Summer at Fraser’s Mill

A Night Out

A t nine P.M., Grace emailed Lucas back saying yes, she’d like to have dinner with him sometime.

Less than ten minutes later, Lucas replied, saying that was fantastic. He was looking forward to it. Would this Saturday evening at six work? He knew a good seafood restaurant, unless she was allergic to shellfish.

Grace wasn’t allergic to shellfish, and Saturday happened to be her least busy evening. She told Lucas that would be great, and she would meet him at the restaurant at six. It would be nice to get out of the apartment and go on an outing for once.

Lucas thanked her enthusiastically and asked for her phone number in case they needed to communicate on Saturday. Grace sent him the number.

This could be really good. Grace’s family and friends were always asking why she hadn’t found a young man yet. Back in Fraser’s Mill, people had often tried to set her up with this guy or that guy, but it hadn’t worked out. Most of the young men in Grace’s hometown didn’t share the academic interests that were important to her. Since leaving the small town, Grace had been too busy to date much. At last, she was going out with a guy with whom she probably had a lot in common.

§

Saturday afternoon found Grace in her room agonizing over what to wear. Picking a first date outfit was always complicated.

Grace assessed her closet. Her yellow flowered dress, a favorite, hung in front. No good. If this date didn’t go well, she would remember it every time she wore the dress. Red dress? Too Valentiney. She didn’t want to appear like she was throwing herself at Lucas. She wanted to dress nicely, but not too nicely, and she wanted to wear something she wore frequently, so she wouldn’t have a weird memory attached to that outfit afterwards.

She finally picked out an outfit she wore at school: a cream-colored blouse with yellow polka dots, a black pencil skirt, and heels, with a pair of sandals in her bag for backup. Maybe they would go to the beach after the restaurant. She could just smell the tangy ocean air now.

She fussed over her hair. Should she put it up? Her curls weren’t behaving well—one section above her left ear stuck out. She ended up pulling her hair into a bun, pinning the offending section back. Good thing they made bobby pins that matched blonde hair.

The restaurant was half an hour away, close to the ocean. Grace made sure to leave early. At this time of day—especially on a Saturday—the L.A. traffic tended to be at its worst.

She arrived at the restaurant at five minutes to six and sat in the car to wait, reapplying her lip balm. Her stomach felt odd, and her hands were tingling as though she’d had too much caffeine. It was ridiculous to feel this nervous. It wasn’t a blind date or anything. She had talked to Lucas before. He was a nice guy. There was nothing to be apprehensive about.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Lucas.

“I’ve found us a table inside. See you soon!”

Grace put away her phone, made sure her car keys were in her hand so she wouldn’t lock them in the car, and checked her hair. She was ready.

Going from the sunny parking lot to the dim restaurant, Grace squinted to see. She never could understand why restaurants kept the lights so low.

She went up to the hostess. “Hi,” she said. “I’m here with someone—”

“Are you Grace?” the woman asked. “Your table’s over there.”

Lucas must have described her to the waitress. What must he have said? Self-conscious, Grace looked in the direction the woman had motioned. Lucas was sitting in a booth. He waved.

Grace slid into her side of the booth. “Hi, Lucas.”

“Grace!” Lucas was all smiles. He had a menu and a drink in front of him. He must have been here a while. “How are you?”

Jittery, but she wasn’t going to say that. She put her purse down beside her. “I’m doing very well. How are you?”

“Great, now that you’re here.” Lucas winked broadly. “I’ve ordered us an appetizer—Miyagi oysters with champagne mignonette.”

“Oh, thanks.” When Grace had agreed to go to a seafood restaurant, she’d been thinking of shrimp pasta or lobster ravioli. The thought of oysters didn’t sit well with her stomach. Also, that sounded expensive. Was Lucas paying for this, or were they going halves? Either way, she hoped it wasn’t too much money.

A waitress appeared. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked.

“Water, please,” Grace said. “Thank you.”

The waitress disappeared, and Grace and Lucas were alone again. Grace’s stomach still felt odd and jittery, and all the conversational topics she had thought of beforehand had vanished.

As usual, Lucas wore a suit. Grace couldn’t recall ever seeing him without one. His tie had spaceships on it. He must be a fan of sci-fi movies.

“So how’s your English teaching going?” Lucas asked.

Thank goodness—that was an easy topic to talk about. Grace launched into an explanation of the novel study she was doing with her sixth graders. Lucas listened and nodded, asking occasional questions.

The waitress returned with Grace’s water and a large platter of oysters on ice. A bowl of suspicious-looking pink sauce with small white things in it stood in the middle of the oysters.

