Chapter 23
Ben and I haven’t seen each other except in passing since I hosted breakfast, but we have stayed in touch by texting.
He had a little family getaway to go camping, so he was out of town for a few days.
Then, I got busy with work and had to pull some all-dayers.
We have plans to spend time together Friday night.
He had to get back to work, but his girls stayed camping with his family.
This arrangement seems like a much easier way to spend time together, although it does add pressure to make the most of our kid-free time.
It doesn’t help that, as soon as he got past his embarrassment, he started sending me some scandalous texts throughout the week.
More than once, I peeked through my curtains at his house, contemplating a surprise visit.
I really needed to buckle down and get some work done this week, though, so I resisted the temptation.
The anticipation is high. The tension is even higher.
Grass Daddy: Hey, Toots.
Me: Toots? Are you calling me farts? Fair enough, but you will not like your nickname if this sticks.
Grass Daddy: What? No! Toots! Like Tootsie?
Me: Ohhh. God, how old are you? This feels like the pet name of a 90-year-old man. I need to see your ID. I’m running away if you start calling me your little whippersnapper.
Grass Daddy: I didn’t lie about my age. And stop the hate; it's a cute nickname. Best used for someone who is cute, fun, charming, sweet, sexy, those legs… Wait, if I called you a fart nickname, what would mine be?
Me: Without having much time to think? Sweatstain.
Grass Daddy: WOW. You flatter me, Toots. I spent some time coming up with this perfectly suited pet name, and I expect you to enjoy it. Dress up fancier than lounge clothes tonight. Nothing crazy, but I’m taking you out on a real date.
Me: You are? You don’t have to.
Grass Daddy: I want to! My opportunities to leave home with no children are few and far between.
I NEED TO LIVE. These girls are sucking me dry of my manhood.
I spend a lot of time wearing makeup for someone who isn’t super interested in makeup.
Plus, I need to woo you so you’ll let me take your clothes off tonight.
Me: What if I’m not in the mood?
Grass Daddy: You will be. ??
Me: So confident. Ok, just don’t make me go clubbing.
Grass Daddy: Toots.
Me: What?
Grass Daddy: Don’t make me go clubbing. I’m way too old for that shit. And my AARP newsletter never sends coupons for clubs. We’re going out for the early bird special and home, in bed, by 9 p.m. ?????? Is that enough winky faces to catch my drift? Be ready at 7.
At 6:50 p.m., my doorbell rings. I had a lot of nervous energy today, which led me to be ready to go on time.
Everything is shaved and moisturized. Since we never discussed logistics, I assumed I would just walk over to his house at 7:00.
At my age, I’m not wearing a matching thong and bra set.
I did opt for my black strapless bra, instead of the flesh-toned one, and picked my sexiest pair of full booty coverage underwear.
Normally, I would wear compression underwear under a dress, but that shit is way too embarrassing to remove in front of someone you don’t know very well.
Meaning, I will have some chub rub to contend with tonight.
When I open the door, Ben is standing there to pick me up for our date.
His car is in my driveway, which makes me chuckle that he drove it twenty feet to my house.
He has a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a megawatt smile on his face.
He looks nice. Handsome and maybe on the edge of sexy.
He has on a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark jeans, and nice shoes.
I typically see him in his “Dad Uniform,” and I was curious what he would look like for a date.
I picked out a long summer dress, and I appreciate not feeling underdressed.
Ben hands me the flowers and then leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “You look beautiful, Toots.”
I can feel my cheeks blush. It is a cute nickname that didn’t translate well into texting.
“Thanks. I didn’t want to dress up too much because I figured you would be in your normal uniform of athletic pants and beer shirts.
Boy, was I wrong. You clean up nicely. Would definitely feel bad calling you sweatstain for a pet name. ”
“This is about as good as it gets. I don’t have a stylist.” He lifts his arm for an inspection. “No sweat stains today. Are you ready?”
I set the flowers down on my entry table to deal with later and grabbed my purse.
Feeling a little nervous because I have no idea what he has planned, I nod and step out the door.
Being the most chivalrous, he walks over to his car and opens the door for me to get in.
