John picked away at a carrot muffin that he had ordered from Beans & Brew, tapping his pen against the tabletop as he glanced around at the mildly busy coffee shop. His eyes lingered over to an older married couple, chatting away while holding hands across the table with the biggest smiles on their faces and love so deeply engrained in their eyes. John didn't figure himself much of a hopeless romantic, but as of late he was beginning to feel otherwise. He wanted more than anything to find the person who he would one day marry, and it wasn't just for obligation sake – he was ready to be with the woman of his dreams. But his goals as far as the marriage went weren't conventional; sure, he wanted children one day, but he didn't want to rush into having them. Instead he wanted to enjoy many years of marriage and the friendship that comes with it, he wanted to wake-up next to her and never take a day for granted.
The break-up with Nora changed the way he saw relationships, realizing just how easy it is to get comfortable to the point where you don't try as hard as you once used to. He would never quite understand why Nora ended things with him because it didn't entirely make sense, but in the long run he knew that it was only a matter of time. He loved Nora and cherished her in a way that you only can when you feel deeply about that person, but she wasn't the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He treated his time with her as a lesson and made sure to note where things had gone wrong and how to improve on them, he promised himself he wouldn't make the same mistakes twice. If John was anything, he was a man that learnt from his pitfalls.
John silently thanked his father for instilling a good head on his shoulders, a trait which he was proud to have. His father had been a man of many thoughts, often pondering life and how to make the most of it, studying the ways in which he could contribute positively in his years on earth. John adored his dad and the many intricacies that made up the man he was – he had been reserved and well-spoken, he treated people around him with as much respect as he would treat his own family, and he had been a man of true dialogue. One of John's favourite memories of his dad was when a very belligerent man got upset over his dad accidentally side-swiping the stranger's vehicle, and how composed his dad was the entire time despite the many slurs thrown in his direction. He let the man pour out his anger and frustration, when the time was right he made an apology and they worked out a way to make things right. Every syllable from his father's mouth exuded class and tact, something that John often tried to emulate.
Most of all, John remembered the way his father treated his mother and what a good example he set for the standards in which he should treat his own relationships. His father, David, doted lovingly over his mother, Alana, in ways which put any other romance to shame. John noted that it was the simple things that meant the most – the way David kissed Alana's cheek and whispered I love you as they worked together washing and drying the dishes, how he would find driftwood on the beach only to make it into wonderful signs with quotes from the great poets about the vastness and tenacity of love, and the way he always spoke of his wife in the highest regard – never once did he talk down about her. To David, Alana was a breath of life like no other, and John swore to himself that one day he would treat his own wife in the same manner.
But a shadow loomed over John, and soon he was pulled out of his thoughts and into the red swollen eyes of Nora. He stood up from the table and motioned for her to sit down, but she was so upset that she couldn't bare to move a muscle. John knew why she was, but ultimately he felt as though he had done the right thing by standing up for her when Ryler hit her. He didn't like to resort to violence, especially because he was being a hypocrite by doing so, but he couldn't contain the anger that burned away at him when he thought about someone hurting Nora on purpose.
"Can we talk about it, Nora?" John asked, his eyes softening as he saw that her bruises had barely healed and her arm was still in a cast. It more than likely would be for a few more weeks.
"Outside – now," She snapped, spinning on her heels so that she could stomp outside of the coffee shop. John grabbed a five dollar bill from his pocket and left it on the table before joining her. For a moment she couldn't bare to turn around to face him, her chest heaving in and out as she tried to calm herself. "He left me, Johnathan, because you couldn't mind your own business. He doesn't want anything to do with me."
"I'm sorry you're upset Nora, but I'm not sorry for doing what I did. You need to know that it's not okay for anyone to lay a finger on you, and you shouldn't ever think that someone hurting you means they love you too much," John explained, shoving his hands into his pockets despite the fact that he very much wanted to hug Nora.
"I don't care what you think, because you can't understand Ryler like I do. You just walked away from him when he needed you the most," Nora spat, finally facing John. "You don't understand the way he works anymore, John, I don't know if you ever really have. He's broken and he just needs someone to continue loving him no matter what."
