The restaurant Bill decided on, Chez Pierre, was on the finer side of Arlen dining. Hanging from the high ceilings were sparkling crystal chandeliers, which reflected gleaming light off of the polished wood furniture and floors. The tables were adorned with crisp white tablecloths, and smartly dressed servers flitted between them to present fancy bottles of wine. The food was exquisite, prepared by a classically trained chef in a shiny stainless steel kitchen. The menu prices, well…

Bill sat at the table, jittering and glancing around nervously. It had been quite a while since he went on a real, actual date with somebody, let alone somebody as attractive as the woman in the picture. He didn't know what to expect. He tried to prepare himself for the worst, to protect himself, to soften the inevitable blow. She probably didn't know what he looked like, as Bill didn't think Tom had a picture of him on his phone to show her. Therefore, it was likely she may take one look at him - bald, fat, old... - and turn back out the door. But she may be too nice to do that, and instead try to politely push through dinner, but with clear disinterest (and maybe even revulsion) Hell, she may not even show up at all. Bill considered all these possibilities. He didn't expect anything positive to come out this evening, although it was nice to dream otherwise. All of his past relationships ended poorly, and any that didn't were just one night stands or a quick fling. Lenore was the best thing to have ever happened to him, nothing could be better than that, and look how that ended up.

He was fidgeting with his watch, lost in thought, not aware of his surroundings for a moment. He didn't see her approach the table, in a black dress and heels, her dark hair spilled in waves over her shoulders, her golden skin smooth and glowing. He jumped with a start, nearly spilling his glass of water when she spoke, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Hi, are you Bill?" she questioned, and smiled with amusement when that startled him.

"H-Hi, Yes, I am, Hi, I mean-" Bill stumbled out of his seat to shake her hand. Shake her hand? What an idiot. "I am Bill, and you must be Mia?" He tried to recompose himself, hoping something was still salvageable.

"Yep! It's nice to meet you." Her smile broadened when it was clear she found the right person. Bill hesitated a moment, wondering briefly if he should pull out her chair for her. Would that be too weird? Mia sat herself down before he could decide anyway, so he quickly slid back to the table.

His heart was hammering through his chest. This gorgeous woman was sitting mere feet away from him, giving him her full attention, and smiling at him with genuine interest. Dare he believe she didn't seem disgusted or disappointed at all?

"I'm sorry for being late, traffic was awful once I hit Lorenzo Street," she explained.

"Oh, it's fine, I was only waiting for a couple of minutes."

Mia smiled again. Bill's heart continued to pound rapidly.

"I'm going to be upfront with you," Mia announced, "This is the first date I've been on in like, seven years. So I apologize in advance if I'm doing it wrong." Her demeanor was light and playful, yet her eyes betrayed a sense of worry.

"No, I mean, uh-" he cleared his throat and tried to start over. "It's been a while for me, too," he finished lamely.

"Great, then we can both figure it out together!" she declared. Another smile.

Bill doubted he would ever get that smile out of his mind for as long as he lived.

The server then arrived at their tableside and handed them the menus as he rattled off the evening special. He left them to decide on their order after Mia requested a glass of wine.

"Make that two," Bill told him.

Mia perused the menu while Bill tried to look at Mia without making it too obvious. Especially when it came to her cleavage...

"I've never been here before," Mia said, looking up at him after a moment. Bill's eyes flicked quickly back to her face, hopefully in time. "What do you recommend?"

"Oh, um, well everything is good. I really like their Parmesan chicken."

Mia closed her menu. "That's what I'll get, then," she said brightly.

The server soon returned with their drinks, took their orders, ("A fine choice!" he said of the chicken) and left for the kitchen.

"So, Tom says you work together?" Mia inquired after a sip from her glass.

"Yeah, down at the base." Bill mentally chastised himself. Obviously she would know where her brother-in-law worked.

"What do you do there?"

Bill faltered. "I, well, I'm a barber." He braced himself for her reaction, however subtle it would be.

Mia's face lit up. "Really? That's cool!"

Bill paused. That was far different than the usual 'Oh,' he would receive. "You think so?" he said apprehensively.

"Yeah! I expected you to say drill sergeant or something," Mia chuckled. "Barber is much more unique."

Bill still felt a little uncertain. Mia was looking attentively right in his eyes when they spoke. He was still expecting "the catch" he asked Tom about.

"Well, I do love my job," he said. "What do you do?"

"I'm a veterinary technician."

"Now that is cool," Bill said, impressed, "Do you pet the animals that come in?"

"Absolutely, that's the biggest perk of the job!"

They talked for quite a while, the discussion flowing easily. Bill hadn't even stumbled on his words or said anything too embarrassing. He held Mia's attention, somehow, and she was so...alluring. Her eyes shimmered as she looked at him, and her intrigue in him was genuine. It was almost a bit overwhelming, being in such a spotlight. But he liked it. It was so rare for him to feel interesting to somebody.

