Why are there no classes on friendship? They taught me how to multiply three numbers in our heads instead of using a perfectly good calculator but left me to figure out the friendship thing on my own. Or the dating. Or the freaking parenting. My Mom would have benefited from the latter. All should be part of the school curriculum. If I were teaching a friendship 101, the first thing I'd tell people is: they take time. A lot of time. And require constant attention. That's why I don't have many friends. Angie is pretty much it. The rest are acquaintances: friendly chitchat when you are around them and then you can forget they exist. Much more my thing.
My friendship with Ben is the reason I'm trying to find parking after driving half an hour in rainy darkness in the opposite direction from my apartment. I stifle a yawn. I need a faster way to translate the rest of the manuscript. There's a reason I dropped Latin after three semesters. It's not a walk in the park. Although walks with Ben might be comparable. And I need to finish grading the papers for Hopkins. That's due tomorrow. Damn it. I forgot about that. Not going to get much sleep tonight.
I open the door to the Monkey's Paw and scan the half-empty space for Ben and stifle another yawn. Almost eleven in the evening on a Thursday night doesn't look like a popular time. Small mercies. Ben's sitting at a table for two by the window to the left with a menu in his hands. A candle casts an amber glow on his face and paints his hair the color of honey.
"Anything you like?" I slide into the chair opposite him, take off my wet rain jacket and drape it behind me.
"I had studied the menu before I got here, and I will be ordering mussels. It's something I have not mastered and would like to see what they do with them. What would you like?"
I take the menu from his hand. Fish and chips at sixteen dollars are my best option if I want to get out of there with money remaining in my account. Next paycheck isn't till Monday.
"Did you tell the waitress you were expecting company?" Usually, the table would be set for two, but Ben is the only one with a menu, a glass of water, and utensils on his side.
"They have not asked."
"Maybe tomorrow, make sure you mention you'll not be alone, so the table is set for two. You should probably make a reservation as well. Friday night must be a busier time."
A waitress comes over to take our orders and brings me a glass of water.
"I made the reservations for tomorrow. And I'll be picking Linda up, so we will arrive here together."
That's an interesting development. Picking up also means dropping off, and an invitation to come over for a nightcap.
"If she invites you over to her place after dinner for a drink, it may be code for sex. So if you have not changed your mind and are not ready to go there yet, you may want to decline and drop her off, without joining her."
"I understand. Should I tell her I am a virgin? Will that slow her down?"
I'm not sure there's much that'd slow Linda down if she gets him to her place.
"I can't tell you what to do, but I wouldn't lead with that on your second date. I'd say it's something you can work up to. You'll have to get through the kissing part first."
"Do I have to kiss her?" I detect a twinge of alarm in his voice.
"You don't, but you can, it's OK to kiss her on a second date if she's interested." And I know she's interested. "But remember the hand holding lesson, it may be a good first step. And it's easy if you are at a table together and her hand is near, you can put yours on top and see how she does with that."
Ben reaches out and places his hand over mine. The weight of the day and my uncertainty over agreeing to spend my night practice dating with him, instead of studying or getting some sleep, melts away. I turn my hand over and relish the feel of his palm against mine. The unfamiliar feeling of content and relief are different from the electric desire I felt at the end of our walk, but no less pleasant. Maybe one more friend wouldn't hurt.
The waitress brings our food over, and we eat, talk, laugh, and relax. We are the last ones in the place when the staff informs us it's after midnight and they are closing up. There's something about Ben being the last customer even here. The rain let off, and the leisurely walk to my car is a familiar routine for both of us.
"And you know, you can always say 'No' to her requests, if you're uncomfortable."
"OK."
"But go for it if you are interested in her."
"OK."
"And try to relax, not overthink it. It's just like she'd a friend. A friend with potential for more." I sound more and more pathetic and my explanations must be more confusing than helpful at this point. Linda better be on her best behavior and not mess this up for Ben.
We stand by the open door of my car.
"If you walk to your car, this would be a perfect time to kiss her before you get in. And keep it PG-13—no obvious groping, only the kiss."
The streetlight provides enough illumination for me to see him look at my face, then my lips.
"Should we practice that?" Ben's voice is low and not much above a whisper, his eyes on my mouth.
My mouth wants to say 'Yes' but I'm smarter than that. This is coaching him for the date with Linda. Ben's not mine. I'm not going to fall into this trap.
"No," I'm not strong enough to kiss him and then have him go off and kiss Linda the next day. "I draw the line here." It's something she'd have to work on if she wants him.
"OK."
"Trust yourself. From the conversation I had with her earlier, Linda knows what she's doing. She'll lead you through it."
"OK."
"Text me after the date and tell me how it went." Maybe. I should be hoping he does. Yes, I am absolutely here for my friend Ben and he deserves a good first kiss experience. Linda better deliver. Yikes. I'm encouraging Linda now. Why does this have to be so hard?