Social Distancing

Chapter 9: Last First Date

That's why he said praying for 'us.'

"Your grandmother sounds sweet," I replied. "Worrying shows she cares. How old is she?"

"Eighty-three." The increased sensitivity of the elderly population above seventy immediately appeared in my mind. Amy had run hundreds of observational study reports on cases reported within other countries, only to conclude that the virus was more deadly for certain population subgroups.

That's not good.

"Can I ask you something personal?" I suddenly shifted the topic before I blurted out my thoughts, which would've more than likely sounded completely insensitive.

"Of course." He sat back against his chair with that familiar ease exuding from him already.

"Good evening folks. Welcome. Drinks tonight?" The waiter interrupted us. Noah's eyes traveled to me.

"I'll just take water, please," I said with a tight smile.

"I'll have the same," he added.

"You can get whatever you want," I assured him.

"I know you're not a big drinker, so it's okay. Just water." He nodded at the waiter, who dismissed himself.

"It's not that I don't like it, just not the way it slows my brain down," I admitted. "If that makes any sense."

"Maggie, last thing I'd want to do is slow your brain down," he said with a laugh. "Although I might have a better chance of keeping up with you if I did."

"What do you mean?" I stared curiously at him.

"We both know you're bloody brilliant, more brilliant than our entire department." My stare melted into a warm smile. The pleasant feelings behind my smile were short lived though, after images of the frustrating week flashed through my mind.

"It's not helping now," I admitted with a sigh, picked up the menu in one hand, and glanced at the options.

"Hey, it's okay." He set down his menu, extended his hand, and placed his palm atop mine. I looked at the gesture in amusement, as the same warmth I'd felt when he'd done that at the cafeteria returned.

"You'll figure it out. I know you will..." He rubbed my hand warmly, then retracted his hand. "Do you know what you want?"

"What?" My thoughts were suddenly disorganized.

"To eat." He pointed at the menu. I shook my head, so he suggested, "How about this? I order something for you, you order something for me? If we don't like it then we can swap plates."

"Okay," I sat back and abandoned my menu.

This will be easy. I got this.

"Ready to order?" The waiter reappeared. "Ma'am?"

I glanced at Noah for a moment, then said, "Side of Caesar salad, please add bacon. Ribeye steak plate, cooked medium well with broccoli slaw and roasted potatoes. Oh, and could I get the garlic butter for the potatoes on the side?"

Noah stared at me.

"Very good." The waiter nodded. "And you sir?

"I was going to go with the chicken and side salad, but I now I feel a bit inadequate." My smile erupted into a small laugh. "So let's add a chocolate lava cake dessert for my depression."

"Great, be twenty to thirty minutes." The waiter disappeared.

"Explain that please, love." Noah pretended to frown at me.