After an ease in conversation, Mia asked, "So, what did Tom tell you about me?"

"Nothing, really. Just that you were his sister-in-law, and he showed me your picture."

"Ooh, my picture? What did you think?" she teased.

"Um..." he stalled.

"That bad, huh?"

"No! Um, I thought you were, uh, very good-looking." Bill was blushing furiously. He thought it would have sounded creepy to say she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Oh, well, thank you!" Mia said. She still seemed to be in good spirits. He must not have messed up too badly.

"What did he tell you about me?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing at all. Just that you were a guy from work. Oh, and that you were older than me."

"How old are you? I mean, if you don't mind my asking…" His blush came back.

"Thirty," she answered with a note of apprehension, "Is that too young for you?"

"Oh, no. I hadn't thought about it. But, no. Eleven years isn't too bad. Um, am I too old for you?"

"No, I actually kind of like it." she replied simply.

Whatever answer he was expecting, it wasn't that. Much like most of the things she said tonight. Any pre-written response he expected from her in his head was completely wrong.

Mia watched him carefully, trying to gauge what he was thinking. She was being more brazen than what she normally would have been. Chugging down that wine was probably not the best idea. Especially since she was practically starved for attention these days…

She was having a great time so far. Bill was good at keeping the conversation going. He asked her about herself and seemed to actually absorb it when she answered. He was attractive, too. And his forearms were sexy to top it off. She tried not to look at them. Damn this dry spell.

Their food arrived after another period of conversation. The chicken was as delicious as it looked. This restaurant was much nicer than anything she'd ever been in. The nicest place Aaron ever took her might have been similar to this, but that was only in the early stages of dating. Once his hooks had sunken into her, he didn't need to try and impress her anymore.

The conversation picked back up, continuing just as easily and naturally as had been. Mia's buzz was abating; hopefully she wouldn't say anything too bold again. They talked about the dish they were eating, commenting on the techniques they thought were used in its preparation.

"I love cooking," Mia said enthusiastically when he asked. Bill had picked up on this when she mentioned the word roux.

"Me, too! What do you like to cook?"

"I cook whatever I'm in the mood for usually. I'm great at baking. And I can do some Colombian dishes pretty well, but I usually leave those to my mother or grandmother."

"Oh - you're Colombian?"

"Sí. ¿Qué más?" she replied. She figured Bill probably thought she was Mexican. Any latino person in Texas was usually assumed to be, to those who didn't know any better. In Bill's case it was oftentimes just naivety. "Actually, only half. My mom is Colombian. My dad is from Kansas."

"I myself am Cajun French. Qu'est ce que tu penses de ça?"

"Wow," Mia said, impressed. Everything about this guy was so...different. He had interesting traits and characteristics you don't often see every day.

"Did you grow up in Colombia?"

"No, I'm a Texas native. My mother moved to America when she was nineteen and met my father a year later. How about you? Cajun French, that's Louisiana right?"

"Yep, I lived in New Orleans until I was six, then we moved here to Texas."

"Born on the bayou," quipped Mia.

"Exactly, I love that song!"

After a while they had finished eating. Mia wasn't ready for the date to end. She did really like talking to Bill, but she also liked being out of the house and interacting with someone who wasn't her sister. Anything to prolong the inevitable return home…

"What do you say we skip dessert here and go to this gelato place on 5th and Vine? We could walk over." She hoped she was reading him correctly; he did seem like he was enjoying her company.

"That sounds great!"

She breathed a sigh of relief.

When the check came, Mia pulled out her purse. Bill, of course, stopped her and insisted on paying for the both of them.

"Alright, but I owe you a gelato," she conceded.

They stood up and headed outside. The cool evening air felt good, and the city lights were bright. Colors seemed more clear and the world seemed happier. Bill couldn't remember the last time he felt like this, elated and energetic. Normal people feel like this every day, he thought. How could he possibly go back to the dull and dreary he had become accustomed to?

Mia walked happily beside him down the city blocks. She chatted away animatedly, offering him her experiences and thoughts. He felt like he was floating, gliding through a hazy dream. It was practically sobering when she held onto his forearm as they crossed the intersection. Was he even breathing anymore? Long after she had let go, he still could feel her touch branded onto him, and the way her body felt pressed close to his. He would remember that for the rest of his life. And she acted like it was no big deal...

They made it to the gelato shop, which was cold and dimly lit for ambiance. Mia chose the mint chocolate chip flavor, and Bill picked -

"Vanilla? So adventurous!" Mia teased him. He smiled.

Bill tried again to pay but Mia refused to let him.

"I still owe you for dinner!" she pointed out.

"You don't owe me anything, I wanted to pay."

"Well, I want to pay for this. It was my idea, anyway."