The oysters were bigger than Grace had expected. Maybe she had been imagining clams.

“Shall we say grace?” Lucas asked.

He launched into the prayer. Grace joined him slightly late. It was difficult to be grateful for this particular food, but she would be grateful for whatever entrée she ordered.

Lucas handed her a plate. Grace put an oyster on it. How did one eat these things? She unwrapped the napkin from her silverware and spread it in her lap.

Lucas was already eating his first oyster, which he doused in the pink sauce before loosening it from the shell with his fork. Grace thought she’d leave the sauce for a moment. She wrangled her own oyster out of the shell and put it in her mouth.

“So tell me,” Lucas said, wiping his mouth on his napkin, “what’s your strategy for not getting bored, teaching children’s books all the time?”

The question was inconveniently timed. Grace was trying to convince herself to swallow the oyster. It felt soft and chewy, and she knew now that she didn’t like the taste. Besides, Lucas’s question was loaded.

“Mm.” Grace swallowed hard. “Personally, I don’t think things like Tom Sawyer and Anne of Green Gables are boring. I mean, they’re not college-level reading, but that doesn’t mean they’re just for kids.”

“Ah.” Lucas’s brow furrowed. “I admit I haven’t read those in a long time. I suppose you could find themes in those stories that are pertinent for adults as well.”

Pertinent for adults? What kinds of books did Lucas read?

“Absolutely,” Grace said. “The characters in those stories are incredibly well-written, and the settings are really well done. There’s a reason Mark Twain and L.M. Montgomery are such famous authors.”

Lucas put sauce on another oyster. “I don’t read a lot of American novelists. I’m more of a Tolstoy and Dostoevsky man myself. Those Russian authors had such a depth of understanding of the human condition.”

Lucas wasn’t even an English major. Was he seriously dismissing all the great American novelists in one breath? Grace fished in her brain for a coherent reply, but the waitress reappeared with a change of subject.

“Ready to order?” She tapped her pen on her notepad.

Grace hadn’t even looked at the menu. “I think—”

“Give us a minute, please?” Lucas interrupted.

The waitress returned the notepad to her pocket. “No problem.”

“I know what you ought to try,” Lucas said, before the waitress had even left. “They have an incredible grilled whole branzino.”

“Branzino?” Grace tried to find it on her menu.

Branzino headed the fish section. Grace liked fish, but she had the idea that “whole” meant the fish came with the head and tail attached. She didn’t know if she could face that, especially after the oysters.

“It comes with a roasted butternut squash salad,” Lucas said. “Otherwise, I’d recommend the sauteéd veal piccata.”

No. No fish with head and tail. No veal. Maybe Grace’s taste in food wasn’t highbrow enough to match Lucas’s.

“Thanks,” Grace said. “But I guess I’m not the most adventurous eater. I’m going to get pasta.” The menu had only two pastas, penne with cream pesto and linguine with clam sauce. No shrimp pasta, no lobster ravioli. Clam sauce might be all right. “I think I’ll go with the linguine.”

“Oh!” Lucas raised his eyebrows. “That’ll probably be good too. This place does a great job with everything.”

He sounded like someone who ate there every week. Judging by the prices on the menu, it would be tough to afford that on a teacher’s salary.

When the waitress came back, Grace ordered her selection, and Lucas ordered the grilled whole branzino.

That was settled. Grace could relax.

“Want more oysters?” Lucas asked, moving the platter closer to Grace. “There are plenty left.”

She took a deep breath and said what she should have said in the first place. “I’m sorry, Lucas, but I’m afraid oysters aren’t my thing. I never had them before, and I think they take some getting used to.”

“Oh, of course. If I’d known, I would have gotten a different appetizer.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that. It didn’t occur to me you might not have had oysters before.”

Grace shook her head, smiling wryly. “I guess I haven’t been to a lot of seafood restaurants.”

Maybe Lucas was all right, after all, even with his different tastes in books and food. If he asked her, she might be interested in going on a second date. She wasn’t sure.

“So tell me,” Lucas said, “what kinds of things do you like to do when you’re not at school?”

What did she like to do in her free time? Everything that came to mind seemed boring.

“Well, I go running,” she said. “I like reading—I guess that’s pretty obvious. And I like old movies and TV shows. Especially Westerns. I’ve seen a lot of Bonanza and The Virginian .”

“I don’t think I’ve seen either of those. I haven’t seen a lot of westerns, now that I think about it. What is it you like about them?”

