Even as anxiety took hold, she shook her head. How many times hadMel run late or not come home for dinner at all? Every time, Amanda’s worryfought with her anger. So much so that even when she laid into Mel about it,relief tempered her wrath and she would be quick to back down. She didn’t wantto feel that wrath anymore, or that relief. And she wouldn’t.
She slipped into the steaming, sudsy water and let the tensionmelt away. Whether it was the bath or her decision, she didn’t know. Eitherway, the certainty of it felt good. Yes, it had been fun. She just didn’t wantto do it anymore.
* * *
Without being obvious, Quinn had continued to steal glances atAmanda while her date perused the wine list. They’d no sooner settled on alocal dry Riesling than she saw Amanda pay her tab and leave. What was thatabout? She was pretty sure Amanda hadn’t eaten. Even if her friend canceled,why wouldn’t she have dinner since she was already there?
She tried to convince herself the curiosity was more friendlyconcern than romantic interest, especially since she was here on a date. Evenif it was a date she’d been hesitant to agree to in the first place. “So, howdo you know Kiera again?”
“Yoga.”
Right. The goat kind. “How did you get into that?”
They chatted about exercise, ordered wine. Over dinner,conversation hit the expected first date high points—hometowns and family treesand the best parts of upstate New York in the summer. Lisa was beautiful andcharming and easy to talk to. But like so many of the women Quinn had beenfixed up with in the last year, that was the end of it. No spark, no cravingfor more.
Maybe it was her. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe she’d never beready.
When they finished eating, Quinn insisted on paying the check. Inpart, she was old school and preferred to when her date didn’t mind. Really,though, it made her feel less guilty about not having her head, or her heart,in the game.
On the drive back to Lisa’s apartment, conversation lulled. Itfelt like more of a comfortable silence than an awkward one. That might havebeen more wishful thinking than reality, but the jazz on the radio was nice andLisa had mentioned liking Nina Simone.
It didn’t take long for her thoughts to drift to Amanda.
It felt skeevy to be thinking about Amanda while driving anotherwoman home from dinner. They weren’t sexual thoughts, though, so it could beworse. Not that she hadn’t had her share of sexual thoughts about Amanda sincethey’d met. But tonight was different. There was something in Amanda’s eyes shehadn’t seen before: vulnerability. Despite the casual conversation, it leftQuinn longing to swoop in and rescue her. From what, she had no idea, butsomething about it triggered all her protective instincts.
She did her best to shake it off, and not only because her datewas speaking. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I said you seemed distracted.”
Quinn chuckled. “I think you’re right, although I swear it isn’tthe present company.”
“I don’t take it personally. It’s the tricky thing about fix-ups,isn’t it?”
By all accounts, Lisa was a lovely woman: smart, attractive,funny. But she was thirty-five, close to fifteen years Quinn’s junior and Quinncouldn’t help but feel like a dinosaur around her. Lisa hadn’t articulated itin those words, but Quinn got the sense the feeling was mutual. Or, at the veryleast, they were looking for different things. “People mean well, though,right?”
Lisa laughed, a true and lovely laugh. “Yes. But they’re so badat it.”
Quinn chuckled. It was a relief to be on the same page. She’dgone into this whole dating process so worried she’d fall for someone whowasn’t interested in her. It hadn’t occurred to her the opposite might happen.Not fall for her full on, but have interest she didn’t reciprocate. Lettingpeople down gently was now officially her least favorite thing.
Lisa reached across the console and rested a hand on hers. “Oh,God. I didn’t go too far, did I? I do think you’re fantastic.”
Quinn pulled up to a light and looked at Lisa. “No, no. You’refantastic, too. But not for me. I’m starting to think maybe I’m not ready to bedating after all.”
Lisa offered her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay if you aren’t.”
Quinn let out a sigh and realized how much tension she’d beenholding. “And you deserve to find someone who is exactly what you want and whowants the same things as you.”
“We should give our friends a good stern talking-to, shouldn’twe?”
Quinn laughed in earnest then. “Agreed. Knowing two women whoboth happen to be single and lesbian should not be the sole criteria formatchmaking.”
“Well, we’re smart, too. And charming. It’s not a total leap.Even if we’re in very different places in our lives.”
A thought occurred to Quinn and she cringed. “You didn’t feelpressured to go out with me, did you?”
“It was Kiera. Of course I felt pressured.”
She should leave it at that. After all, she’d felt pressured,too. Kiera could be very persistent. But as much as she feared the answer, sheneeded to know. “I meant me specifically.”
God, she sounded so pathetic.
“You’re nobody’s pity date, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Relief lost ground to the embarrassment of asking in the firstplace. “I’m not sure if I should thank you or apologize.”
“Neither.”
She pulled into the lot of Lisa’s building. “Thanks.”
Lisa unbuckled her seat belt and shifted to face Quinn. “Thankyou for dinner.”
“Thank you for such lovely company.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around at yoga sometime.”
If she got nothing else out of this date, she could pick up a fewpointers on being gracious when it became clear a second date wouldn’t be inthe cards. There were worse consolation prizes. “I’m sure we will.”
Lisa made to get out of the car. Quinn did the same, more out ofhabit than anything else, but Lisa waved her off. “I hope you find what you’relooking for.”
How classy. Quinn smiled. “You, too.”
She waited until Lisa was inside, then backed her car out andheaded home. Lisa’s parting words played in her mind. Maybe her problem wasn’tthat her sisters and
