4 days later…
Mark walked into the ER a little aware of the recognition of some staff members. Susan pointed to the lounge when she saw him and tried to get on with her patient as little distracted as possible. Ten minutes later she escaped to find him. He wasn't in the lounge like she'd expected. She quickly changed out of her work clothes into the semi-formal skirt and jacket he'd not-so-subtly suggested she should wear to dinner. 'I must actually be imagining things.' She thought as she exited the lounge. He walked through the sliding doors and met her only a few feet from the threshold.
"Weren't you here before?" she asked confused and kissed him in greeting as the left the ER.
"Um, yeah. I saw you weren't quite finished so went down the road for these." He pulled a bouquet of sunflowers from behind his back. "The florist said they were a symbol of devotion and faithfulness. So I decided to give them to my best friend…"
Susan grinned. "Thank you." She reached up for another kiss, slightly more lingering than the one that had become their common greeting. "I love them."
"Because she might doubt my devotion and faithfulness when I'm a several hundred miles away."
"No she won't."
"Good." He slid his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead as they started walking down the road.
"So where are we going?"
He tapped his nose, "You all excited?"
"Yes. I've given you far too much time by yourself so you could have come up with anything."
"I'll give you a hint. 'In my life'" he spoke the memorized lyrics sing-songing bits of them, "'she has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun. And my life seems to stop as if something is over and something is barely begun…"
"A poetry reading?"
"Oh, give me a bit more credit than that. I guess you'll just have to wait and see." He led her into a quiet restaurant.
"I love this place." She grinned.
"Good thing this isn't the surprise then."
After dinner they walked back toward the centre of town. The streets were fairly busy, and dark despite the streetlights.
"Can I get another clue?" Susan asked
"Um, 'At the end of the day you're another day older'." He half sing-songed again.
"Charming thought." She looked up at him wryly.
"We're here." He led her up a grand staircase before she could see the title above the door or the advertising outside.
"Okay, I give up." She said. He didn't reply. At the top of the stairs she recognised the gaunt child overlayed with a French flag but she didn't make the connection.
"Les Miserables." He said as if he were secretly French, and handed her their tickets from his coat pocket. She handed them to the doorman who directed them to their seats.
"I never knew you were a closet theatre-buff. Or are you a closet Frenchman?"
He laughed. "Neither. This is one of the few things I will be forever grateful to Jenn for. You'll see."
"That should be the punch line on the poster."
"Just you wait."
"Is it in French?" she sat down, still a little cynical.
"No. The original text, by Victor Hugo, was. But other than names, it's all anglais." He showed off his poor French as the lights dimmed.
He'd seen it before – twice. Once with Jenn, then on his own just after she left him – instead of comfort food. He was as enthralled as ever, except for desperately hoping Susan would love it. He watched her when Fantine died, amazed at how beautiful she was with tears trailing down her face. He watched her laugh at Madame Thenardier's fabulous verse, and Gavroche's cheeky song.
The light's brightened for the interval and she turned to him smiling.
"What do you think?" he beamed.
"Good choice." She nodded. "It's going to be sad isn't it?"
"It's called The Miserable." He took her hand, loving the innocence of such touch. "But it's okay in the end."
She leaned back in her chair, still holding his hand.
"Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?" he played with her fingers.
She looked at him bashfully and shook her head so slightly he wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it.
"Well, that's because sometimes," he kissed one finger, grateful that the chairs beside them had been vacated for the interval, "words fail to say what I mean. And this is one of those times." He kissed the next finger, disappointed to see that their neighbours were shuffling along the row toward them.
"Tell me later." She whispered cheekily and squeezed his hand, turning back to the stage expectantly.
Marius sang, "In my life, she has burst like the music of angles the light of the sun. And my life seems to stop as if something is over and something has barely begun." Susan grinned and lifted Mark's hand to her lips in appreciation.
** ** **
After clapping for ten minutes their hands were numb.
"That was fantastic." Susan grinned.
"Glad you approve." He took her hand to lead her out.
"Thank you. I'm going to be singing that all week. Or humming and trying to remember the words." She laughed, still wiping the tears from her face.
"First 'official' date was a success then?"
"No question. Best first date on record." They walked out of the theatre arm-in-arm.
