When she loads the last bag of groceries into her car trunk and closes it, Lena is relieved to have completed that task for the weekend. Across the mall's parking lot, she notices a police cruiser pulling in. She recognizes the car's number. Weeks have past since Lena left Stef standing in the park in the middle of the night alone. She knows she could have handled it better. Lena needs to make it right, she needs to fix it.
Driving her car over, Lena honks at Stef, who is just getting out of the cruiser. Lena calls out from her window, "I want to take you up on your offer to talk."
"Okay," Stef says, caught of guard by Lena's unexpected appearance and request on this weekend afternoon.
"I'm thinking of a coffee shop," Lena suggests, "but somewhere out of this county."
Stef laughs, but she responds, "No."
Lena's startled expression is exactly what Stef is hoping for. Stef walks over to Lena's car and rests her arms on the open window; she looks intently at Lena from the top of her head, down to the gentle curve of her chin. Lena bites her bottom lip and moves a random, loose curl behind her ear.
"Can I… Will you…," Stef starts; she takes a deep breath building up the nerve to continue. "Will you have dinner with me? And please don't tell me you 'gotta go' and step on the gas. You'll run over my feet."
This time Lena laughs.
"Sorry about last Friday," Lena says. "It's just that…I'm really confused. Stef, you're marri – "
Lena looks at Stef's hand; there's no wedding ring.
"I took it off months ago when Brandon's father and I agreed to the separation," Stef says, worry fills her words. "If you accept my invitation, I'll explain everything."
All Lena sees is the sincerity in Stef's eyes and hears the apprehension in her voice. Stef looks both scared and tearful. It's the look of someone about to jump off a cliff. Lena decides to jump with her.
Lena takes a deep breath and says, "Yes, I'll have dinner with you."
They agree to meet at La Boheme, a French restaurant. They had both heard wonderful reviews about the food so they agreed it would be a perfect place to go especially since it was located in the heart of San Diego, a good distance from Public School and the neighborhood that it served.
Stef arrives early, fifteen minutes before the time she told Lena. She planned it that way. She hands her keys to the valet, verifies her reservation "for two" with the maitre d', and asks him to direct her to the ladies room.
In the bright white bathroom light, Stef scrutinizes herself from head to toe in the sprawling vanity mirror that covers three walls. Hair - fortunate to have gotten an appointment with a stylist that afternoon. Make up – not much, just mascara and lip gloss, the one with the light purple hue. Clothes – it's the third outfit she tried on that evening, but the final one out of ten that she finally decided to wear; a slim pair of black dress slacks and a lilac colored silk blouse. Jewelry – a chain with a single pearl which a friend had given her a long time ago. Stef runs her fingers through her hair, inhales deeply, exhales loudly and returns to the maitre d' to show her to her table.
Seated, Stef looks at her watch, "5:58 PM". And in the moment she raises her eyes to look about the room for her guest, what she sees takes her breath away.
The restaurant is lit by candlelight and lit by the magnified reflection of candlelight on the crystal chandeliers and glass decorative fixtures that adorn the surroundings. Glints of light appear to sparkle everywhere. A large mid-wall to ceiling mirror gives the illusion of there being another extension to the restaurant. Candles, light, and patrons reflect from the mirror also. A pianist plays a mellow, syrupy tune as the backdrop to intimate conversation, clinking wine glasses, and entrees being served. And like a newly lit candle which first blinks then flares into existence, Lena walks into the room.
Oblivious of the maitre d' leading Lena, Stef only sees an angelic being in a cream colored dress made of the lightest, most airy fabric Stef has ever seen and patterned with the multi-colors of autumn foliage. Lena's hair is swept up the way Stef likes it, the style that shows off Lena's best features. She could have been a graceful fawn that one would unexpectedly come upon on a walk through a forest at dusk. She is the epitome of elegance.
Stef is suddenly nervous; her breaths come faster, on the verge of hyperventilating. She shifts uneasily in her chair. In mere seconds, her face expression shifts from awe, to worry, to fear and back again. What am I doing? Stef thinks. She's way out of my league. She takes a sip of wine before she stands to greet Lena.
They touch hands, not a formal shake, but an acknowledgement of their excitement to finally be there together. Neither of them knows what all this means, but it feels right, like it should be. Without a doubt, like it should be, Stefanie comforts herself.
They sit and Lena orders wine. "Whatever she's having," she says to the waiter all the while maintaining her eye contact with Stef.
When the waiter leaves, Lena leans forward and says to Stef, "You look amazing."
Stef blushes unable to bear the compliment coming from the perfect lips of this beautiful woman across from her.
"I'm so happy you're here," Stef manages to say.
"Me too," Lena responds. Now it's Lena's turn to blush. "The kids asked me an interesting question today. You'll like this. They asked why the police officer always comes by our classroom."
"Should I be less obvious?" Stef asks.
Lena laughs and says, "Nothing gets past them."
"The other day, Brandon saw a pregnant woman and asked me why her belly was so big," Stef says. "I told him because there was a baby inside. He thought about it for a minute then asked, 'Why did she eat her baby?'"
Lena laughs and asks, "Did you give him the 'birds-and-bees' talk?"
"Are you kidding? I wasn't ready for that. I told him that babies start growing from inside a mom's belly; they're not eaten," Stef answers. "I'll save 'the talk' for another year or two from now. So how did you answer their question about 'the police officer visits'?"
"By redirecting it," Lena answers. "That's how I was trained to answer all personal questions children ask me. 'Why do you think the police officer visits?' I asked them. They came up with the most creative answers like, 'to change the light bulb' or 'to make sure everyone's safe'. Then before you know it they're so involved with their own discussion, they forget why they asked in the first place."
"I like that. I should use that technique at work."
"With suspects?" Lena asks.
"No, with the guys in my precinct," Stef answers, "I need to get them off my back sometimes. Our unit is a little too close knit."
"I fortunately don't have to deal with that…yet," Lena says, reaching for the bottle of sparkling water on their table. "Being new, everyone at the school is still pretty polite to me and respectfully keeps their distance. I'm only privy to –"
Stef reaches for the bottle of water at the same time; their fingers touch and remain still. With an almost imperceptible movement, they instinctively shift their fingers so that they now intertwine around the bottle. The bottle's cool condensation tempers the intensity of their contact.
"I don't know wh - ," Stef says with urgency.
"Are you ready to order, Mesdames?" a waiter asks, appearing from no where.