It takes him ages to ask her out. Not because he's shy, mind you. He's never been shy. It has more to do with all that has kept him from doing so, what with the divorce, the fall, the engagement and the breakup. He's had a few bad breakups before, the worst of them being the divorce. Naturally, he's quite well aware that time to heal is necessary. He waits a few weeks before asking her if she'd like to have dinner with him.
Wednesday, August 13th, five o'clock after her work shift, to be precise.
"Molly," he says. "I was just wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me some time?"
Her eyes widen. She looks like a flustered teenager who's just been asked to a school formal by the most popular boy in her year.
"Dinner?"
"Yeah…well, if you want to, that is."
"Greg, I'd love to!"
They agree to a nice Italian place on a Friday night at eight, where they learn more about one another over a shared bottle of wine, a quail and pesto risotto, a chicken and vegetable alfredo and two lavender crème brûlées. It becomes easier to talk to each other when work is left out the door. He learns that she likes knitting, cats and old movies. She learns that he likes cooking, monkeys and punk music. She admires his wit and he her intellect.
Neither of them will admit it, but they see something good coming out of this. Greg is so different from Jim, Tom or anyone else she's been with and Molly is nothing like Carol or any past girlfriend who broke his heart.
Agreeing to take things slowly, they part at the door of her flat with a chaste but warm kiss on the cheek.