He ate his gelato as he watched her at the register. She was quite a bit shorter than he, if not for her heels. He usually ended up with women who were taller, almost as tall as he in some cases. And he usually ended up with women who were coarse and raw. Not much in common with the soft, almost ethereal girl he was with now. He supposed it was because usually such sophisticated women don't want anything to do with him. And yet, here she was, still with him, even planning an additional place to go with him.

Her cheekbones caught the light from the hanging lamps overhead, shadows falling into the hollows of her cheeks. She laughed as she talked to the cashier, her hair shaking back to shine in light, her dress swaying over the tops of her legs. Bill suddenly felt disassociated, as if this weren't even happening to him, like he was watching a movie scene about someone else's life. He felt uncomfortably aware of himself, his stomach pressing against his shirt, the large bald spot on his head, nothing of note otherwise, nothing that could possibly be of any interest or attraction to her...

"Come on, I know a place we can go sit," Mia said when she finished paying.

They crossed the street and walked a short ways until they came to a large park. Lining the perimeter were shrubs and trees and bushes of flowers. In the center was a huge fountain, spraying a stream of moonlit water high into the air and collecting back down into its concrete pool below.

They sat together on a wooden slatted bench overlooking the fountain. It was peaceful, listening to the water, looking at the stars, sitting next to Mia. She sat down rather close to him, their thighs almost touching but not quite. He could smell her perfume, delicate like peonies and vanilla. Her eyes shone with light from the moon as she looked up at him. They spoke quietly together, about themselves, about everything, about nothing at all. Bill was in the moment again, his disconnected feeling had vanished like a wisp of smoke. It was amazing how easy it was to talk to her, and how enjoyable. It was never like this with anyone else…

Suddenly, Mia's phone rang. She dug it out of her purse and looked at the screen. "Shoot. I'm sorry, I have to take this." She answered it, speaking in Spanish in low tones. Every now and then she giggled. Bill tried to interpret who might be on the other line. Not a boyfriend, he hoped.

After a moment she hung up. "I'm so sorry about that. My sister had been texting me asking how things were going; I haven't looked at my phone so she called to see if I was okay."

"Oh, it's fine. Your sister - are you close?"

"Yes, very. We're best friends, actually. Do you have any siblings?"

"No. I'm an only child. I have a cousin though. And my friends and I are pretty close. I'd consider them like brothers."

"Ooh, tell me about them."

He told her about Hank, and how sensible and wise he was. He told her about Boomhauer, who was calm, cool, and collected. And he told her about Dale, glossing over his more brash traits, and described him as passionate and true to himself. He told her how they've been best friends since they were kids, and now they all live on the same street. And it was with a look of thoughtful reflection, looking up at the stars, when he told her how much they meant to him.

"They sound like wonderful people. It must be so nice living so close together, too."

"It is. I will introduce you someday. I mean-" Why was he already thinking about having her meet his friends?

"I'd love to meet them." Mia smiled. "Anyone you're friends with have got to be great."

It was impossible for him to be awkward around her. Any time he said or did something he felt was embarrassing, she always simply carried on like it was nothing. She never once made him feel bad about himself. Quite the contrary, she made him feel like he was something substantial, something significant.

"Tell me about your sister."

"Well, Jackie - Jacqueline - is three years younger than I am. She's a physical therapist. She's pretty sporty and athletic. She can be kind of uh, blunt, but it comes from a good place…" Mia thought a moment. How could she possibly encapsulate what kind of person Jackie was? "She's very gracious and giving. The kind who would give you the shirt off her back. She's done a lot for me...helped me through some tough spots."

"Sounds like she can do it all," Bill reflected, "Jackie seems like a lovely person. I'm glad she's been there for you."

They turned to the fountain again, enjoying the tranquility of the running water and the clear night air. The silence between them was comfortable; they didn't feel that demand to find things to fill it. Mia felt relaxed, maybe a bit sleepy. It was getting late. She didn't want to go home but she knew she would have to eventually.

"Mia," Bill said beside her, looking at his twiddling hands. He looked as though he was fighting with what to say. "I had a lot of fun tonight. I mean, I still am, but, you know, um…" he rubbed his forehead nervously.

Mia sensed his anxiousness and turned toward him, her knees pointing closer to his. "I had a lot of fun, too," she said, looking up at him. "I hope we can hang out again."

"Yes, I would like that." His posture softened with relief.

Mia thought it was somewhat endearing, his nervousness around her, like she was actually something impressive. How could someone like him be intimidated by someone like her? She knew she was boring and annoying. Aaron had only told her that for years.

They surrendered to the lateness of the night and made their way back side by side down the city blocks. They didn't talk about much, instead they each reflected on the evening they shared together, lost in thought. Mia felt light, like a heavy weight had been lifted off of her. The weight had been crushing her for so long, she hadn't realized she was being crushed anymore. But now she floated like a feather under the street lights, feeling revived, renewed, like her old self. Or, maybe, like a new self.

Mia once more held Bill's forearm as they crossed the intersection...and this time, she didn't let go.