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Lucy finished her second drink then went into the
ladies room to do one final check before Dave was due to arrive. She wobbled on
her heels a little and vowed to just have a Coke when she went back to the bar.
Only two wines and already she felt drunk—it must be the nerves and the
adrenalin as well as the wine. Normally, she could take in a fair amount of
alcohol with little effect. She’d been drinking since she was twelve, after
all. All the same, she’d better take it easy. She could have a big night ahead
of her.
The ladies room was empty when she walked in. She
figured she had enough time to make sure her wig was on right and that her
cleavage was adjusted well enough to take the focus off any imperfection. She
smiled at her reflection—what imperfection? Her body was as good if not
better than anyone else her age—good enough for some lonely, web surfing
28-year-old anyway—and the wig had passed the test before, even though that
was a year ago. Lucy looked just as she described herself to Dave, but he’d
never know her hair wasn’t real, and wouldn’t guess that she was just
playing with him to satisfy her inexplicable urges. She couldn’t help herself,
and for a moment she felt sorry for Dave. But he was a man, they were all the
same, and this was all they deserved.
A group of three girls burst into the room, squealing
and giggling like they were still seventeen years old—they probably were,
knowing how lax the uni bar was on checking people’s ages at the door. Lucy
took their noisy arrival as her cue to quickly fix up her lippy and head back to
the bar.
True to her word, for now anyway, she resisted the
alcohol and ordered a soft drink. She gulped it down quickly so that she could
order another wine and at least have it sitting in front of her when Dave
arrived. She had made herself out to be more mature than her years; she didn’t
want to ruin that picture of herself by sitting here having a kid’s drink when
he got here. She drained the Coke quickly, ordered again, and resolved to sip
this glass of wine slowly. How on earth would she play her brilliant mind games
with him if she were out of hers?
She glimpsed at the door as she took a slow sip of her
wine and spied Dave entering. She knew it was him by the way he staggered in
uneasily—this certainly wasn’t his kind of place, no matter how cool he
tried to behave when he was chatting to her online. He looked a little scruffy
from this distance as well, which Lucy also expected.
As she stared at him, their eyes locked and he smiled
at her and made his way over to her. What Lucy didn’t expect, as Dave came
closer to her, was how much he looked like her father. Well, her father when he
was about Dave’s age anyway, she hadn’t seen him since then. Lucy had to put
her glass down as her hand began to shake at the similarity. She closed her eyes
and took a deep breath. She couldn’t lose it now.
“Hi there,” David’s voice shook a little as he
took a seat on the stool next to her. He cleared his throat. “David,” and
thrust out his hand to her.
“Lucy,” she smiled back as she took his hand and
shook it lightly. They looked at each other in a nervous silence for a moment,
then just started laughing.
“Sorry,” David smiled, “I don’t know why I’m
nervous. I have met people … like this before. Just not for a while,” he
lied.
“Yeah, me too. Why don’t you have a drink and
we’ll play a game of pool or something. Do you play?”
“Sure,” David smiled, then turned to the barman to
order a beer. Lucy stared at his profile—he was definitely a dead ringer for
her father, so she wasn’t sure how this evening would go. Something inside her
wanted to hit him right now, and all ideas of mind games went out the window in
that moment. Again she took a deep breath and smiled at him as he turned back to
her.
“Shall we?” He gestured towards the pool tables.
They made their way over to the corner, looking at each other up and down with
that air of excitement and apprehension that most people have on a first
‘date’. Little did they know that, before the evening was over, one of them
was in for a rude shock.
© Cynthia M. Piromalli
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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