I take it last chapter made up for the chapter before? lol Thank you so much to everyone!
And another Happy Birthday to Dizzy-Dreamer!
He wasn't admitting it, but Stella needing to drive was grating at Mac. He still had old-school values. He would probably even pay for the meal. Not that Stella minded, it was one of the reasons she loved him.
Mac wouldn't tell her where they were going, no matter her best interrogation techniques (he knew them before she even tried them). He just gave a 'left at the light' or 'turn here' and she obeyed, turning the Escalade at his will.
She recognised the general direction: Coney Island.
He directed her to a car park and then guided her by the small of her back into the small restaurant.
"You know, if Massimo ever found out we went to a different Italian restaurant, we'd be the on the menù del giorno," she remarked, nodding to the sign displaying 'Per Sempre'.
"We'll just have to keep it on a need-to-know basis," he winked.
She couldn't help thinking if it would be common knowledge that they were dating, or maybe dated. Would today go any further? Would there be a second-
The thought quickly vanished when the aromas of garlic, tomatoes and coffee beans tickled at her senses.
The large room screamed Italy. The rustic décor; it had a family atmosphere but was beautifully romantic, while operatic rhythms serenaded the customers over stereo-system.
A young girl directed them to a window seat over-looking the sidewalk and beach. She returned not long later with fresh warm bread, oils and olives.
Stella draped her dark jacket over the back of the chair, revealing a black square-cut dress with thick twisted straps and a dropper necklace she could only wish came in one of those little blue boxes she loved so much.
"You look…" Words?
"Thank you," she smiled, revelling in the compliment. She was allowed to now. "You don't look so bad yourself."
Mac always felt he lived in suits; he wore one day-in-day-out after all. He had refused to wear one for the date as well. His navy blue sweater and open collar shirt underneath seemed like a good option (He hadn't seen Stella stealing glances in the car).
The movement in his arm was no-where near like before, but at least he'd been given the all-clear to stop wearing that infernal sling. Just the cast remained on his wrist, but that wasn't so bad. Just itchy.
"Okay, can I just say before we get down to business-" Stella started, but Mac's raised eyebrows threw her off, so she smirked saying "You know what I mean. I just want to say, I'm not expecting this to the perfect date. We both said we'd take it slow, so lets do that, okay?"
"Who says it wont be perfect? I'll have you know I am an excellent date."
"Is that so Mr. Taylor? Well, then I take back what I said. I expect to be wined and dined like never before."
Xx
Between the main course and dessert, Stella excused herself to the restrooms. She stood before the mirrors, primped her hair and spritzed some more perfume on.
"First date?" A woman asked joining her at the basins.
"You could say that."
"He's a cutey." the blonde winked at Stella's reflection.
"He isn't that bad, huh?"
"You kidding? He's crazy about you too. I'm on the blind-date-from-hell, but you guys are in my eye line when I tune out of whatever what's-his-name is talking about. So I've seen how he looks at you…envious!" She practically squealed the last word.
Stella wasn't quite sure how to take her statement. The whole date didn't feel real. She was actually on a date with him. Not out for dinner. A date.
And what of this look? Is what this…strange lady saying true? Mac had said he'd, you know, loved her, but that was just a heat-of-the-moment thing, right?
He didn't actually mean it, right?
Right?
Xx
Mac had been internally berating himself the entire time Stella was gone.
Is she cooking up an excuse to go home?
Why would she want to date me?
It's not a pity date. She knows how you feel, you know how she feels. Snap out of it.
Although deep down he knew this night, this date, was right, he couldn't fight the feeling that he was desecrating Claire's memory. Was he really ready?
He was getting so sick of asking himself that. And yet he was sill doing so.
What would Claire have said to him right now? Probably something like "Oh, suck it up man!" between fits of giggles.
Or "She isn't going to bite, Mac. Unless you want her to, of course."
As if on cue, as if someone had clicked the 'play' button, a scene played out before Mac's mind's eye.
"Y'know, I love this woman," Claire slurred, wrapping a clumsy arm around Stella, who replied with a surprised "o-okay."
"She's fantastic!" Claire squeezed her shoulders.
"And she's drunk!" Stella smirked, looking from Claire to an amused Mac.
"I'm not drunk…I'm hammered," she giggled. "But listen, when I'm six-foot-under and dead-"
"-Claire!-"
"Hopefully the other way 'round first," another giggle, "I want this woman to be the next Mrs. Taylor."
"I think someone needs to go home now," Mac smiled, as much as he loved his wife, and as much as she could drink the guys under the table, when drunk, her mouth had a mind of his own.
Stella carefully passed wife to husband.
"I'm counting on you, Stella," Claire called over her shoulder.
"I'll remind him, don't worry," she smirked, chuckling at the inebriated absurdity of the statement.
"You really are killing me, Mac," Stella's voice broke him from his reverie.
"I am?"
She sat back down and gestured to the plate in front of her. "Tiramisu? You think I can fit into this dress by eating Tiramisu?"
"If you don't want it-" he reached over.
"You touch this and I break the other wrist."
Xx
After the quarrel over the check, they took a moonlit walk down the sidewalk, watching the shimmers of the waves in the distance.
Stella was bundled back up in her leather jacket, fighting the night chill. She wrapped an arm around Mac's, non-apologetically stealing some of his body's warmth. He entwined his fingers through hers and held her close.
They slowed down and leant against the railings, hands still entwined, eyes still cast to the beach.
Their glances connected.
His green eyes danced over her features, noticing she'd never looked more beautiful than in the moment before he finally kissed her.
Stella's own green eyes bore into his, realising a split second before it happened what he was planning to do.
Mac leant in, closing the already small expanse between them.
Stella's eyes fluttered closed as her lips touched his.
It was a sweet kiss. Tender, soft, perfect for a first.
After a moment, they twisted their bodies to face each other, lips still connected. Conjoined hands down by their sides, Mac's other wishing it could touch her hip, her face, her hair.
He finally remembered that he could, he was no longer bound by a sling. He didn't know where to go first. Hip? Bring her closer?
No, he needed to touch her. Properly touch her, feel her skin under his fingers.
A grimace shot through him as he moved his hand to her cheek. Apparently his shoulder didn't share his fingers' need.
Stella pulled back, worried. The lazy circles Mac's fingers played across her cheek settled her fears. She was hoping that her smile wasn't as freakishly large as it was in her mind.
She touched Mac's cheek and gave him another peck before leading him to a bench and folding into his side.
She fit into the crook of his arm, her body sitting diagonally across the seat, his (good) arm over her shoulder playing with her fingers.
Stella couldn't help the content sigh that escaped her.
He chose this moment to fish her ring out of his pocket with his throbbing arm, switch it to his other hand and slide it over a finger.
"I know you think I had no one to come back for, but you're wrong," he whispered.
"Really?"
"Yeah…Mrs. Grubman next door needs me to feed her cat while she's away."
She chuckled, giving him a dig in the side.
"Can I ask you a question?" he enquired, when everything had settled back into a comfortable silence.
"Of course."
"Were you actually going to date Stankevich?"
"Even if I did, it wouldn't have been serious."
"Because he's going back to Ohio?"
"Because I would have been Stella Stankevich! That doesn't sound good."
He snorted a "No."