still a looker at forty-one, at least according to Shawna.
We shared pleasant conversation over a delicious meal for the next two hours, the flirting kept at a minimal level as we eased through first date blunders. Our conversation huddled around easy topics of discussion: the weather, the Titans’ chances for the next Super Bowl, the sweet yet messy ribs in front of us. Jacob’s laugh was easy and light, his comments polite and not filled with underlying sexual innuendoes, which was a welcome change from my other interactions with men.
We each excused ourselves once during the date to retreat to the bathroom. When I took my turn, I used the time to send a quick text to Shawna and asked if she would please contact Sam and ask him to call the deputy dogs off. The place was packed with familiar faces and I felt like a fish in a bowl while Jacob and I ate. When it was Jacob’s turn to use the facilities, while I sipped the cool iced tea, I wondered if he was texting someone too since he was gone longer than I had been.
When the evening drew to a close and Jacob asked if I wanted to go walk around town, I saw a hint of sadness when my response to his question was in the negative. Like the gentlemen I had come to know online, he walked me to my car and our evening ended with an awkward yet tender brush of his heated lips against my cool ones. The bland kiss was followed by hushed promises from him in my ear to meet again. With a disinterested glance, I watched him saunter back to his truck.
The cool leather seat of my car embraced my warm body, and I settled in for the drive home, filled with a rush of emotions that battled for control. Could I, should I, let my life be controlled by my lonely heart? That game had already been played and I lost my ass right along with my heart. Scott and I had been high school sweethearts and married the summer after graduation. I went to nursing school first; then supported us financially while he went to med school. Unable to bear children, our lives centered around our home, our friends, and various charities. Apparently that wasn’t enough for Scott because he discovered a new hobby in our fifteenth year of marital bliss…bed hopping.
After two years of painful counseling and shattered promises to remain faithful, I had had enough. I had been devastated, my spirit crushed. It took two years after our divorce for me to stop mentally castrating every male who came within ten feet of me and another one for my verbal assaults to end. My nasty attitude was quickly given a nickname by one cop after a thorough dressing down, and it spread like wildfire in a parched forest…“Maneater Mandy.”
I didn’t want to be a bitter woman any longer. I wanted to find someone to share my life with. A man who treated me as a partner, a best friend, a confidante… to walk through life holding hands and facing all the ups and down together as a united front. I wanted someone to sit on the porch with and admire the simple beauty of a sunrise or sunset in quiet awe. What my heart ached for was a gentle lover and a friend that tears and smiles could be shown to without fear of reprieve for being overly emotional.
While driving, I came to the conclusion that I could release my tight grip around my heart to love again…just not with Jacob Wilson. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the exact reason, but the small poke in my gut told me he wasn’t the one. Funny how online chemistry can be so deceptive because there were no real sparks flying between the two of us. I had been like a kid at the fireworks stand—all excited about the rocket purchased in hopes of seeing a vivid explosion of colors, but deflated when it fizzled out as a dud.
I called Shawna and my mother and told them I was on my way home. Shawna seemed shocked that I called her so early, a hint of disappointment in her voice at the date being over so soon. She begged me to divulge all the gossip, but I told her I would spill it when I
We shared pleasant conversation over a delicious meal for the next two hours, the flirting kept at a minimal level as we eased through first date blunders. Our conversation huddled around easy topics of discussion: the weather, the Titans’ chances for the next Super Bowl, the sweet yet messy ribs in front of us. Jacob’s laugh was easy and light, his comments polite and not filled with underlying sexual innuendoes, which was a welcome change from my other interactions with men.
We each excused ourselves once during the date to retreat to the bathroom. When I took my turn, I used the time to send a quick text to Shawna and asked if she would please contact Sam and ask him to call the deputy dogs off. The place was packed with familiar faces and I felt like a fish in a bowl while Jacob and I ate. When it was Jacob’s turn to use the facilities, while I sipped the cool iced tea, I wondered if he was texting someone too since he was gone longer than I had been.
When the evening drew to a close and Jacob asked if I wanted to go walk around town, I saw a hint of sadness when my response to his question was in the negative. Like the gentlemen I had come to know online, he walked me to my car and our evening ended with an awkward yet tender brush of his heated lips against my cool ones. The bland kiss was followed by hushed promises from him in my ear to meet again. With a disinterested glance, I watched him saunter back to his truck.
The cool leather seat of my car embraced my warm body, and I settled in for the drive home, filled with a rush of emotions that battled for control. Could I, should I, let my life be controlled by my lonely heart? That game had already been played and I lost my ass right along with my heart. Scott and I had been high school sweethearts and married the summer after graduation. I went to nursing school first; then supported us financially while he went to med school. Unable to bear children, our lives centered around our home, our friends, and various charities. Apparently that wasn’t enough for Scott because he discovered a new hobby in our fifteenth year of marital bliss…bed hopping.
After two years of painful counseling and shattered promises to remain faithful, I had had enough. I had been devastated, my spirit crushed. It took two years after our divorce for me to stop mentally castrating every male who came within ten feet of me and another one for my verbal assaults to end. My nasty attitude was quickly given a nickname by one cop after a thorough dressing down, and it spread like wildfire in a parched forest…“Maneater Mandy.”
I didn’t want to be a bitter woman any longer. I wanted to find someone to share my life with. A man who treated me as a partner, a best friend, a confidante… to walk through life holding hands and facing all the ups and down together as a united front. I wanted someone to sit on the porch with and admire the simple beauty of a sunrise or sunset in quiet awe. What my heart ached for was a gentle lover and a friend that tears and smiles could be shown to without fear of reprieve for being overly emotional.
While driving, I came to the conclusion that I could release my tight grip around my heart to love again…just not with Jacob Wilson. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the exact reason, but the small poke in my gut told me he wasn’t the one. Funny how online chemistry can be so deceptive because there were no real sparks flying between the two of us. I had been like a kid at the fireworks stand—all excited about the rocket purchased in hopes of seeing a vivid explosion of colors, but deflated when it fizzled out as a dud.
I called Shawna and my mother and told them I was on my way home. Shawna seemed shocked that I called her so early, a hint of disappointment in her voice at the date being over so soon. She begged me to divulge all the gossip, but I told her I would spill it when I
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