Once Upon A Time

Once Upon A Time - Chp 7

It was during Edith's hen night that the girls had teased about finding her future husband at the wedding. Margaret would be next, they all insisted, even going so far as to ask Edith to throw the bouquet in her direction. When she didn't catch it, but watched with humor as another, more mature woman did, the girls all shook their head at her. The opportunity had been there, but Margaret let it pass by, feeling somewhat remorse afterwards, though she couldn't explain why.

Now as she sat across from that man, the worry and fear, which had bloomed in her chest at his declaration, made her wish she was elsewhere but there, with him at the restaurant. All those silly girls gave her an, 'I told you so look', while openly admiring the man. Margaret would gladly have traded places with any of them if they had heard his proclamation.

During her university years, she thought she had heard every conceivable come on line imaginable. This man didn't ever appear humble. His forwardness and self assurance only added to the conceit she felt he must possessed. Normally she found such a trait appealing, admirable for someone on the road to success, but not when it dealt with personal matters or in this case, her love life.

Marry him? With complete certainty she would not!

Their water glasses were filled again by the waiter and the older man smiled kindly down at her while she made her choice among the menu selections. She watched as John looked over the menu, his deep blue eyes focused intently, seemingly unaware of her gaze. For a short minute she was able to look at him in leisure, her interest based upon curiosity rather than admiration. His eyes snapped up when he felt the heat of her look and she lowered hers in return, feeling guilty at being caught.

Now it was Margaret's turn to be under inspection and she didn't enjoy the feeling at all.

"We should order," she said irritably.

The sooner they ate, the faster she could get out of there and go home. How she wished this wretched business were over with.

Her compaion smiled instead, letting her anger wash over him as he signaled for the waiter to return.

"I'll have the Chicken Picatta," Margaret told the server.

"An excellent choice. Sir?"

"The same and a glass of white wine."

He was choosing the same dinner as she? Now she felt invaded.

Margaret sighed and folded her menu ignoring the two. Seconds later she began to play with her napkin when the sound of someone clearing his throat followed. Not noticing the waiter still lingered, she looked up to see him waiting for her to answer him.

The knowing look in his eyes made her stare back confused.

"What is it?"

"A glass of white wine with your dinner?" their waiter asked.

"No thank you."

She wanted to keep her wits about her.

The awkward silence that fell lasted as long as was expected. The man seated across the table hardly seemed to care. His enjoyment came from just watching her, gazing, looking his fill. There was no movement she made that John did not see. It was unnerving to be so closely scrutinized but he would not cease, not for a single second.

"I like your father very much. He's a scholar?" he spoke suddenly.

"You don't even know him. You spoke for what was it... fifteen minutes?"

"I'm a good judge of character. I believe he is too."

The look of confidence on his face only made Margaret's blood boil.