"But he left you, Nora. He doesn't love you, he's using you to help bury his own pain," John said softly, hoping not to hurt her any more than she already was but clearly his words were like knives in her heart. She pulled in her lips against her teeth, trying to hide the trembling in her chin as she brushed away a few tears that managed to escape. "He has to sort out all of his anger about his dad before he can try to love again, right now everything is just a band-aid to him. If he really loved you, he never would have done what he did – you would never look how you do right now."
Nora broke out into sobs, using her free hand to cover her face so that John couldn't see her cry. John tried to reach over to comfort her but she immediately raised her cast and started smacking him away, yelling at him to not touch her. John tried to reassure her that everything would be okay, asking her to calm down and take a breath. This only seemed to anger her more as she continued to try to hit him with her cast, finally coming to a halt when the pain was too much. John merely tried to move away from the worst of the blows, but the way she was hitting him was not because she hated him – quite the opposite. It was because she knew John was right, and she was frustrated. John had seen this behaviour before, like the man that his father had side-swiped, and he knew that he had to be calm and allow Nora to vent her anger for a moment. When she came to her senses she apologized to John, breaking the distance between them to hug him. John wrapped his arms around her, but not too tight as he was afraid of hurting her more than she already was.
"He didn't have to act that way, Nora. He's made his bed, now he has to lie in it," John whispered, stroking Nora's hair softly as she sobbed into his chest. "I'm very, very sorry."
"Don't be," She mumbled from his chest, finally pulling away as she swiped her tears onto her sleeve. "You're right – you're always right, Johnathan."
John waited for her to take a few more breaths, watching as she gathered herself to leave. "Will you be okay?" He asked, hoping more than anything she wouldn't lie to him, but she did.
Her heart was broken, sprawled out for the world to see, and yet she refused to admit it. "I will."
~~~
Elaine wasn't sure how she felt about her current company, watching as he didn't take a breath between each of his large spoonfuls of food. She found his eating habits quite appalling, unsure if Gordon even managed to chew his dinner before swallowing. Was this her life now – sitting with a man who quite clearly had no table manners, let alone a man that couldn't hold conversation for longer than the span of a commercial on television? She had kept better conversations with her plants, for crying out loud. The sound of his gums smacking had become too much, eyeing his dentures that were barely covered in his napkin by his plate, Elaine cleared her throat and placed her fork to the side.
"So you live alone, Gordon?" Elaine questioned, wishing he would at least look at her to acknowledge her existence.
He swallowed a large mouthful of food after having gummed it for far too long, nodding his head in a few curt bobs. "Yep, just me, myself, and I – well, I also have a Cockatiel named Larry," He said, the name causing Elaine to freeze momentarily. He had given his damn bird the same name as her deceased husband. This was not going well at all she now concluded.
"Fascinating," She tried to be as polite as she could be, thinking of anything else to say to make the time pass. "I have three children, it seems like just last week they were still here with me. Now they have their own houses, how quickly they grow up."
"Oh, I suppose they do, don't they?" Gordon replied, shoving more food into his mouth. "I never had much interest in kids."
"Never got the chance to have some of your own?"
He shrugged. "I didn't want any, I knew from the time I was young."
"I was born with a maternal instinct, I'm sure," Elaine tried to continue the conversation, but Gordon wasn't budging. She heaved a sigh, picking up her fork to shove her food around on her plate once more. "Are you enjoying the class?"
Gordon looked up now, his mouth coming to a halt as he noticed Elaine poking her food around. Deep down he wanted to ask if she was enjoying herself, but instead he could only seem to focus on the fact that she wasn't eating. He wasn't much of a dater, if a person could even consider this dinner as a date, but he knew he wasn't doing well. If he had more charm about him then he would have complimented her on the hair clip that drew back her short bangs from her forehead, how he loved the shade of her maroon lipstick against her ivory skin and that he had never seen someone look so dazzling without even trying. But he couldn't say that – no, of course he couldn't, because he was Gordon Zachariah: Permanent Bachelor. Instead he made up some excuse about needing a new hobby and that the dance class was the first thing he had seen in the newspaper, when in reality he specifically chose the dance class so that he could hopefully find a suitable woman of class and beauty, one just like Elaine. He cursed at himself silently, wishing he could just grow a pair and tell Elaine that he wanted this to be a date – and not just a casual dinner between dance partners.
