****
Jim pulled into the Wegman's parking lot on his way home from work. He had about an hour and a half before Pam was due to come over, and it wouldn't take him long to pick up the few things he needed at the store. Automatically, he drove towards the "mother and baby" spaces located next to the entrance of the store. As he backed into the space he remembered that Ellie wasn't with him. He refused to be one of those people he hated that parked in those spaces when they clearly didn't have any children with them. It didn't take him long to find somewhere else to park. He grabbed a cart and hurried inside, going over in his head the list of items he needed. They were ordering pizza, so he didn't need to pick up much. But he thought it might be a nice idea to have something other than apple juice or milk to offer her to drink. He began making his way towards the alcohol but decided to make a quick detour towards the baby food to pick up a few of Ellie's favorites.
He made it to the liquor aisle thinking he knew what he wanted, but of course the selection totally intimidated him. Standing in front of hundreds of different bottles of wine, it hit him that he had absolutely no idea what she liked to drink.
"Don't think too hard, your head might explode."
Jim spun around and smiled warmly at the elderly woman standing behind him.
"I can see you may need some assistance, am I right?" she asked as she pointed to her name badge with the slogan 'Here to help, just ask' printed underneath her name. "Having trouble deciding what to buy?"
He glanced quickly at her nametag, pausing for a moment to lean down and read the name on her badge, "Hi, Dorothy. Yeah, you could say that. I'm not really a big wine drinker, but I have a friend coming over for dinner tonight..."
"Ohh, is this a lady friend?" She asked curiously.
He could feel himself beginning to blush. "Urm, yeah, sort of."
"Well it's one or the other. Either she is or she isn't. Judging by the colour you're turning, I'm assuming she is. And that she's pretty and you like her."
He gulped and shoved his hands into his pockets. Why did he all of a sudden feel as though he was back in high school, answering his Grandma's nosy questions about whether or not he had a girlfriend?
"I hope you're going to at least fry her up a little chicken to go with those vegetables," she teased cheekily as she peered inside his cart.
"Oh yeah, no. We're urm, we're ordering pizza."
"Pizza?"
"Yeah."
"How very trendy. You young people court so differently nowadays. So, you have no idea what she likes to drink at all?"
He shook his head. "I've only ever seen her drink tea at work..."
"Well, do you have some tea that you can offer her for later on in the evening?"
"I... I don't think so. I'll get some before I leave."
"Good idea. Actually, I'll get my friend Arthur to fetch you some." She placed her thumb and middle finger in her mouth and whistled sharply, attracting the attention of a short grey haired man who was busy stocking shelves at the end of the aisle. "Art, go get this young boy a box of..." She turned towards Jim and waited for his answer.
"I think she likes camomile."
Dorothy raised her voice slightly so that Arthur could hear her. "A box of camomile and a selection of flavoured teas. Thanks, sweetheart."
"Flavoured teas?"
"Yes. I thought it would be a good idea. It would look more natural for you to have a selection box at home and not just her favourite. The aim is to impress her, not scare her. You want her to think how lovely it is that you have tea for her to drink at your house. But you also want to have her wonder if you bought it especially for her or if you enjoy the odd cup yourself. That's why I made sure you don't just have her favourite as an option."
He looked at his watch quickly and noticed he'd already been there longer than he'd planned.
"Don't worry, this won't take long. Now, here's what I think you should do. Buy a bottle of Merlot, some Chardonnay, and then a nice Rose. This way you're giving her a choice," she said as she picked up the wines she'd recommended and handed them to him.
He bent down and picked himself up a six-pack of Corona and placed it in his cart. "Thanks for helping me out. I had no idea what to get."
"It was my pleasure. But you know what else you need? Follow me, darling," she instructed as she made her way over to the in store bakery. "All women love something sweet after a meal. Ohh, how about this...? Oh no, wait, that's carrot cake, you have to be so careful with those, you never know if people will like it or not," she muttered, almost as if she was talking to herself. "You should definitely buy a chocolate cake for dessert. He'll take that one," she told the girl serving them. "My friend Rose makes these and they're delicious." She winked, "Let me tell you, your lady friend will be very impressed with your choice."
"Thanks again for all your help," he replied as he gingerly placed the cake into the cart.
"Don't mention it. It's lovely to see such a nice boy like yourself taking the time to try and impress someone. You see all these young people in trouble on Maury, and they're not sure who their baby daddy is... and it makes me so sad. There's just no wooing anymore. You know?"
Jim kept his head down, his toe scuffing ineffectually at a mark on the shiny floor. "Yeah..."
Jim lifted his hand slightly and waved as he saw Arthur approaching them, boxes in hand. "Oh, thanks Arty," Dorothy smiled as she took the boxes of tea she'd requested from him. "I think you're all done, dear."