“Well, I grew up watching them, so they feel kind of nostalgic.” Why couldn’t she think of a better answer? That wasn’t the only reason she liked westerns.

Lucas nodded. “I know what you mean. I feel the same way about Star Wars .”

That was what was on his tie—Han Solo’s spaceship. Grace should have recognized it. She’d seen the Star Wars movies years ago with her brother, but apparently she didn’t remember them well.

Grace rubbed the back of her neck. She and Lucas had to have something in common besides work. She was determined to find it.

“So what do you like to do in your free time?” she asked Lucas.

Lucas confessed he wasn’t much of an outdoorsman, but he did like frisbee. A group of his friends often played ultimate frisbee in local parks, and he mentioned Grace should join them sometime. Growing up in San Francisco, he had also done acting, which Grace found interesting, coming from a small town with no theater. Lucas had traveled a lot, too—he’d been to most European countries and even to Japan.

Grace struggled to get a word in. But Lucas did have interesting things to say. Besides, Grace couldn’t compete with his travel stories. She’d never been outside the contiguous United States.

The food came. Grace enjoyed her linguine with clam sauce and tried not to look at Lucas’s fish, which did come with the head and tail.

Grace was still looking for something she and Lucas had in common. “Have you read The Lord of the Rings ?” she asked.

“Sure,” Lucas said. “Several times, when I was a kid. I liked the movies, too.”

“Me too!” Grace smiled. “If I had to pick a favorite story, that would be right near the top of the list. When I was little, I couldn’t wait until my parents said I was old enough to read it.”

Wonderful—they had a substantial common interest. Grace could talk about The Lord of the Rings all day. She’d happily go on a second date with Lucas if The Lord of the Rings was their conversational topic.

“Now, as an adult,” Lucas said, “I prefer the Silmarillion . It’s Tolkien’s magnum opus. The Lord of the Rings only scratched the surface of the worldbuilding he was doing. Once you’ve read the Silmarillion, the Ring Trilogy reads like a kid’s story.”

Grace’s smile faded. Even when it came to her favorite books, Lucas’s taste was more highbrow than hers. “I read it once,” she said. “I had a hard time keeping all the people and events straight. If I ever went through it again, I think I’d want to take notes.”

Lucas nodded. “It takes patience and attention to be able to appreciate it. Re-read it, and you’ll see what I mean. I think you’ll find it quite rewarding.”

The check came, and Lucas said, “I’ve got it,” before the waitress had even set it down.

“I could pay for mine,” Grace said.

Lucas shook his head. “No, let me.”

“You’re sure?” Grace asked. That bill had to be a lot.

“Of course. I insist.”

“Well, thank you.”

Lucas paid the bill, the waitress brought back his card and receipt, and he didn’t make a move to go. He was telling about the high school history he taught, which Grace had no doubt was excellent, but it was getting late.

“Well,” she said, when she could get a word in, “I should probably get going. I have a bunch of things I have to do.”

“Of course.” Lucas got up. “Let me walk you to your car.”

Grace felt a pang of embarrassment at the sight of her car’s numerous rust spots, which bore testament to Michigan’s road salt. But Lucas didn’t seem to notice it.

“Whenever I park in a strange parking lot,” he said, “I’m always relieved when my catalytic converter hasn’t been stolen. There’s been a rash of catalytic converter thefts around here lately. I’m glad my apartment complex has gated access.”

“Oh, wow,” Grace said. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

Her apartment complex didn’t have gated access. That sounded expensive. She always parked her car in an outdoor lot. Hopefully those thieves would be caught soon.

They stood next to the car, Grace holding her keys.

“Well, thank you, Lucas,” Grace said. “This was really nice of you.”

Lucas smiled broadly. “Thank you,” he said. “What a great evening. Let’s do it again soon.”

Do it again? There had been at least one point during the evening when Grace would have been inclined to say yes. But a nagging feeling inside gave her pause.

“That sounds nice—uh, let me think about it, and I’ll let you know. Is that okay?”

Could she have said anything more awkward? She hoped she wasn’t wincing outwardly.

Lucas wasn’t taken aback. “Sounds great,” he said. “You’re an incredible girl, Grace. I’m glad we happened to run into each other the other day. You and I have a lot in common.”

“Maybe so.” Grace smiled.

He was still standing there.

“Well, I’d better get going,” Grace said. “See you Monday.” She held out her hand as Lucas went in for a hug, and their shoulders collided. “Whoops, sorry.”

Lucas laughed. “Awkward. Well, have a good night. See you on Monday.”

He was still standing there as she pulled out of the parking lot.