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"Kevin, I'm tired…"

"Come on, Arnold, just two more blocks! I promise, when you see where I'm taking you, all the walking will be worth it."

"OK, fine. But it better be pretty cool, or I'm going to be really mad at you!"

"Trust me, Arnold, it's the coolest thing ever."

Arnold trudges behind me, dragging his feet with every step. He looks like a five year old.

After a while, we finally arrive at the place. "Look!" I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster, pointing to the store we're standing in front of. "Here we are!"

Arnold looks into the store, and his eyes pop, because the store is a Star Trek gift shop.

"Oh. My. GOSH!" He begins to bounce up and down with excitement. "This is so awesome! I'm going in!" He flings open the glass door, smacks himself in the head, and wanders inside, dazed.

I look to make sure he's completely immersed in the store, and then I run across the street to the restaurant that he clearly didn't notice: The Cranberry.

When I enter, I see her sitting at the two-person table next to the maître-'d stand. She waves, and I indicate to the woman at the stand that Mary is my party. The maître-'d nods, and I sit down at the table.

"God, I thought you'd never get here!" she says, laughing. I wince when she takes the Lord's name in vain, but I don't think she notices.

"Sorry, Arnold wouldn't walk fast. Did you order yet?"

"No. I just ordered us some water, though. It's coming."

"Great! Thanks."

There is a moment of silence, until she asks me, "So…why are you here? I mean, is it required that every Mormon guy's gotta visit a different city every year or something?"

"Well, at least once in your life, your church…or, as we believe, Heavenly Father…sends you on a mission to preach Mormonism. It could be anywhere in the world. These two Elders I knew at the church are preaching in France right now."

"Wow! That's amazing!" Her eyes light up, and they reflect excitement. "I've always wanted to go to France! Paris, especially. The Eiffel Tower is just gorgeous! I've seen pictures, and I want to go there so badly! Can you imagine the absolute thrill of standing up on top of that huge structure! If…"

She talks on and on, and after a while, I begin to realize that her love for France is sort of like my love for Orlando. I start really listening to what she's saying, and even I get engaged as she tells me of all the sights in Paris. She's really got a thing with words. After about three straight minutes of back-and-forth conversation, we notice that the waiter has been standing next to us with our water, waiting for us to finish talking. When he finally gets to set down the glasses and walks away with a huff, we both crack up laughing. After the laughing fit is over, there is another bit of silence.

"What's the deal with the red-headed guy you were with when I saw you in Central Park?" she inquires, raising one eyebrow. "He seems like he's more on the corset-too-tight side of society."

I laugh. "Well, er, after you walked away, he asked if I was seeing you."

"And?"

The red-hot flush returns to my cheeks. "I…I said yes."

I look up to see her smiling at me. "Well?" I ask her, sounding a bit too desperate. "Are we…"

"Are we what?" She knows the answer, I can tell by her smile, but she just wants to hear me say it.

I feel like a tomato when I reply, "Are we…you know…dating?"

She laughs lightly. "Of course we are!" I breathe an internal sigh of relief. Jeez, after only a week of knowing her, I already want this to be a relationship. Well, I guess I got my wish.

Her stare catches me after a bit, and she asks, "So? What's the catch?"

Before replying, I take a deep breath and look her earnestly in the eye. "He says that I'm not to contact you for the rest of my two-year mission."

She gives me an incredulous look. "What? Seriously?"

I nod.
"How…what…can he even do that?" The look on her face is angry.

I nod again. "It's a Mission Rule."

"Which one?" Her voice is sharp and demanding.

I rack my brain. "46, I think."

She rolls her eyes and laughs harshly. "I bet he's just jealous."

"Yeah, right. I bet he's got a lot more to worry about than getting a girlfriend."

Mary shrugs, then reaches for her water, which has remained untouched for the entire conversation. "Still, this sucks."

"I know."

She takes a long swig of water, eyeing me. When she puts it down, she cracks a small smile. "This doesn't mean we shouldn't keep dating."

I try to decode what she's trying to say. "You mean…we should break the rules?"

"Do you seriously think Rule 47…"

"46."

"Fine, whatever…Rule 46…can stand in the way of this?" she says determinedly, indicating our relationship with her hands, perfectly manicured and polished with a bit of white at the end of each nail. Heck, everything about her is perfection.

"No," I reply, agreeing with her. "we can definitely keep this up."

She grins, squeezing my hand from under the table. "Definitely."

There is more silence, and I absentmindedly gaze out the window across the street. And then I realize something. "Arnold! I totally forgot about him! He's probably looking for me…" I say in a panic.

Mary chortles. "Oh, come on, don't worry about him. From what you described to me, he's probably still looking through the first half of the store." She's got a point. I relax slightly and look back at her. Her green eyes are flashing with glints of light from the headlights of cars outside on the street.

"And besides," she says, with the smile back on her face, "we still haven't ordered any food."

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