"Yep, got everything. Thanks again, Dorothy. You're a life saver."
"It's been my pleasure. But you have to promise me one thing."
"What's that?" he asked as they made their way towards the cash registers.
"Run a comb through your hair before she gets there. You have such a handsome face, but right now you look like Cousin Itt."
Jim grinned and ran a hand through his hair as he began placing his items onto the conveyor belt.
"Yeah, that makes it better," she laughed, as she began to walk toward the back of the store. Suddenly, she turned around and waved. "I hope you have a lovely evening... ah, if only I were a couple of decades younger..."
Jim smiled to himself as he left the store. He was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to have heard that last part.
*****
Jim moved things around a little as he tried to make room in the refrigerator for all of his new purchases.
"Does the liquor aisle at Wegman's have anything left in stock?" Larissa teased as she popped into the kitchen.
Jim spun around to face his mom and laughed. "Haha. Very funny, Mom. Have you ever thought about taking your little comedy show on the road?"
"Don't be silly. I couldn't be away from you guys for that long," she chuckled light heartedly as if that was her only reason for not taking him seriously.
He shut the refrigerator door, resting his head back against it as he ran his hand through his hair. "Do you think I bought too much?" he asked, wringing his hands together anxiously. "I was talked in to buying one of each by the lady at the store."
"The lady at the store? Did you really need that much help?" she grinned.
"I think she was trying to educate me on how to 'woo a woman.'"
Larissa brought her hand up to her mouth to try and stifle the laugh that was threatening to escape. "So, did you learn anything?"
"Uh, yeah. Girls like chocolate cake..."
"Sounds like this lady knows what she's talking about."
Jim exhaled sharply. "I don't know if I'm ready for this, Mom."
"What do you mean? Of course you are," she tried assuring him. "It's just a date, sweetheart."
"It's not a date, Mom..." Jim eyed his mother; just managing to stay silent even as his brain begged him to ask her why the hell she thought this was a date. He'd never said it was a date. Never even hinted at the possibility of this being a date. Date? No. Then realising he'd just spent several seconds convincing himself of what he already knew, he shook his head and continued the staring contest.
She raised her eyebrows and looked at him before shaking her head. "Okay, whatever you say."
"It isn't, Mom. She's just coming over for pizza." He kept his eyes leveled on his mother's until it became quite obvious that she wasn't buying what he was telling her. Which was ridiculous, because this wasn't a date! Was it? He looked around. Wine, food, desert... check, check, check... oh dear God, this might very well be a date after all! Knowing he was on the verge of hyperventilating, Jim took a long steadying breath. No, not a date. Just an evening with a friend. Who happened to be a woman that he really liked. Big deal. He'd get food and booze for anyone.
"Oh I'm sorry, are you back in ninth grade?"
"Mooooooom!"
"Apparently, you are."
He placed both hands on the island in front of him and exhaled sharply. "You're not helping."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. But what do you want me to say?" she asked carefully. "Whether you think this is a 'date' or not is pretty irrelevant, don't you think? All that matters is Pam is coming over tonight because she wants to. She likes you, Jim and you like her. Don't push her away. No one says anything has to happen right now, so just see what happens."
"Yeah, you're right."
"I'm always right," she teased as she walked around the island and stood next to him. "Now, enjoy yourself. Ellie's already asleep. I bought you some more of that Baby Orajel and put it in the refrigerator along with the Baby Tylenol," she told him as she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.
"I know where everything is kept, Mom. This is my house after all. "Now go." He shooed, pushing her towards the front door.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm going." She grinned as she grabbed her purse and turned around, "Have a nice evening. Behave yourself."
"Mom, I'm a grown man of twenty five, I'm a father for Gods' sakes. You really don't need to tell me to behave myself."
"Yes, honey, but you are still a man."
"Mooooooooooooom!"
"And you wonder why I treat you like you're in High school?"
"Leave. Now." He warned, trying as best he could to sound like he meant it, but he couldn't help the small smile appear on his face.
*****
The doorbell rang and Jim anxiously rubbed his sweaty palms down the front of his pants leg.
"Hey," he grinned as he opened the door and greeted Pam. They'd not socialised outside of work, apart from the odd trip to Poor Richard's, so this was the first time he'd ever seen her in anything other than her work clothes. She wasn't wearing anything particularly special, just a pair of dark blue jeans and a pink t-shirt, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. He snapped out of it quickly, sensing he may start creeping her out if he didn't stop.
"I made this," Pam said as she handed him something oddly shaped wrapped tightly in aluminium foil.
He stood back and motioned her inside with his arm. "Come in. So, what's this then?" he asked curiously, as he brought the item up to his nose and sniffed it. "It smells really good."
