CHAPTER THREE: Connections and Conversation
"I love guns too, actually." she says as they walk inside the restaurant. "Did Juliet mention that?"
"Yeah, she did."
Carlton thinks about how odd it is to be on a date and having a two-way conversation about weaponry. He doubts anyone else in the restaurant gets this privilege...
After their reservations are confirmed, a waiter leads them to their table.
"O'Hara told me you're a really good shot." says Carlton. "She said you could have been a cop."
Elizabeth looks over at him, catching his gaze as they take their seats. It's only then that he realizes that he forgot to pull her chair out for her. Luckily, she doesn't seem to notice.
"Maybe I could have been." Elizabeth replies after some thoughtful consideration. "I don't really know. Juliet exaggerates, sometimes. But I do know my way around the shooting range. And I did consider it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Pretty seriously, in fact."
"Why didn't you?" he asks, interest piqued.
"Because, even though I love helping people...and guns, for that matter...I'm not as tough as you and Juliet. I just don't think I could handle seeing what you see every day."
A short silence follows as the waiter passes out menus. They both take them, but Lassiter only glances at his momentarily before looking back up at his date.
She looks at the menu for only a few moments as well, then looks up at him with a smile. "Ready to order, already?"
"Yes."
"Me too."
Carlton addresses the waiter. They both order steaks, medium-rare (Lassiter makes a mental note of yet another thing he likes about her), and a bottle of wine.
After the waiter leaves, Elizabeth leans in slightly. "Hey..."
He blinks. "Hey."
"I'm about to break one of the fundamental rules of first dates. And I'm going to do exactly what Juliet told me not to do."
Lassiter raises an eyebrow. "Then you're playing a dangerous game." he says, thinking of what O'Hara would do to him if she found out that he had broken any of her rules.
"I know." she admits, but she looks determined anyway. "It's just, I don't believe in all the crap about not mentioning past relationships. I think everyone really wants to know what they're getting into, and I want to be upfront."
"Exactly what I say!" remarks Carlton, suddenly feeling validated. "What's the point in putting off reality by a date or two?"
"That's how I feel. And it's just, I'm not sure how much Juliet actually told you about me, but...I'm divorced."
Carlton looks at her curiously. O'Hara did not mention this detail, and he's not exactly sure how he feels about it – but he's certainly in no position to judge. "So am I."
"I know. She told me. That's why I thought it was okay to mention, since I figured maybe you wouldn't go running for the door as soon as you found out."
Carlton shrugs. "I'm not running."
She just smiles.
"Can I ask how long?" he ventures, slightly wearily, because now he's been drawn into breaking O'Hara's rules and he doesn't know if Elizabeth is going to retreat at the more in-depth question.
"How long was I married, or how long have I been divorced?"
"Both."
"I was married for four years, and it ended about two years ago. Your turn."
He lets out a low sigh before speaking. "Legally, I was married for ten years. But it was over a long time before that. We were separated for about four years of the ten."
"What took so long?"
"I kept trying to fix it. Kept holding out hope. Turns out she didn't want to fix it – she just wanted out."
"Hmmm...that was me, but I had a good reason. He cheated."
"I'm sorry."
She just shrugs, smiles again, a little sadly this time. "It's okay. I've moved on."
And now, Carlton maybe understands why O'Hara said not to go into past relationships. It isn't that he doesn't want to know about all of this – he still firmly believes in the being upfront policy, after all – but he gets the feeling that maybe they should be doing something other than rehashing old romantic failures.
Elizabeth seems to feel the same way all of a sudden. She blushes slightly. "But...uh...maybe we can get into that later. I'm starting to think that Juliet had some idea of what she was talking about...now I'm not sure how to get back on track."
He's impressed with the way her thoughts coincide so perfectly with his, but he's also horrified that she doesn't seem to know what to say now.
Crap.
And now the silence starts.
Crap.
He usually enjoys silence, but not the awkward-on-a-date-silence that makes him feel as if he's doing something wrong.
She doesn't say anything, and he doesn't say anything, and...
The food arrives, much to Carlton's relief. They busy themselves with forks and knives and chewing.
It doesn't take away all the awkwardness, though, and he grasps for his fall-back question. It isn't as if he hasn't been wondering, anyway. "Did you meet O'Ha-Juliet at the gun range?"
"Oh, no. We met at the library. She noticed that I was returning a book she had read, and we started discussing it. After that, we became friends pretty easily."
"Just don't let her throw you a surprise party..." he says, smirking slightly.
Elizabeth quirks her eyebrows with the unasked question, and he starts the story on how his partner once invited all of his enemies over to his house in order to celebrate his birthday. It wasn't funny then, but Elizabeth laughs at the conclusion and it's contagious now. He chuckles slightly at the (once horrifying) memory.
"Hmm...I can't top that, although my mom did once invite the boyfriend I had dumped just two days previous to one of my parties. And he came. I just didn't get it..."
"Awkward?"
"Very." she smiles.
He smiles back.
And after that, somehow, the conversation flows more easily. She asks him if he grew up in Santa Barbara. He says yes, briefly describes growing up in this city, and somehow he even works in stories about Hank and Old Sonora. Then he asks her about where she grew up. It turns out she's from a small town in northern Arizona. The city itself sounds nice and quiet, although her home life wasn't exactly so – she has three siblings: an older brother, an older sister and a younger brother. She gets along with all of them, now, but she tells Carlton stories of her childhood when there was a lot of yelling and fighting and sibling rivalry.
Subjects begin to segue casually into others without either of them noticing.
He learns her favorite book genres (a wide range: classics like Austen, crime like Grisham, with the occasional dose of fantasy just to switch it up).
She learns his favorite sports (gun sports, of course, followed by baseball).
Her favorite season (he can't remember how that one came up, but it's autumn).
His favorite hobby (after shooting? Fishing).
Her favorite color (blue).
His favorite food (steak).
They smile about that one for awhile, and then they both take purposefully large bites from their respective plates.
The concept of time falls away as their conversation continues. They talk while eating, then continue even when their plates are clear. They keep talking as he pays the bill, and even in the car. They talk about anything. Everything. He never knew he had so much to say. Or that he'd want to say so much to anyone.
He had forgotten what a real good date actually felt like, until tonight. There's a happiness bubbling up inside of him, along with a strange feeling he almost doesn't recognize: excitement for something (someone) new.
As he drives her home, his fingers are loose on the wheel, and he realizes that he's relaxed. Comfortable, just talking with her. He finds himself driving a little slower than his usual speed, but who's counting?
When they arrive back at her house, he walks her to her door, feeling nerves flare up inside of him. He's never been good at this part.
But Elizabeth smiles like that doesn't matter.
"I had a great time tonight, Carlton."
She emphasizes the 'great', and she doesn't even seem to be lying. No obvious signs of it, anyway (no sweat on her forehead and no twitching fingers). This gives him enough courage to lean in for a tentative first kiss, which she accepts and returns.
It isn't short. It isn't long.
It's medium-length and sweet; innocent with the promise of more – sometime in the future.
He feels as if he's just caught a high-profile criminal.
He finds it hard to say goodbye that night, but eventually the moment comes when they both realize they can't just stand on her porch for hours on end.
"Goodnight, Elizabeth."
"Goodnight, Carlton."
He walks back to his car, but glances up at her before opening his door. She smiles again and waves.
He gives her a small wave back, and he feels as if his own happiness is throwing him off-balance. He gets into his car, trying not to grin like an idiot.
After awhile, though, he decides it's a hopeless cause, and he's still smiling by the time his head hits the pillow that night.