A/N: Well, I had the option of one mahoosive chapter, or two shorter ones. Sorry, this is the shorter chapter option. But I promise that its continuation will come soon.
I would be remiss in not thanking, once again, all of you fabulous reviewers. The guest reviewers in particular deserve a shout-out, because I can't reply to you individually at all via this website (even if you put your name in the name slot). Two of your reviews moved me to tears, and one of them had me smiling all day. I can't thank you enough for all the love.
And, without further ado, I believe I promised you all a date. :)
xx
CSotA
Friday, October 3
Fridays always found Elsie elbow-deep in paperwork - which meant, of course, that the phone rang incessantly.
"Good morning, school nurse's office," she answered, tucking the receiver under her chin so that she could continue sifting through her papers while she took the call.
"Elsie? It's Charles Carson."
Elsie silently congratulated herself for not dropping the phone completely. "Charles," she said, surprised, her smile evident to him in the sound of her voice. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm calling about tonight. Erm … well, it appears that Daisy is spending the night at Edith's. Edith just called to work out the details."
"I see," Elsie said, completely deflated. "And you could use a quiet night to yourself?"
"No!" he answered, almost too quickly. "That is, no, that's not quite what I meant."
"Oh?"
"No. But I knew your plan was to bring pizza or something to the house, and I wondered ..." Bite the bullet, Charlie … "I wondered if you'd like to go out instead? With me? Only, I don't know much about the area, so you'd have to pick the spot."
Elsie's mind whirred as she tried to digest all of the opportunities this conversation threw in her lap. "I see. Well, then … I think that's a splendid idea - on one condition."
"Yes?" His heart was pounding as he realized that he was (hopefully) thirty seconds from setting up an actual date with Elsie Hughes.
"You allow me to take you out." She interrupted his protests, silencing him after only a few syllables. "I insist, Charles. You've been so kind to me since you arrived. You rescued me when my truck died, brought dinner to my home, and picked up the check at breakfast not once, but twice now. I won't take no for an answer. I'm Scottish, remember - very stubborn."
He sighed, his unease with allowing her to pay for dinner at war with his desire to see her, to spend time with her on a proper date.
"Alright, then," he gave in. "I can see that you've left me no choice. Did you have somewhere in mind?"
"Actually, yes," she said, silently celebrating that he really did have a choice but had ignored the idea of not going out with her at all. "But give me a couple of hours to see if I can arrange it. I've got to get this paperwork finished and then it's lunchtime meds, and I'll call afterward to see about reservations."
"Reservations? Is it posh? That's not necessary, Elsie."
"Oh, hush," she admonished. "It's my favorite place and, yes, it's a bit on the upscale side, but you'll love it. Trust me," she added at the last minute.
"I do," he said, with just a little wonder in his voice.
"I'll ring you back around two."
"I'll be waiting," he said. Elsie could hear the smile in his voice.
When his phone buzzed just after two, Charles had to force himself to allow three rings to sound before answering it. It wouldn't do to have Elsie aware that he'd been holding the phone in his breast pocket ever since he'd hung up with her earlier, terrified that he'd miss her call.
"Hello?"
"Charles, it's Elsie. We're all set - reservations at seven. Dress is smart, but not terribly so. You'll probably be comfortable in anything from a casual jacket and tie to a more formal business suit."
"Alright, then. Shall I pick you up or would you like to give me directions so that I can meet you?"
She noticed that her picking him up wasn't an option that he'd offered, and thought there was something rather chivalrous in that; it made her feel like a lady instead of just a farmer or a nurse, and she definitely appreciated that.
"Well, it's actually not local - about forty-five minutes away, maybe, depending on traffic. Why don't you pick me up, and then I can either drive from my house or direct you?"
"Perfect. I'll see you around six, then?"
"See you then," she said, hanging up the phone and smiling.
"Well, well," came the soft voice from the doorway. "Do you have a date, Ms. Hughes?"
"Phyllis! Oh, my goodness, you scared the life out of me. Um … perhaps," she said, nodding toward the door to indicate that it really needed to be closed.
Phyllis complied and then practically jumped into the chair next to her friend's desk. "Elsie, I've never known you to go out on a date. Dare I ask with whom you're heading out on this fine Friday?"
"You can ask," she began, "but I'm not sure you'll like the answer."
Phyllis just waited, and finally Elsie sighed.
"It's Charles Carson," she whispered, "and if you tell anyone, so help me, Phyllis …"
"Oh, I never would! I must admit, though, it wouldn't come as a surprise to many people."
"What?" Elsie looked horrified at the thought.
