Excerpt: The Best Gifts In Life

When we met that afternoon, I was taken aback by what she wore: a long-sleeved charcoal grey ribbed-knit top and matching knee-length skirt, and black flats. It was the first time I’d seen her wearing anything that snug, and it accentuated every curve. Her hair looked the same, with those soft wavy curls, and if she was wearing any makeup it was done very lightly because she didn’t look “made up”. I was glad I rarely wore jeans; at least in my usual clothes of the day (a button-down shirt and khakis) I didn’t look underdressed.

Red faced and heart racing, I said, “Wow, you look great! But you didn’t have to get all dressed up!”

“You always look so much nicer that I thought I’d look nicer too,” was her reply.

We hopped in my car, an ancient Ford Escort, and headed out to dinner at a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant. We talked there for what seemed like forever, catching up on all the news we’d missed while I was working all those long hours and while the board was down, and agreeing that we both had missed our notes and chats. Then she started talking about how she’d been feeling the past few weeks since we’d met, and how much our conversations had meant to her. I could tell there was something she wanted to say, but she was very uncomfortable in talking about it at the table.

“Let’s get out of here and go for a drive, and we can talk some more,” I suggested.