Mark walked into the ER a little aware of the recognition of some staff members. Susan pointed to the lounge when she saw him and tried to get on with her patient as little distracted as possible. Ten minutes later she escaped to find him. He wasn't in the lounge like she'd expected. She quickly changed out of her work clothes into the semi-formal skirt and jacket he'd not-so-subtly suggested she should wear to dinner. 'I must actually be imagining things.' She thought as she exited the lounge. He walked through the sliding doors and met her only a few feet from the threshold.
"Weren't you here before?" she asked confused and kissed him in greeting as the left the ER.
"Um, yeah. I saw you weren't quite finished so went down the road for these." He pulled a bouquet of sunflowers from behind his back. "The florist said they were a symbol of devotion and faithfulness. So I decided to give them to my best friend…"
Susan grinned. "Thank you." She reached up for another kiss, slightly more lingering than the one that had become their common greeting. "I love them."
"Because she might doubt my devotion and faithfulness when I'm a several hundred miles away."
"No she won't."
"Good." He slid his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead as they started walking down the road.
"So where are we going?"
He tapped his nose, "You all excited?"
"Yes. I've given you far too much time by yourself so you could have come up with anything."
"I'll give you a hint. 'In my life'" he spoke the memorized lyrics sing-songing bits of them, "'she has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun. And my life seems to stop as if something is over and something is barely begun…"
"A poetry reading?"
"Oh, give me a bit more credit than that. I guess you'll just have to wait and see." He led her into a quiet restaurant.
"I love this place." She grinned.
"Good thing this isn't the surprise then."
After dinner they walked back toward the centre of town. The streets were fairly busy, and dark despite the streetlights.
"Can I get another clue?" Susan asked
"Um, 'At the end of the day you're another day older'." He half sing-songed again.
"Charming thought." She looked up at him wryly.
"We're here." He led her up a grand staircase before she could see the title above the door or the advertising outside.
"Okay, I give up." She said. He didn't reply. At the top of the stairs she recognised the gaunt child overlayed with a French flag but she didn't make the connection.
"Les Miserables." He said as if he were secretly French, and handed her their tickets from his coat pocket. She handed them to the doorman who directed them to their seats.
"I never knew you were a closet theatre-buff. Or are you a closet Frenchman?"
He laughed. "Neither. This is one of the few things I will be forever grateful to Jenn for. You'll see."
"That should be the punch line on the poster."
"Just you wait."
"Is it in French?" she sat down, still a little cynical.
"No. The original text, by Victor Hugo, was. But other than names, it's all anglais." He showed off his poor French as the lights dimmed.
He'd seen it before – twice. Once with Jenn, then on his own just after she left him – instead of comfort food. He was as enthralled as ever, except for desperately hoping Susan would love it. He watched her when Fantine died, amazed at how beautiful she was with tears trailing down her face. He watched her laugh at Madame Thenardier's fabulous verse, and Gavroche's cheeky song.
The light's brightened for the interval and she turned to him smiling.
"What do you think?" he beamed.
"Good choice." She nodded. "It's going to be sad isn't it?"
"It's called The Miserable." He took her hand, loving the innocence of such touch. "But it's okay in the end."
She leaned back in her chair, still holding his hand.
"Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?" he played with her fingers.
She looked at him bashfully and shook her head so slightly he wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it.
"Well, that's because sometimes," he kissed one finger, grateful that the chairs beside them had been vacated for the interval, "words fail to say what I mean. And this is one of those times." He kissed the next finger, disappointed to see that their neighbours were shuffling along the row toward them.
"Tell me later." She whispered cheekily and squeezed his hand, turning back to the stage expectantly.
Marius sang, "In my life, she has burst like the music of angles the light of the sun. And my life seems to stop as if something is over and something has barely begun." Susan grinned and lifted Mark's hand to her lips in appreciation.
** ** **
After clapping for ten minutes their hands were numb.
"That was fantastic." Susan grinned.
"Glad you approve." He took her hand to lead her out.
"Thank you. I'm going to be singing that all week. Or humming and trying to remember the words." She laughed, still wiping the tears from her face.
"First 'official' date was a success then?"
"No question. Best first date on record." They walked out of the theatre arm-in-arm.