"Well," Phyllis said, "Edith was saying the other day how pleased Mr. Carson has been with Daisy's experience here so far - and he specifically mentioned the connection she seems to have forged with you and how she just loves the working with the horses. Then there was Andy, who ran into me at the general store a while back and told me Mr. Carson had picked you up the day your truck broke down, and then of course you were having breakfast together last weekend and at least one other time, and then-"
"Alright, alright," Elsie admitted sheepishly. "Small town, I know. I should have expected it."
"But, Elsie," Phyllis asked kindly, "are you sure?"
Elsie looked at her friend and gave her a shy smile. "Phyllis, I have no idea what makes me even say this, but I don't think I have ever been so sure of anyone. He's kind, and intelligent, and thoughtful …"
"… and handsome?" Phyllis supplied. "And has a sweetheart for a daughter?"
"Yes, and those things, too. Oh, Phyllis," Elsie sighed, reaching up to tuck a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear, "do you think I'm being very foolish? I suppose you think I hardly know the man, and he and Daisy have been through hell."
"They're not the only ones," Phyllis reminded her.
Elsie frowned. "Yes, and then there's that. I know much more about him than he knows about me."
"You'll have to tell him, you know."
"I know that!" Elsie snapped. Phyllis's hurt look startled her, and she softened immediately. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just … well, I have thought of that. Of course I have. But I don't want to burden him with it, if that makes sense."
"It does, but if this date turns into something serious, you'll owe it to him to be up front as soon as possible. Something tells me Charles Carson doesn't do well with dishonesty. He seems to be the most stand-up man on the planet." She paused a moment, considering whether or not to continue, but Elsie raised an eyebrow at her in expectation.
Phyllis sighed. "I am sure he'd understand your reservations, Elsie, and I don't think he will question your motives like you think he might. But if it goes further than dinner, please just be honest with the man. It's clear to me that you care for him a great deal already, and I don't think that's a one-way street," she finished, reaching out to pat Elsie's hand as she got up from her chair.
"I know, and I promise I will tell him. And, Phyllis? Thank you."
"Anytime, love," Phyllis answered, squeezing Elsie's shoulder as she made her way out of the office.
Elsie rushed home as soon as she could. She checked in with Anna, who was mucking out the stalls, and set it up for Anna to square all the animals away tonight. She then headed into the house for a relaxing bath, emerging from the bathroom an hour later practically steam-cleaned. She had to admit it: she felt like a new woman.
She fed Max early and took some time to polish her nails - a deep red, she thought, to match the color of the dress she planned to wear. After the lacquer dried, Elsie went to get dressed. Her plan was to be ready fifteen minutes before Charles arrived at her door - and thank goodness she'd allowed for that extra time.
She ran through two pairs of pantyhose before swearing loudly and digging out her garter and stockings. The sexiness would be lost since he'd never even see it, she figured, but what the hell? The damned stockings were just much easier to put on! She needed to iron a wrinkle out of the dress, too, and dig out the black patent pumps that she always wore with it. She put the finishing touches on her hair - worn down, which she never did at work - and curled, and added a bit of her favorite perfume to finish the picture.
She was ready at 5:52. At 5:57, Max's bark let her know that Charles was here, and her heart hammered in her chest.
Oh, Elsie girl, you HAVE to calm down. It's only dinner … The door chime sounded, and she went to open it.
"Hello, Charles," she said, and then gasped as he pulled a small bouquet of white roses from behind his back. "Oh, you shouldn't have."
Charles heard her gorgeous voice say something - he was relatively certain that it was a greeting - but he couldn't make his mind focus on what it had been. He practically thrust the roses at her, embarrassed at how completely not smoothly this appeared to be going. He just couldn't tear his eyes off of her.
"Elsie?" he managed. "You look … stunning."
Elsie blushed, the color evident as it crept from her chest to the roots of her hair.
Charles continued to stare at her, his eyes raking up and down her body in a way that was most definitely not appropriate, but he couldn't help himself. Her hair was gently curled - much longer than he'd thought it was at a few inches past her shoulders. He noticed some strands of gray, not enough to detract from the gorgeous, auburn color of the rest, but enough to show she had some experience with life. He rather liked that, and he longed to just run his hands through it all and kiss her.
The dress, though … oh, that dress. It was velvet and very fitted to her trim, muscular frame, cut in a V across her chest, where she was wearing a single diamond pendant. In her ears, she was wearing the matching earrings. He was surprised to find that she seemed taller, and then realized it was the three-inch heels she was wearing.
"How - How do women manage those?" he stammered foolishly, pointing at her shoes.
Elsie shook her head and laughed. "It's a necessary evil for some of us, Charles. Please," she said, stepping back, "come on in. I should get these in water. They're lovely, thank you. You didn't have to do that."
"It was my pleasure. A beautiful woman should receive flowers on a first … date." It appeared it was his turn to blush.
"And is this a date, Mr. Carson?" she whispered.
