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. . .
Rey could hear the couple in the booth next to her talking together in hushed tones.
“That’s the most brutal thing I’ve ever seen. Poor guy. I can’t believe she did that.”
“And he brought her such beautiful flowers. Oh, my.”
Rey craned her neck and tried to see what was going on. Someone must have been having just as shitty a night as she. And sure enough, she did see a guy in a booth meant for two, a huge bouquet of red roses in a decorative vase, and no one sitting opposite. His face was a study of shock and devastation. Rey watched him reach for his coat. Watched him slide a plain gray beanie over his voluminous black hair.
But he continued to sit there, staring at the vacant spot opposite him.
Rey could sympathize. The couple talking about him hadn’t noticed that her date had bailed too.
She picked up her bag and her coat and finished her drink. She stood and made to leave the restaurant. A nice place, honestly. A place for good times. A place for memories.
When she got to the desk, she tucked her coat neatly at her elbow and changed directions. The night didn’t have to end with a bad memory. It was time to take charge of her destiny.
As she approached the table of the man who’d been, possibly, dumped on a day like Valentine’s Day, one of those appropriate love songs began to play over the building’s speakers. Jazzy piano. Soft. Slow. Rey recognized it, but couldn’t quite remember the words.
My Funny Valentine…
The man had yet to break his deadened stare. His mouth was cracked open, his brow pulled down over dark eyes as the candlelight glow played over his face. He had funny features. Not a classically handsome man, but certainly not without interesting looks.
Rey stood beside the empty side of the booth and smiled. She settled her coat in her hands and said, “Hi.”
The man startled slightly from his contemplation, glancing up at her with a puzzled expression. “Yes?”
“May I join you?”
His jaw fell open and his eyes widened. “Well, uh—sure. Yes.” He scrambled to pop up from his own seat as she took hers.
They settled across from each other, Rey still smiling, he still blinking in uncertainty. His cheeks had darkened in a flush of embarrassment.
“I take it that your evening has not gone as you’d planned?” she asked.
“Ah, no. It… hasn’t.” His eyes went from hers to the table to the bouquet at his left.
“Blind date?”
His lips compressed in an unhappy line. He only nodded.
“My date didn’t show, either. I’m not sure what happened, but maybe he took one look at me and left. Who knows.”
He huffed and looked up. “Not possible.”
The corner of Rey’s mouth ticked up. “That’s nice of you to say.”
A server approached their booth and asked for their orders. Her companion gaped up at the newcomer and blinked several times. “Uh… I’m… I’m not sure?” His panicked eyes searched hers.
So Rey ordered as if that was exactly what she’d planned to do at that moment. She smiled at the man, an encouragement to do the same.
When the server left, the man leaned over the table slightly. “Maybe this would be less awkward if I knew your name?”
She reached across the table and offered her hand. “I’m Rey.”
His large hand was careful as it caught hers. Big fingers unsteady as they held her little fingers. “I’m Ben. It’s… nice to meet you?”
She squeezed his hand before she let him go. “Yes, it is very nice to meet you. Ben.” Rey had a difficult time looking away from his face. “I’m sorry if I’ve totally hijacked your night, but… I had to meet you.”
“Meet me? Why?”
“I don’t know. Don’t you ever get a feeling about someone as soon as you see them? Maybe you meet the eyes of a stranger and automatically know that person could be important to you?”
“I don’t think anyone could be guilty of thinking something like that about me,” he mumbled.
Rey nodded and glanced down at the table. “I’m not very good at the blind date thing and tonight has been rather a let down. So I’m taking matters into my own hands. Ben, would you like to be my Valentine?”
“Did you see what happened to me earlier?” he asked quietly.
“I heard the couple next to me talking about it. I didn’t see it. But I saw you, and I thought we could face the rest of the evening together since we were in the same boat. So to speak.”
He huffed a short laugh and nodded. “Yeah. That would be… fine. Good.”
“So… who set you up?” Rey grabbed a chunk of bread from the basket and tore off a lump. She dipped it in the seasoned oil and savored it. She was hungry.
Ben tore off a piece of the bread she offered to him. His eyebrows went high under his beanie, which he must have realized, just then, that he was still wearing. He reached up and slid it off the back of his head and set it aside. His hair fluffed out from his hairline and fell in heavy waves over his ears. Great hair.
“My mother.”
Rey tilted her head and said, “Oh. Is she a meddler?”
He laughed. His face crinkled and creased in places as his smile exposed his uneven teeth. A funny little smile. A becoming smile.
“She’s a meddler of the first degree.”
Rey went pensive for a moment as she took another chunk of bread. “That must be nice. I never knew my mother.”
“Oh.” He frowned, closing that smile down. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t be. Where I grew up, there was a house mother. She was a firecracker and a lot of fun. What about the rest of your family?”
And so it went for a while, they enjoyed their meal and talked. She learned that Ben was an only child with a car-buff father, whose interests had been passed down to him. He and his father enjoyed dirt-track racing a few months a year on their weekends.
But during his weekdays, Ben was a high school teacher. “World History,” he said.
Ben was surprised when she began to ask some pointed questions about the types of engines he used in his dirt racing cars.
“Wait… how do you know that?” he asked.
Rey smiled as she folded her napkin back into her lap. “Mechanic by day,” she said, showing her hands to him, indicating the rough calluses and grease and oil stains that never seemed to come clean, no matter how many times she scrubbed with that orange-scented grit soap. “As if you couldn’t tell.”
Ben grabbed one of her hands, not hesitant at all this time. He swept a wide thumb over her knuckles and flipped her hand over to do the same with her palm.
Rey’s intake of breath was noticeable. Her instincts had been absolutely right. Ben was probably someone who could become important to her very quickly. He was smart. He was interesting. And she would be willing to bet he’d be a lot of fun to be around, especially when he got together with his dad to talk shop and work on their car for the races. Rey had such a desperate desire to be part of something like that.
“Rey… despite how this night began, I’ve had a great time with you. Would you like to do this again soon?”
She turned her hand in his and held on. “Yes. I’d like that.”
He smiled down at their hands. “I just… I can’t believe this has happened. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. You’re so beautiful and I’m this dopey guy who gets dumped at first sight…” He blinked several times.
She shook her head and eyed him. “You are… a work of art.”
He stared back at her for a long time. A slow, thorough study. To judge her sincerity? Just to look?
His hand tightened around hers. He reached over with his free hand and pulled a rose from the bouquet. He offered it to her, so quiet and so serious.
The song that had played as she’d first come to his booth played again. My Funny Valentine…
Rey smiled and had to agree. It was possible that every day could be Valentine’s Day, especially if she held on tight to Ben’s hand from that moment on.
She took the rose. She stood and brought him up with her. She stepped close, raised up on her tiptoes. He stooped down and dropped his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
A good kiss.
They parted, smiling.
They left the restaurant hand in hand.
Forever changed.
Ever together.
. . .
