Disclaimer: Sony owns the Facts of Life characters, not I. I'm borrowing them for the moment, but will put them back where I found them without profiting from the exercise.
Archiving: Only with the author's permission.
Author's Note: First, as always, more gratitude to my reviewers and followers for your support. Writing is much easier when I get to believe it will be read. Drop me a line, please... let me know you were here!
In addition, to those fellow writers whose work I admire, thanks again for your advice and feedback. As the chapters get harder to cough up (who knew that would happen?) your support matters all the more. Special thanks to Jaxx37, an awesome writer in her own right, but also a great teacher and support, especially with this chapter.
Ah yes, finally the date, 26 years later. What a terrifyingly huge moment to try to create! Here's hoping I came close to doing it justice. It's proving to be longer than I expected (good news, right?) so I'll be posting in two parts. Shouldn't be nearly this long a wait for part 2.
Please do let me know of any errors or inconsistencies you find, or frankly anything else you care to mention :).
Most importantly, please enjoy!
Jo checked the time -6:48- on her third trip around the block in the BMW. The car had been the first part of the date she'd arranged and, as it turned out, it had helped decide the rest.
The owner had been so impressed with her successful diagnosis and repair of the M-Coupe that he'd offered to pay Sal more than triple his fee. Ever the honest businessman, her uncle had refused the bonus, singing the praises of his niece instead. Undeterred, the customer had left his business card behind with instructions for "the Magic Mechanic" to call if ever she needed anything. Scrawled on the back of the card were the words "I owe you one."
Mr. Zalenski had been delighted to receive her call this morning, even rearranging his schedule to be able to meet her for coffee and hand over his treasured ride in person, proclaiming, "I must meet this magical girl-mechanic with a Polish name!"
Jo instinctively liked the man. Over coffee and a danish he told of his journey from Poland in 1989, bringing his young family to the states in search of a better life for his children. Now the owner of a growing construction firm with his eldest son preparing to take over the reins, he spoke with pride and gratitude of the opportunities he'd found in this new land. They seemed to share a strong belief in hard work and family, leaving Jo wondering if this was part of her culture. Exiting the coffee shop some 20 minutes later, they were strolling easily up the street when Mr. Zalenski looked at her with a sly smile.
"Must be some date, eh?"
Jo couldn't resist grinning even as she felt her face redden. "Yeah, she's... she's one of a kind."
"Ah. Well, for a one-of-a-kind woman we need a one-of-a-kind car, no?"
Jo's confusion was evident as she glanced at the man. The M-Coupe was a nice a car, but far from one-of-a-kind. Smiling, he pointed up the street where another car came into view.
"No... That's not a Z1?" Jo asked in surprise. She knew that BMW had only made 8,000 based on a popular concept car, and had never sold them in North America. "How did you... ?" her voice trailed off as she crouched, hands respectfully in her pockets, for a closer look at the low slung convertible showing none of its 25 years.
"Imported it myself!" Mr. Zalenski said with evident pride. "Almost a year of paperwork, but she's here!" Reaching into his pocket, he tossed her the keys. "Enjoy!" he grinned.
Meeting Mr. Zalenski had left Jo sentimental about her own Polish roots. Having spent the better part of the morning and the night before looking up fancy restaurants that might impress a millionaire socialite, she'd finally relaxed as she called to make reservations at the little Polish place where a young Charlie Polniaczek had won the heart of Rose Largo. Her parents' relationship may not have stood the test of time, but both parties still agreed that the venue had been perfect.
Checking the time again -6:57- Jo pulled in front of The Plaza. Dropping the top half of the door into the bottom half, the Z1's distinguishing feature, she stepped out of the car. The valet, clearly a car junky as well, eyed the BMW appreciatively as Jo held the keys out to him. Before he could take them, however, she turned toward a flash of beauty at the hotel entrance. Seeing his disappointment when she closed her hands around the keys and pocketed them, Jo offered a shrug and a "sorry" over her shoulder as she made her way toward the object of her attention.
Jo's exterior cool, leaning against the cherry red sports-car in her tailored charcoal suit, revealed nothing of the breath still caught in her throat and the heart threatening to leap out of her chest as she watched Blair glide down the stairs toward her. Literally turning heads in the strapless black dress setting off golden hair and accentuating cleavage and curves, Jo had a hard time believing the woman was actually smiling at her, of all people. As she reached the bottom step, she took Jo's offered hand and moved closer, all but purring the familiar, "Hello Jo." In response, Jo took a single long-stemmed orange rose from the car, offering it to Blair as she dropped the passenger's door without breaking eye contact. The charade of perfect cool fell away, however, when Jo first tried to speak.
"Blair... you... uh... wow!" she croaked.
"Why thank you, Jo," Blair smiled as she sniffed the rose while pointedly checking out her date. Eyes twinkling with flirtatious humour she added, "You wow, too!"
"Thanks," Jo chuckled, embarrassed. Leaning in for a kiss, she whispered, "You're early... I was expecting to wait." For years Jo had watched Blair leave every date waiting for half an hour or more, and had made reservations based on this knowledge.
"I think we've waited long enough, don't you?" Blair winked before wrapping her arms around Jo's neck and turning what was meant to be a a chaste peck into something so passionately promising it left the brunette hopelessly aroused.
Holding onto the car to compensate for suddenly weak knees, Jo held Blair's hand as she helped her into the passenger seat. As Jo raised the door back in place, Blair looked the car over, remarking, "I don't think I've seen one of these outside Europe."
