoid about getting caught. Maybe I was evolving. Maybe I was becoming reckless.

“Thank you for dinner, Luke,” she said, taking hold of my hand as I drove.

“It was my pleasure, April.”

“When I told Marco I had gotten the job, he flipped out. Wasn’t happy for me for a second. It’s weird to be around a man who wants to celebrate something like this.”

“You make me want to celebrate the ability to breathe.”

After I said it, I nearly facepalmed myself. Then, I nearly facepalmed myself for thinking the word “facepalm” in my head. But, the students always used it when they did something stupid. What can I say? They have rubbed off on me.

“You’re a good man,” she said.

I was waiting for a “but,” but it never came. We drove in silence for a little bit, until we neared the main road that led toward the beach, and toward both our homes.

“I need to stop by my house and get a few things,” she said. “I might even get my car, so that you won’t have to drop me off in the morning.”

“Okay,” was all I could say. But my mind was racing. She had no intention of going home, obviously. She wanted to spend the night again. And hadn’t even bothered asking. She was perfect. I didn’t even have to work at this.

I wasn’t ready to take her home yet, though.





There was a specific neighborhood about three minutes from mine that I had frequented as a kid. When you turned into the neighborhood, a massive oak tree in the middle greeted you, creating a natural median in the road. The road winded back through many more oak trees, none quite as big as the first one. But, it was a beautiful neighborhood. The houses were visually impressive, although not quite mansion caliber like you would see in April’s neighborhood.

“Where are we going?” she asked. She was looking up at the trees as we drove. Her question seemed more like an afterthought.

“You’ll see.”

“You really like your surprises.”

The sky was clear and the moon was full. Moonlight shone through the tree canopy, piercing the road with occasional light.

After you passed the first six houses, you turned left. If you were walking the neighborhood and were unfamiliar with it, it would have been easy to lose your bearings. And you most certainly wouldn’t know how close you were to the water. But after the turn, and down the road a little ways further, there was a break in the trees and houses and you would find a large fishing dock that stretched out over the Intercoastal.

Friends and I used to come fish here late at night, after the residents had gone to bed. Technically, the dock was private property. But, we were young and carefree.

The dock that I had fished on was wiped out during Hurricane Charlie a few years before, and a brand new one was in its place a year later. I hadn’t been on the new dock yet.

We were still dressed in our Bern’s attire as I parked along the street, and we walked through the grass to the dock.

“Full moon,” I said as we walked. “All the crazies come out tonight.”