Definitely. She found talking with Curt easy. They’d discussed a huge range of topics. They’d even touched on politics a little, something she tended to avoid with most people. She found too many people got upset when you didn’t share the same political views as them. Often, those same people tried to convert you to their way of thinking. Rather than risk a disagreement or offend someone, she was selective about with whom she discussed the topic. While she and Curt shared some of the same political views, they hadn’t agreed on everything. Much to his credit, he hadn’t insisted his opinion was correct or tried to convert her to his way of thinking.
Not only was Curt easy to talk to, but there was also something about him. Something that set him apart from the men she’d gone out with before. She’d first noticed when he insisted on paying for coffee. He hadn’t argued with her, but it had been obvious it didn’t sit well with him. Dennis had never had a problem when she paid. A few times, he even suggested they split a bill.
Curt pulling out her chair, and later opening the car door for her, stood out vividly in her head. Dad used to open doors all the time for Mom, but he was from a different generation. Men didn’t do things like that anymore. At least, she’d never met any who did. Yet Curt had done both, and not because he was trying to impress her. No, it’d been too automatic on his part. Like it’d been ingrained in him to treat a woman a certain way.
“I did.”
“And will there be a second date?”
“It wasn’t a date, Mom. We talked and drank coffee.” Jeez, why did she keep insisting it was a date?
“Okay. Then, will there be a first date?” She set down her tea and moved back to the grill to check on the food.
“Next weekend.”
“Oh, how exciting. Now aren’t you glad I invited him over after he brought Stripes home?”
If she said yes, heaven knew how many other guys Mom might start inviting over for dinner. “Maybe a little, but let’s not make a habit of inviting men to dinner. I prefer finding my own dates, Mom. Okay?”
Mom looked over her shoulder, a smile stretched across her face. Whatever she intended to say, Taylor wasn’t going to appreciate. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one.” She turned her attention back to the chicken. “He’s polite, successful, and he appeared comfortable interacting with Reese. So far, everything points toward him being a keeper.”
There Mom went with her romantic fantasies again. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. We had pie and coffee. That’s it. Before you reserve the church and call the photographer, let us go out again.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll wait until next week to call Reverend Shawn.”
“Why are you calling Reverend Shawn?” Reese asked, stopping for a water break just in time to catch her grandmother’s statement.
Taylor threw her mom a look that said, “nice going—you answer this one.”
“Grown-up stuff,” Mom said. “Nothing to worry about. Dinner is almost done. Why don’t you go inside and wash your hands?”
“Please tell me, Mimi.” The girl didn’t like to be left out of anything. “Why are you calling Reverend Shawn?”
Taylor watched Mom struggle with an answer Reese would accept. “I want to see if the church needs extra help for this year’s Old Home Day.”
Every year the church sponsored the town’s Old Home Day celebration, an event that had started in 1906 and grown over the years. Today, the entire town got involved with it.
Satisfied with the answer, Reese dropped her soccer ball into the bucket of outside toys on the patio, and went inside.
“She hears everything,” Mom said. “Before she comes back, is there anything else you’d care to share about our handsome new neighbor?”
“He’s different. But not in a bad way or anything.” Taylor thought for a good way to describe what she meant. “It sounds cheesy, but I’d use the word classy to describe him. He pulls out chairs, opens doors.”
“There are much worse things a person can be.”
She agreed with that.
Mom put the platter of hamburgers and chicken on the table. They’d already brought out a garden salad and potato chips. “There’s something about him that seems familiar. I can’t put my finger on what it is.”
Taylor tore open the chips and uncovered the salad bowl. “He probably reminds you of someone you’ve seen on a television show or in a movie.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Mom agreed, dropping the matter.
***
In Curt’s opinion, a long motorcycle ride was a damn good way to spend a gorgeous spring afternoon. He’d left his house over two hours ago, sticking to the back roads as much as possible. The highway would’ve shaved at least forty minutes from the drive, maybe even more, but who wanted to be stuck on the highway when it was this nice out? Definitely not him.
After parking in the underground garage, Curt took the stairs up to the Hillcrest’s main lobby. Both his cousins Trent and Gray lived in the exclusive downtown Providence complex. He’d visited both on numerous occasions, and never before had a problem going right on up without first stopping at the security desk. Today, as he walked toward one of the two public elevators, a uniformed security guard stopped him.