Once we are both settled in the car, I ask, “What’s the plan? Since clubbing is out.”
“Nothing too exciting, just a dinner. You want to pick out some music?”
“I’m okay just chatting on the way there. I kind of missed you?” I replied with a question in my voice. I’m not sure if that’s an overshare.
He grins at me and reaches over to grab my hand. He plants a kiss on my hand and says, “I kind of missed you, too.”
On the way to the restaurant, he catches me up on the shenanigans his girls got up to on their camping trip.
Overall, it sounds like Linden won’t be in charge of campfire tending anymore.
I told him about my hectic few days with work, catching up on a bunch of new clients that were referred to me unexpectedly.
We pull up to one of the fancy restaurants in our area, which sits on a popular lake.
Ben checks in at the hostess stand, and they lead us to outdoor seating.
There is a table set up in the far corner of the outside seating area with flowers and a bucket of champagne.
There are a couple of other people sitting outside, but the area we are in is pretty private.
A quick glance around has me noticing that there are no flowers and champagne on the other tables, so I'm definitely getting special treatment.
I also notice we’re attracting some attention, as people must have been waiting to see who had the special setup. We take our seats at the table, and Ben gives me one of his typical grins. “Champagne?” he asks.
“Sure. Oh, by the way, this doesn’t seem to be as casual as you previously indicated.”
He shrugs, “I wanted to treat you to something nice. It’s been a while for me, and you have been so great. You deserve something special, and I can’t always offer that to you. So, let me, for tonight.”
“It’s unnecessary, but I really appreciate it. Thank you, Ben,” I replied, my whole body feeling warm and fuzzy from the sips of champagne and how sweet he was, setting up a special evening.
We ordered our food and caught up on day-to-day happenings since we last saw each other in person. Our meal was amazing, and the flow of conversation kept going throughout.
“Maybe this isn't appropriate dinner date conversation, but can I ask you something personal?” Ben asks.
“Sure, I’ve had enough champagne to answer just about anything,” I replied back to him.
He takes a deep breath. “So, the last time we were together, you said something, and I need to know what you meant. Just in case things get heated later. And if they don’t, that’s fine, too.
I don’t have any expectations.” Another deep breath.
“You said ‘we don’t have to worry about pregnancy,’ and in the heat of the moment, if you had said ‘put a baby in me’ I probably would have just complied.
What did you mean by that? I assumed you just meant you're on birth control? Again, I recognize this is a conversation we probably should have had before, but I wasn’t thinking with my brain at the moment. ”
Shit. This is a conversation we need to have, but what a buzz kill.
We aren’t anywhere close to a conversation about having babies or the future.
Explaining my infertility issues on a first date is not my idea of a good time.
I could just lie and say I’m on birth control. But I don’t want to lie to him.
“Well, it’s a long story, and it sucks to talk about.
Essentially, I can’t have kids. Or it’s extremely unlikely.
I have some infertility issues and have been told it’s not completely impossible, but it’s a very long shot.
My most serious boyfriend and I were together for several years, and nothing ever happened despite not preventing pregnancy.
It’s just not in the cards for me. I know that’s probably more than you need to know, but I also want to assure you that it’s safe.
And if you aren’t comfortable with that, I’m okay with using added protection. ”
“Does that make you sad?”
“Honestly?” I asked.
“Yes, of course. Honestly.”
“Yeah. It’s been pretty devastating. It’s pretty much what ended my last relationship.
We had been together for years, on two separate occasions, and I wanted to start looking into treatments or fostering or adopting, and he couldn’t commit to that.
I do want kids, more than anything, so I couldn’t continue being with him when he didn’t.
I’ve looked into doing everything on my own, and I am pretty committed to moving forward with that.
I’m approaching forty and don’t want to wait too long so that it becomes too late to begin a motherhood journey.
I also want to be clear: this is not something I would share with any first date, ever, but you asked. Too much?”
“No, it’s not too much. And I’m sorry you had to go through that. Thank you for telling me. I should warn you that one of my children was conceived right through birth control, so I have super strong sperm. You have been warned.”