Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree of Freedom .
I had the perfect date tonight. A double-date of sorts.
I’d planned it for weeks. Take my dates to my favorite restaurant, Bonefish Grill in Destin, for this special occasion. We’d dress up, wear pantyhose and heels even. The girls insisted I wear what they call “the Ultimate Date Blouse,” which is scandalously low cut, but well, okay. No one else has been worth it yet.
We didn’t leave my house on time. One of my dates was late, thanks to some relatives’ shopping plans. By the time we arrived at Bonefish, we’d missed our table—and had to wait an hour. But that was okay, because we milled around Ross’ discount store and while my dates checked out the jackets, I found my favorite kinds of clothes. Crushed velvet skirts and beaded blouses and satin and silk and jewel colors and Goth and Medieval. I barely got through the checkout before we were summoned to dinner.
We got a quiet table and a great waiter who was young, enthusiastic, and cute.
We ordered what I always love to order—a selection of appetizers. I decide to forgo the Trinchero because I was driving, but the food was delicious, the company grand, and the atmosphere superb.
The younger of my two dates opened presents before our favorite Bang Bang Shrimp arrived, and I got lots of hugs.
The date ended perfectly, back at my house, and I even got a couple of pecks on the cheek—a sure sign that the date went well. And then my dates were tucked into bed and I went back to my work on the computer.
Yes, a very good night, with my two daughters, and thoughts of 13 years ago, when I first held my younger one.
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