They finished dinner, both unsatisfied for two entirely different reasons and each one wishing that they could restart the date, or rather not start the date at all. Elaine didn't want to try again, she missed her Larry and didn't understand why she felt the need to go out with Gordon. But she was lonely, especially given that I had been busier lately and wasn't spending as much time with her as I used to. She was upset that I had missed our Thursday dance class, but had pretended that she was perfectly fine with it. She knew I needed to live my life and she didn't want to hold me back especially since I was seeing John now, but she felt envious that our time together was getting fewer and farther between.
Gordon, on the other hand, thought Elaine was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and she reminded him so much of a classy woman from the old books he kept in his bookshelves, despite the fact that he would never admit to reading them. From the moment he first saw Elaine, he knew that she was the woman for him – even though he figured he would never stand a chance with her. Now that they were together, on what one could say was a date or, perhaps, two acquaintances going out for a casual meal, he was completely blowing his chances. He felt embarrassed for himself and the fact that he couldn't seem to muster up the courage to follow the simple directions he had read in his Men's Magazine that talked about dating. All he had to do was ask her about herself, what she liked, what made her happy, continue talking about her and only talking about himself when she asked, but try not to make it all about himself. Throw in a few compliments, make sure to maintain eye contact and at the end of the night not kiss her, but instead leave her hanging – it was as simple as that, and yet Gordon couldn't seem to follow any of the rules. He had even forgotten to help pull her chair out when they were leaving the restaurant.
They walked side by side with an uncomfortable distance between them, eyeing the stores of the main street silently. Elaine was bored, he knew that much, he could tell by how she couldn't tear her eyes away from the store windows. If he didn't make a move soon, then she wouldn't ever want to go out for dinner with him again. He couldn't risk that, so he did the only thing he knew how. He placed his hand on her shoulder, bringing her to a halt as he extended his other hand out to her. She stared blankly for a moment, unsure of what he was doing.
"Can I dance with you?" Gordon asked, his voice trembling and his cheeks hot with embarrassment. If she rejected him, he figured that he would hike up his trousers and run as fast as he possibly could. Instead, Elaine smiled simply and nodded. Success.
Gordon took Elaine's hand and allowed her to step in close to him, placing his hand on the square of her back while balancing her other hand in his. Even though there wasn't any music around, Gordon hummed a tune in his head in order to keep time. At first his feet wouldn't cooperate and he was unsteady, but Elaine gently reassured him with every mistake until they were softly waltzing underneath the lamppost on the sidewalk, bathing in the crescent moonlight.
If it wasn't for this dance, Elaine might have written Gordon off completely. But there was something sweet and vulnerable about him asking to dance with her, as if they were two young children at their first school dance and he had prepared the entire evening with this line in mind. He wasn't the best dancer, that much Elaine could say without feeling like she was being too critical, but he seemed to be enjoying himself greatly and that somehow sat well with Elaine. He wasn't being obnoxious with the loud smacking of his mouth, he wasn't talking too much about himself, and he was actually looking her in the eyes for the first time all evening. Maybe he was redeemable, Elaine thought, but only maybe for right now.
They danced for longer than the tune in Gordon's head, finally coming to a stop as soon as a car drove past them. Gordon offered his arm to gently usher Elaine back home, and they walked arm-in-arm until they arrived at her house. Gordon hadn't kissed anyone in so long, and despite the fact that he really wanted to, he didn't kiss Elaine. Instead he leaned in and she hugged him, wishing him sweet dreams before retreating into her house. He waited until her door was locked, finally making his way home. For the first time in forever, Gordon walked with a pep in his step.