He looked her in the eyes, then - noticing for not the first time that they were so deeply blue they were almost violet. "I do hope so, Ms. Hughes," he replied, an eyebrow raised.
The ride to the restaurant was pleasant, with Elsie telling Charles more about the farm and how she'd improved it from the poor condition it had been in when she bought it long ago. She told him about how her horses were both rescue animals - and half the chickens, too. She talked about how a family of ducks lived in the pond during the summer, and about her sadness at the knowledge that at least one duckling had been lost to a fox.
Charles filled in some gaps in his own story - particularly the aspects of his job, which Elsie was rather interested in. She had a basic knowledge of and appreciation for law, which had surprised him; in his experience, most people's experience with solicitors was quite negative. But, as she explained, Elsie had turned her farm into a business about five years ago, and so she'd done some work with a corporate attorney.
"Oh! Turn here," she said suddenly, indicating a small side street. "Park anywhere you can find a spot, and we'll walk."
"Alright." Charles deftly parallel-parked, and headed over to Elsie's door to help her out of the car.
"It's about three blocks down," she explained, taking his elbow with a smile as he offered it to her. They walked in silence, but it was comfortable - a companionable quiet, as opposed to something they felt had to be filled with meaningless chatter. Charles appreciated that Elsie appeared to be the same as him in that regard; it was the complete opposite of being with Alice, who had seemingly always felt the need to hear herself speak.
"Ah, here we are!" Elsie said brightly, pointing at a large staircase beside which sat two … lions?
"Wait a minute," Charles said, stunned. "The restaurant is a … library?"
"Yes," Elsie answered, clearly happy that he was so surprised. "And it's lovely. Come on, then." She tugged on his elbow, and took a moment to appreciate the 'kid-in-a-candy-store' look on his face.
Bingo, she thought proudly.
"Reservation for Hughes, please," she told the maître-d'hôtel.
"Of course, Ms. Hughes. Follow me, please." He led the way, and Elsie walked in beside Charles, who was still marveling at their surroundings.
The maître-d' made to hold out Elsie's chair for her, but Charles beat him to it. After he and Elsie were seated, the menus and a wine list were handed to them, and they were left to themselves for a few moments. The table Elsie had specifically requested was tucked into a corner near the fireplace.
"It's a shame it's not winter, you know," she said quietly. "When the fireplace is lit and it's decorated outside with snow and Christmas lights, the place becomes almost magical."
"I think it's magical just the way it is," Charles breathed, looking around. The deep, rich wood of the bookshelves, the books themselves, the tables clad in linen and the tuxedoed wait staff all made for an impressive picture, indeed.
"I suspected you might," Elsie said. "And the books are completely real - you can peruse them while you're waiting for your dinner."
He looked up at her then, and her heart did a little flip when he said, "Not tonight, I think. I'd much rather speak with you."
They ordered their food - steaks for both of them, rare for him and medium-rare for her, and shared servings of baked potato and asparagus. "Trust me," Elsie had said, "the side orders can easily feed a small army. One of each should be just fine."
The restaurant was famous for its bourbon selection, but Elsie asked Charles to choose a bottle of wine for them. He'd mentioned that wine was somewhat of a hobby of his, and she knew very little about it. Thus settled, Elsie filled him in a bit on the restaurant.
"The original building was constructed in the late 1700's, the home of a judge, actually. But most of it burned down a hundred years later - save for the octagonal dining room. The man who owned it at that time had the place completely rebuilt around the dining room, expanding far beyond the size of the original home. In 1975, it was turned into a restaurant, with a library theme that brings us right back to the old judge's home."*
"It's quite remarkable," Charles said, awestruck at the history of the place. "Thank you for thinking to bring me here. I'm not sure how you knew I'd like it, but I'm grateful."
They both relaxed as the wine settled in and, before they knew it, two hours had passed and they were sharing a dessert. Elsie raced Charles for the last bite, and won, much to his chagrin.
"I'm a fiend for a good pudding," he admitted, "but my doctor keeps telling me off for it." He tapped his chest. "Heart trouble in the past … I'm supposed to be watching it."
"Well, I'll have to keep an eye on you, then," Elsie said with a wink. She waved for the waiter to bring the check, which she paid as promised despite Charles's protests.
"Elsie, it's too much," he insisted.
"I don't want to hear it, Charles," she scolded him gently.
He sat back, contemplating the beautiful woman before him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed the company of another adult as much as he did Elsie's.
"Then let me offer you a nightcap when we get back to Misty Cove," he offered, sending her a gentle smile.
Elsie leaned back in her own chair and tilted her head. It took about five seconds for her to decide.
"Alright, thank you."
TBC ...
*The Library Restaurant - real place. :) Very cool. Please drop me a note and let me know what you thought! x