"No, you probably haven't," Jo replied, pleased that Blair still noticed fast cars as she made her way around the back to the driver's seat.
Winding through city traffic, Jo jumped in her seat at the depth of connection she felt when Blair's hand found its way to hers on the gearshift. Glancing over, she caught the blonde's mischievous smirk and insincere apology. Smiling back as she relaxed into the warm touch, Jo brushed her thumb over the knuckles, enjoying the contact for the rest of the drive.
"You up for a walk?" she asked as they neared the Hudson River Park ahead of schedule.
"Sounds great," Blair smiled, eyeing the purple and orange sky reflecting in the water.
They walked by the river, enjoying the unseasonably warm evening as fallen leaves crunched underfoot. The leaves still in the trees, Jo noted, were the same golden orange as the setting sun that lit them, adding a romantic warm glow to the evening.
"I want to paint this," Blair murmured, moving closer so that her shoulder bumped into Jo's for the third time.
Encouraged by Blair's touch in the car Jo took her hand, hiding a smile when their fingers intertwined without hesitation. "I'd love to see that. Do you still paint?"
"Not in a long time," Blair sighed, then with a sideways glance at Jo and a subtle squeeze of her hand she added, "But I see that changing. I see alot of things changing."
They stopped for a moment, leaning on the railing by the river to watch the sun sink out of sight, side by side with Jo's arm around Blair's waist. In time, Jo found herself instead watching Blair watch the sunset, fascinated by the soft light that played in her hair and in her eyes, improving implausibly on perfection.
"Beautiful," she whispered under her breath just as the last rays disappeared, causing Blair to nod in silent agreement before seeing in Jo's eyes that she wasn't describing the sunset at all. Touched by the sincerity of the tone, Blair held Jo's gaze losing herself easily in the depths of emerald green. Raising a hand, she ran a fingertip along the edge of the lips that had uttered the word, as though memorizing their shape, then slowly moved her own lips over them.
Struck by the concentrated intent behind Blair's kiss, Jo was overwhelmed by the surreal nature of the moment. This was like sitting in awe of a spectacular painting, and then having it suddenly come to life only to express an avid interest in the viewer. Pulling Blair closer and deepening the kiss in an effort to convey these emotions, she realized that even this description fell short. Blair's greatest beauty actually lay hidden in her heart, a quality no painting could ever hope to reproduce. Moved immeasurably by the opportunity presented her tonight and swearing to prove herself worthy, she finally allowed conscious thought to drift away as she gave in to the moment, to the incredible woman in her arms.
Blair must have sensed the shift, letting out a whimper that dropped into a moan and suddenly digging her nails into the back of Jo's neck, drawing an echoing moan from the other woman. When the need for air momentarily exceeded their desire they separated only their lips, neither willing to forego the closeness they'd found. Each tried to speak, but finding words insufficient chose instead to gaze into each other's eyes, hoping to find more ardent communication there.
When they continued their walk, holding hands, it was in lamplit twilight. As their conversation grew lighter, their mood became playful, laughing as they kicked leaves at each other. Blair was retelling a tale when she noticed her usually attentive date looking over her shoulder toward the pier. Turning to follow her gaze, she remarked, "Looks like a band's setting up."
"Yeah," Jo replied, still squinting at the band members. "You wanna check it out on the way back?"
"Sounds perfect!" Blair nodded, pulling Jo by the hand to plant a kiss on her cheek.
"Prokowski's..." Blair read the sign outside the restaurant. "Polish?"
Jo nodded.
"Any relation?"
"Distant cousins, I think," Jo replied, opening the door and guiding Blair through with her hand at the small of her back. "But I've been coming here all my life."
They were seated at a cozy table by the fireplace adorned with a small vase of cut flowers. After taking their drink order, the handsome young waiter with a Polish accent lit the candle on the table before leaving the couple to review the menu.
"Pierogies!" Blair exclaimed, beaming.
"Best ones west of Gdansk," Jo confirmed, relaxing into her chair with the reassurance that she'd chosen well.
Dinner conversation was warm and comfortable in the way it can only be with old friends, but with the captivating addition of flirtatious glances and gestures. Watching Blair enjoy her pierogies, Jo realized with a smile that her appreciation of food in comfortable company brought forth moans and facial expressions reminiscent of other carnal delights. Recalling their clandestine midnight ventures into Mrs. Garrett's kitchen years ago, she blushed at the sudden understanding of why she partook even when she wasn't hungry.
Noticing Jo's distracted gaze, Blair grinned and took advantage, reaching her fork across the table to steal the last pierogy from her companion's plate. Jo feigned annoyance, fending her off with her own knife and fork, but acquiesced and laughed easily when Blair offered it back, secretly enjoying the intimacy of sharing.
Some time later, still enjoying the ambiance, they held hands across the table, watching each other by flickering candle-light, not noticing or caring that verbal communication had died off quite a while ago. When Blair stood to use the powder room, Jo stood formally to watch her go,waiting until she was out of sight and earshot before pulling out her phone and rapidly scrolling through her contacts. With the phone to her ear she glanced nervously after her date.
"Hey Marty... is that your band setting up on Pier 45? Yeah? How long will you guys be out there?" She looked again toward the washrooms as she listened to his reply.
"Perfect. Listen man, I need a big favour. You ever hear of a fantastic era they call 'The '80s'?"
By the time Blair returned looking subtly more beautiful... How does she do that? Jo wondered... the bill had been paid with a hearty tip. Offering her arm, Jo nodded toward the exit. "You ready?"
