Chapter Twelve
“Would you like some more palak paneer?” David asked, offering the final remnants on the plate to Claire.
“Oh goodness,” Claire said, waving his offer away. “I want to keep going, but I am absolutely stuffed.”
“So, no room for dessert, then?” David inquired.
Claire didn’t hesitate. “Now, now . . . I always have room for dessert.”
David laughed and put the plate back down.
He was nearly two hours into his date with Claire at one of his favorite Indian restaurants in midtown, and he had to admit, the entire experience had been rather pleasant.
The conversation was good. They had bonded over their shared love of rescue animals, Jewish culture and spicy food.
And yet his mind kept wandering to Evelyn.
Despite his best intentions to remain in the present, he found himself constantly comparing Claire to his ex-wife.
The waiter returned to their table. “Will that be all for tonight?”
“Actually,” David said. “We’d love to see a dessert menu.”
“Right away.”
The table settled into silence. Claire angled her chin curiously. “Everything okay?”
He smiled. “I’ve had a really nice time with you.”
“Me, too.”
The waiter returned with the dessert menus. After perusing the options, there was really only one choice—ordering both the chocolate cake and the carrot pudding.
“So,” Claire said, leaning forward a little. “Have you dated a lot?”
“A lot?”
“Since the divorce,” Claire said.
David shifted in his seat. “You’re actually kind of . . . my first date since the divorce.”
Her eyes widened at the news. “Oh, wow.”
“Is that surprising?”
“No,” she said, before backtracking. “I mean, maybe a little.”
He laughed. “I appreciate the honesty.”
“But,” she said, her voice softening, “I get it, you know? Divorce is a loss, and with that loss comes grief. It can take a long time to get over it, to feel like you’re even deserving of moving on, falling in love again, to risk getting hurt.”
He nodded, because he understood that fear. Mainly, what kept him from moving on was this anvil of shame he carried around about their divorce. Not just for his own inability to fix what was broken between them, but for walking out, too.
“How long did you make it?” she asked gently.
“Seven years,” he said, before adding, “though we were friends since we were eight.”
“That’s a long time to know someone,” she said.
“It is.”
“So, you two were like . . . high school sweethearts, then?”
“Not quite.” He laughed at the suggestion. “We didn’t actually start dating till we reconnected in New York several years later.” He wanted to stop talking about Evelyn. “And what about you? How long were you married?
“Two,” she said. “Barely.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said, wiping away crumbs from the table with one hand. “Turns out we had different visions for our marriage. I thought it would be him and me forever . . . and he thought it was him and me plus three members of the Temple Sinai pickleball team.”
“Ouch.”
“I have to ask, you didn’t cheat on her, right?”
David sat up taller. “I didn’t cheat on her. I’ve never cheated on anyone.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I’m resolved not to make the same mistake twice.”
David understood. “Fair enough.”
The waiter returned with dessert. The conversation quickly shifted away from exes to handing out forks and plates and debating what to try first.
“That chocolate cake is the size of Ruth,” David said.
“Ruth?” Claire asked.
“My rescue chicken.”
She laughed. “Maybe we didn’t need the carrot pudding.”
His eyes wandered toward the table. “Probably not.”
They were just about to start digging in when the phone inside her purse vibrated.
“Crap,” she said, reading a text message, “I have to go.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just . . . the babysitter had an emergency and needs to get home.”
“Ah.”
She returned her phone to her pocketbook and pulled out her wallet. “May I?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“You sure?” She frowned. “I mean . . . I’m just leaving you here, all alone, to eat dessert as big as Ruth, all by yourself.”
David came up with a better plan. “Why don’t you take the desserts to go?”
Her gaze narrowed. “Are you sure?”
“It’s the least I can do for such a nice evening out.”
He meant it. It had been a long time since he’d had such a nice evening with a woman. While he loved living in rural Pennsylvania, the options for dating—as well as food—were limited. Claire touched her heart and graciously accepted the offer. “I would be happy to take these for my daughter.”
David nodded and called the waiter over, asking him to wrap up all the items quickly. While they were waiting, he helped Claire into her jacket. “Listen,” he said, deciding to take the plunge, “I had a really great time tonight.”
“Me, too.”
“Any chance you’d want to do it again?” he asked cautiously.
“I’d like that.”
“Great,” he said, “because I just heard about this amazing Hanukkah pop-up on the Upper West Side. Maybe we could check it out tomorrow night?”
She tilted her chin. “That sounds perfect.”
By the time they were done working out the details, the waiter had returned.
Moments later, Claire was gone, the desserts wrapped up and taken with her.
David felt a pang of loneliness in his chest. He didn’t feel like going back to Vikram’s apartment, finding himself alone with his thoughts.
But with folks waiting at the door for a spot, he also didn’t want to take up a table.
The waiter returned. “Would that be all tonight?”
David nodded. “Just the check, please.”
The waiter scurried off, and David’s thoughts wandered back to Claire.
He hoped he had done the right thing, agreeing to a second date.
Objectively, it had gone well. The conversation had flowed.
They had similar interests. She was attractive and kind.
And yet being with her didn’t bring him the same intensity of feeling, or desire, that he’d always had with Evelyn.