Our waitress came over then, and we ordered. I asked Laura if she’d like some wine, and she said she would but not on a school night, since it tended to make her sleepy, and she had work to do. We both ordered iced tea, instead.
Leaning back, Laura looked across at me and said, “So, Jeremy. Angie says you two have known each other since kindergarten, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “It was love at first sight, at least on her part.”
“Really? She also told me that she used to, let’s see, how did she phrase it, regularly beat the crap out of you in third grade.”
“I had a cold that day,” I said.
“She seemed to imply that this went on pretty much that whole year.”
“It was one of those lingering colds,” I said. “And, anyway, girls mature earlier than boys. That’s an established medical fact. All your best doctors believe it. You can look it up.”
Laura laughed out loud at that. It wasn’t one of those raucous laughs, but a soft, pleasant noise, and I felt good that I’d been the cause of such a wonderful sound. Our waitress arrived with our iced teas, and there was silence for a minute while we both took a few sips.
“Let me ask you a question?” I said.
“Sure.”
“What’s with you and old man Grim? Angie said word is he made a pass at you.”
Again, I got the laugh. I was on a roll here.
“Oh,” said Laura, “that was so embarrassing for poor Mr. Grim. The man must be in his late sixties, at least. Somebody told me that he has more time in the system than any other teacher in the city. All that happened is that we discovered a common interest in flowers, and one day he asked me if I’d like to go over to his place and look at his petunia. He was talking about a special flower that he’d been growing for a show. It was all completely innocent, but he happened to make the request in the faculty room at lunchtime, in front of half the staff. You can imagine the varied interpretations that made the rounds the rest of that day.”
“Petunia, huh?” I said. “I’ve never heard it called that before.”
“See what I mean?” she asked. “You can’t resist it, can you?”
Our dinners arrived, and for a few minutes, we both got serious about eating. The silence between us was one of those comfortable spaces, not the awkward variety. Laura was the first to break it.
“When you decided to leave teaching, did you consider another level, maybe middle school instead of the older kids?”
“Oh, God, no,” I said. “I have a friend who taught middle school for several years, and he described that age group as being ‘all hands and glands.’”
“That’s a great description,” she agreed. “One of the teachers at Fairview is married to a woman who teaches at Miller Middle School, over on the North Side. Sam says his wife believes she has the perfect solution to those difficult middle school years. Evelyn says that the day they graduate from elementary school, the kids should be put on a bus and driven around the city for three years and then dropped off at a high school.”
“I love it,” I said.
Our conversation went like that the rest of the meal. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so comfortable just sitting and talking with any woman other than Angie. Finally, after what seemed like just minutes, the waitress came over to clear our plates. She asked if we’d like dessert.
“None for me,” said Laura, “but if you’d like some, Jeremy, I’d be glad to wait.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll pass, too.”
The waitress gave me the check, and I gave her some money and she gave me my change right there at the table. I’d forgotten that the wait staff at Silvio’s carried those little silver change-makers, so they could take care of the check at tableside. When she left, Laura and I sat for another minute or two.
“I was serious, Jeremy,” she said. “I’d have been glad to sit with you while you ate dessert. It’s just that I usually don’t have dessert during the week.” Then, with a little laugh, she added, “Of course, the weekend is another matter altogether.”
“I’m pretty much the same way,” I told her. “As I get older, I find that it gets harder to keep in shape.”
“Oh, wait,” Laura said, with a smile. “I know what comes next. This is the part where each of us compliments the other on being in such great shape and looking so good, right?”
“Works for me,” I said.
“Meanwhile,” she said, “as much fun as I’m having, I have to get going.”
I walked her out to her car, which was in the parking lot beside the restaurant, just a few spaces down from mine.
“This was fun, Jeremy,” she said, as she opened the door to the Malibu. “Thanks for asking me. I don’t usually do something like this on a school night, but I’m glad I did today.”
“I’m glad you did, too,” I said. “And speaking of asking you things, how about getting together this Saturday? I know it’s Easter weekend, so I’ll understand if you already have some plans.”
“No, I don’t,” she said, “and I’d love to get together again. What do you have in mind?”
“Give me a day or two, okay?” I asked. “I’ll call you around the middle of the week with a couple of suggestions.”
“A man of mystery, huh?” she said. “That sounds very interesting. I can’t wait to hear from you.”
She got into her car and put the window down.
“Thanks again, Jeremy.”
“My pleasure, Ms. Fleming,” I replied. “Oh, and by the way, whatever we end up doing, I can assure you that there will definitely be dessert