"It's garlic bread."
"Woah, you made it yourself?"
She looked over at him bashfully. "It's really not that difficult."
"Yeah, but this is pretty cool. I've never had the homemade stuff before."
"Well don't thank me until you've tried it. It's been awhile since I made some."
He made his way into the kitchen and placed the garlic bread on the counter. "So, can I get you a drink?"
"Sure, what do you have?" she asked, leaning up against the counter. He watched as she looked around his place. As her eyes lingered on the kitchen chairs he suddenly realised that those good manners his mother had drilled into him were obviously not as naturally occurring as he'd have liked. She wasn't going to sit unless he asked her to. He smiled and pulled the refrigerator open and pretended to look around, even though he knew exactly what was inside. "We have some wine - red, white or rose..."
"Nice selection."
He turned to look at her and laughed lightly. "It's a long story. I don't know if I can trust you with that sort of classified information," he teased as he continued to list off the choice of drinks. "Beer, soda, water or milk."
"As appetising as a nice cold glass of milk sounds, I think I'll go for the white wine, is that okay?"
Reaching into the cabinet above Pam's head, he pulled down two wine glasses. He had to try really hard not to lean in and smell her hair. God, she smells good, he thought, shutting the cabinet. He smiled as he turned to face Pam. "That sounds perfect. Oh, and you can sit down... if you want." he told her, embarrassed that he'd not asked her earlier.
They sipped their drinks in silence for a couple of minutes before Jim couldn't take the quiet anymore. "So, where do you want to order from?"
"Oh, I have their number in my phone," she replied excitedly as she flipped open her cell. "I was thinking about this on the way over, and I know you'll love this place! It's called Mama Mia's; it's on Green Ridge, right by the library. Do you know it? The food there is amazing."
"Alright, that sounds good. What pizza do you like?" He didn't really care what they ordered or where they ordered from, but he found it cute that Pam clearly liked this place enough to have it stored in her cell phone.
She bit her lip and bought the phone up to cover her mouth. "Are you going to hate me if I told you I like plain old cheese pizza?"
"That's fine," he laughed at how embarrassed she looked when she admitted this to him. "You can order whatever you want."
"Really? You don't mind?"
"Honestly, it's fine."
"Seriously, you're sure?"
"Oh my God," he chuckled as he grabbed the phone out of her hand. "How about we make a deal. Next time I get to pick what we order, okay? Then we're even." As soon as it left his mouth he realised what he'd said and how presumptuous it must have sounded. They'd not even gotten to dinner yet and he was already assuming they'd be doing this again. He certainly hoped they'd be doing this again.
"Wow, if you keep bossing me around like that, Mister, there won't be a next time," she teased as she dialled the number for the pizza place and handed him the phone. His eyes snapped straight to Pam's. He couldn't help but smile at the slightly mischievous light in her eyes. She was flirting with him and the one word floating around his head as he realised that was 'score.' Just as he was forcing his mouth to re-engage so he could get off the damn phone, she looked up, caught his eyes and grinned right at him. He couldn't help but tune out the pizza guy once more and give her a dopey grin in return. He decided it was a good job that she chose that moment to brush her hair behind her ear. Otherwise they'd have been staring at each other for who knows how long before the moment was broken and he actually got himself together enough to order their food. Maybe this might be a date after all. He wasn't going to argue. Wine, dinner, desert, beautiful woman - check, check, check... oh hell yes, check. This was so a date.
"Okay, so they said they'll be here in about twenty five minutes. How long does the garlic bread take?" he asked as he began poking at the foil.
"It takes about fifteen minutes, so we don't have to put it in yet. Actually, if we put it on a low light until the pizza gets here, that should be fine," she told him as she ran her finger along the rim of the wine glass.
Jim carefully unwrapped the bread and placed it on a baking tray, licking the excess garlic butter off of his fingers. "Mmm, this is going to taste so good, I can feel it."
He set the timer on the oven and topped off their drinks.
"Wanna go sit in the living room? It's more comfortable."
"Sure."
Leading the way, she followed closely behind him, taking her time to look and take in everything around her.
"Okay, this is seriously the cutest picture I have ever seen," she gushed, picking up a framed photo from the side table and sitting next to him on the couch.
He leaned in closer so he could see which picture she was talking about and smiled proudly. "It was her first Halloween. I had to make it special."
"You dressed her up as a..."
"A lion."
She threw her head back and laughed. "Her little mane is so cute! And aww, look at the little paws."
"I know she won't remember it, but I couldn't resist. The costumes were so cute." Smiling warmly, he took the picture from her hands and placed it on the table in front of them, the awkward silence once again overtaking them.
