his picture and yet she recognized him instantly. Something in his present look was more like what she would have expected anyway. Within their casual online correspondence, she had detected an inherent gentleness, a kind of considerateness in his demeanor that had initially captured and ultimately held her interest. While these qualities had not been evident in his picture, she recognized them in his face, and her reluctance eased up the tiniest bit. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she murmured.
Dan stood up from the bench where he had been waiting and smiled warmly at Maryanne. Clearly he had embellished his height in his online profile, as well. She resented this; she could have at least worn lower heels to minimize the difference had she known. She tried to hide her annoyance. Yet he did not seem to mind so much; she noticed that his eyes were looking over her slender form with approval.
“Maryanne? You’re so much more beautiful than your picture!” he said earnestly. Then he blushed slightly, as if embarrassed by this outburst. She had the impression that his comments, at least, were spontaneous and genuine. “Don’t worry about being late,” he said good-naturedly. “I figured you were having a tough time finding parking. I did get us a table, though.”
He led her to their table and pulled out her chair for her. “Wow,” he remarked as he sat down across from her, “those are some guns you’re packing there!”
Maryanne drew back, startled, and Dan quickly gestured to her arms, once again embarrassed. “I mean, you must work out,” he clarified.
“Oh…yes!” she said with a laugh, feeling the tension leave her. “I practice yoga,” she explained.
“Yoga’s quite the workout,” he surprised her by saying. “I tried it myself a few times, but I found it difficult to hold many of the poses. I get distracted too easily. Let’s see, what was that one? You stand sort of crouched with your hands high up in front like the bug…the locust, was it?” He put his hands up in front of him in an exaggerated simulation of the pose.
“The praying mantis,” she corrected, laughing.
“Yeah,” he agreed amiably. “That’s it. Nearly snapped my hamstrings trying to do that one.”
Maryanne tried to imagine this stocky, seemingly unsophisticated guy attempting yoga and suddenly burst into loud laughter at the thought of it. But when she recovered, she changed her tune, eyeing him sideways and saying, “Actually, you look like you could handle it.” And it was true. Although he was a burly man, she could see at a glance that he was all muscle.
“Well, I might have exaggerated,” he conceded. “I actually only strained them a little.”
“That seems a bit more plausible…” she teased, surprised to find that she was flirting with him. The realization made her suddenly shy, and she tilted her head slightly downward in a reserved gesture she was in the habit of assuming to conceal her face. She could feel her cheeks growing warm and knew she was blushing. If Dan noticed her discomfort, he was considerate enough to pretend that he did not.
“I’m built mostly for hard work,” he continued with a matter-of-fact shrug. “Like an ox. That’s how I manage to keep in some kind of shape. But you look like you live at the gym.”
“Not really,” she said, tilting her head a little bit more. But she was pleased.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m gushing here. I’m really not obsessed with appearances. It’s just that you’re so toned and in amazing shape. I have to admit I find that attractive. Even your cheekbones. Wow!” He gestured around her face without touching her. “It’s like they’re chiseled out of marble or something.” It was an earnest compliment, and it wasn’t the first time Maryanne had heard it. But whenever anyone mentioned her amazing bone structure, all she could think of was the way the boys in grade school used to tease her, calling her “alien” because of the way her large eyes and high cheekbones dominated her face. If only she could get those children’s cruel voices out of her head.
Dan casually reached over and brushed aside the loose hair that had fallen down over her face. From anyone else, this would have been too forward a gesture for Maryanne, but Dan did it with such simple aplomb that she hardly noticed that he had done anything at all.
“So what are you hungry for?” he asked, turning his attention to his menu.
“I don’t know,” she said disinterestedly. She picked up her menu, trying to think of something clever to say.
“I chose this restaurant because their food is exceptional. You mentioned in your profile that you were a finicky eater.”
“I did?” she asked.
“I think you did,” he replied, considering. “I’m not sure exactly what you said. Something gave me that impression.”
Maryanne wondered what it was. He certainly was intuitive. She realized that she felt considerably more relaxed with him than she usually was on first dates—particularly blind dates—but even so, she had the urge to rock gently back and forth in her chair, another nervous habit she had picked up. Most people didn’t mind it once they got to know her, but she knew it would be disconcerting for a man to see her do it on a first date. Yet with Dan, she wondered. He seemed to be the sort of man who would make a person feel comfortable no matter how odd his or her behavior.
“Well, anyway,” he continued, “the food here is first-rate. The chef grows a lot of the vegetables in his own organic garden nearby. You can really taste the freshness. I figured you were probably into health food.”
“Well, sort of,” she said noncommittally.
Maryanne ordered a salad and Dan ordered a steak. But she showed no interest in her food when it arrived. Having consumed her second drink by then, she was finally loosening up.
“So have you ever been married?” Dan asked. Maryanne had been wondering when the conversation would come around to that. People were so obsessed with past relationships. She disliked talking about them. Besides, whoever told the truth when it came to that? Had a man on a date ever said, for example, “Yeah, I just couldn’t seem to stop sleeping with other women”? Or would a woman ever admit, “Everything he did just made me want to bite his head off ”?
“No,” she said without elaborating.
“Did you never want to?” he persisted.
Maryanne felt she was treading in dangerous territory. Yet the drinks had loosened her up considerably so it didn’t seem to matter so much.
“Yes,” she replied honestly. “I’ll admit I have thought about it a time or two. But…”
Dan waited a long moment before responding. When he did, Maryanne was surprised that he was still waiting for her to finish her thought. “But…what?” he prompted. She looked at him, impressed. Most of the men she encountered had the attention span of a fly.
“It’s hard to explain,” she began. “I’ve never really put my thoughts about marriage into words before.” She thought about it for another minute. He was looking at her with keen interest, as if he really wanted to hear what she thought about it. His seeming interest encouraged her. “I believe marriage is impossible,” she said. Then she shook her head vigorously, causing her hair to shift back and forth over her face. “No, not impossible. That’s ridiculous. People get married every day. What I mean is, it’s hopeless…and destructive and doomed to fail.”