He swallowed a large mouthful of wine before he turned to her. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
Groaning quietly, he ran a hand through his hair. "This - this shouldn't be so awkward."
"I know."
"I'm not usually like this, I promise. It's just... I haven't really done this in a while."
He could see her biting her lip nervously as she hid behind her glass. "What do you mean, this?" she asked softly.
Using his index finger he bashfully moved it between the two of them. "Uh, you know..."
"Not really."
He didn't blame her for making this difficult for him. He was positive that he was sending all sorts of mixed signals. How was she supposed to know what he was thinking if he didn't even know what was going on himself?
"I haven't done the whole dating thing for a while." He saw the corners of her mouth twitch, but he wasn't sure if it was the start of a smile or...
"So, is this a date for you?" she asked casually.
He pulled the neck of his sweater away from his body. Good God, is it me or is it hot in here? "Urm..."
"I think I've made it pretty obvious how I feel about you," she beamed, resting her hand gently on his bouncing knee.
"I, uh."
"Hey, look at me," she insisted, bringing her hand up to his face.
Looking up he attempted to smile. "I really like you- you have no idea." He breathed.
"Yeah?" She replied as she bit her lip nervously before breaking out into a small smile.
"Yeah, it's just - I don't know if I'm ready for this. I want to be ready. I really want to be ready."
"Nothing has to happen right now," she assured him, "but it's nice to know where we both stand, right?"
"Right." He agreed, taking her hand that was resting lightly on his cheek and entwining their fingers. "Nothing has to happen tonight - I mean, I really want it to... really. Like a lot. It's just..."
"Jim, come on, you don't have to explain anything to me. I know all this."
Lightly tapping their joint hands against his knee, he smiled softly, "I know you know, and that's why you're so awesome." He told her, the raw honesty in his voice shocking even himself.
"Thank you."
Panic evident in his voice. "This isn't awkward for you now, is it? Have I already screwed things up?" he laughed nervously.
"No," she promised. Leaning forward and raising her wine glass to her lips.
"Well, just so you know, I have a history of being thoroughly awkward around pretty girls."
Resting her head on the back of the couch, she grinned. "I don't believe you."
"Oh, trust me. I'm not lying about this. Back in Elementary school, I took this girl Jessica that I really liked to the park, so I could impress her with my mad baseball skills," he began, "she was on the softball team so she knew what she was doing. She threw the ball to me and I gave it all I had and hit it - and I ended up hitting her right in the face. I felt really bad, she broke her nose and everything..."
Turning her head towards him, her eyes wide. "Oh my, God. You broke her nose?"
"Yep, she needed surgery and everything."
He could see her trying hard not to laugh, her teeth desperately digging in to her lips. "She must have hated you."
"Yeah, interestingly enough we actually dated for a while in college."
"Aww, see, it wasn't that bad."
"Urm, Pam. I don't know where you've been for the last ten minutes but - broken nose... it really can't get much worse than that. But, do you see my point? I'm totally awkward."
"Well, as long as we don't play any sports for awhile, I think we'll be okay."
They laughed together awkwardly, not so much at what he'd just said, but at the situation they were in. Their eyes met, and suddenly she was bringing her hand up to his face and brushing some stray strands of hair out of his eyes.
He exhaled deeply. "Wow. Do you know how hot you are right now?" he asked her.
Removing her hand from his face and leaning back on the couch, she smiled coyly at him. "No, why don't you tell me?" she whispered, a slight shake to her voice as a deep blush crept up her neck and covered her cheeks.
"Well, aren't you forward, Beesly?" he teased, enjoying watching her squirm.
She quickly brought a hand up to her mouth and gasped, "Oh my, God, I didn't mean it like that."
"I don't know, Pam. You seemed pretty serious when you said it," he teased, thoroughly enjoying embarrassing her. He decided there and then that making her blush was now one of his all time new favourite activities.
Unable to take his eyes off of her, Jim breathed deeply, "You're killing me," he told her seriously. "I may have to get you to sit over there," he teased, grabbing her hand again and pointing to the armchair in the corner of the room. He subconsciously ran his thumb across the backs of her knuckles and watched as she shivered and goose bumps appeared on her arms.
"Yeah? Why? Is Ellie going to wake up, come downstairs all by herself and catch us sitting together on the couch?" she asked him teasingly, as she used her free hand to lightly rake her nails over his wrist.
He sighed, "That feels really good."
Suddenly the doorbell rang, causing them to both pull apart. Jim jumped up and smoothed a hand down his shirt. "Looks like the pizza's here," he blurted out, relieved, and yet slightly disappointed to have been interrupted. "I'll just..." he pointed to the hall as he rushed towards the door.
To Be Continued
******