I’d like to say, for the benefit of the ladies, that I considered calling Sylvia right back. I considered it carefully. I gave it weight. I gave it time.<\/p>\n
I threw the phone on the bed and opened the closet door, instead.<\/p>\n
Several things fell out, things I’d apparently disturbed. I don’t have a bowling ball or hubcap collection, thankfully. I picked them back up, as I know having a clean bedroom is an invitation and I was feeling friendly, maybe even frisky. <\/p>\n
“Snazzy,” I said aloud. I wondered how Rohana meant it. Tux and tails? (And am I the only one who pictures a Sonic rug like the bear rugs you used to see in cartoons? Nevermind. I also wanted to see the Azrael\/Garfield Ultimate Showdown, though it might not be of Ultimate Destiny.) Did I have to sparkle? <\/p>\n
I ended up taking out some good interview pants, and a vest I’d saved for a steampunk outfit I was going to do if I ever got my lazy rear moving for it. I took a few minutes transferring stuff out of my regular jacket for a suit jacket, reminding myself of a similar montage (minus a lot of making-people-dead stuff) in almost every action film. <\/p>\n
I didn’t actually go through the list aloud. (“Salt. Check. Mirror shard. Check. Handkerchief. Check. Keys. Check. Checkcard. Card, I mean, check. Condom. Check. Deck of cards. Check. Old receipt for hamburgers down the street. Check. Now you’re being silly. Check.”)<\/p>\n
I shaved carefully. The phone didn’t ring.<\/p>\n
I put the get-up on. I tried on a succession of hats, and ended up far more towards, “Goofy,” rather than, “Snazzy.” I considered them anyway, but instead decided on a thin silk tie and a pin made of an old motherboard. <\/p>\n
The phone was determined to remain silent.<\/p>\n
I leaned back across the bed and grabbed it. No, no missed calls. I could just call her back. That had been kind of a jerkish thing to say. I could apologize. <\/p>\n
Yeah, right.<\/p>\n
I checked the time instead. It was time to start looking out the window compulsively. Of course, except for an ambulance, I didn’t know what Rohana drove. <\/p>\n
I mentally tried to compose a scene. Should I look anxious? Should I be reading a book? I eyed the stack of graphic novels that had been undergoing some kind of multiplication on the chair. What if I picked up one that she thought was dumb? I mean, she was at least kind of into the same genres I was, so I didn’t want to run into the wrong side of geek snobbery. Of course, that went the other way around. What if she liked magic pony fantasy and didn’t like merchandise-driven continuity-confused technoporn? Or, um, the other way around?<\/p>\n
I resolved to get through the stack, or build more shelving. I opened my closet door and picked up new and different things that decided to fall. Luckily, none had yet transformed themselves into bowling balls or hubcaps. I considered the space and had actually gone looking for a rubber mallet and a pretzel (it made sense at the time) when the doorbell rang.<\/p>\n
I checked my phone, but it was the doorbell. I had just not heard anyone use it in a while. I wondered (while I crossed to the front door) if this was a good litmus test for the preternatural. I wasn’t sure entirely how I would get Peredur to approach a door that stood on a stage, but I was thinking it could be a truism that fey tend to knock.<\/p>\n
I opened the door and Rohana jumped towards me. I moved backwards instinctively, catching myself before I knocked my head on the back of the couch or the breakfast bar or anything super suave like that. <\/p>\n
She laughed, steadying herself on the doorframe. “I didn’t mean to launch myself at you,” she apologized.<\/p>\n
“You looked ready to pounce,” I admitted. <\/p>\n
“I hadn’t heard the doorbell ring inside, so I didn’t know if I should knock, and you opened the door too quickly and, wow, that’s pretty snazzy.” She handwaved her explanation away, however it let my hypothesis down.<\/p>\n
She was wearing a long burgundy shawl with silver threads over a white top and a long skirt that matched the shawl. I didn’t know what to call the top, other than it evoked a sound more associated with deliciousness than fashion design. I expressed it to her with an exaggerated waggle of the eyebrows.<\/p>\n
“Yeah,” she said, giggling. “Let’s go. I am back on shift tonight, so let’s try and make every moment count.” She leaned in to kiss me, and I anticipated it with enthusiasm.<\/p>\n
“Even the traffic?”<\/p>\n
“Hmmm. Locked up in a small space with you and nothing to do for minutes?”<\/p>\n
“Sounds naughty,” I decided. “That’s promising.”<\/p>\n
“Or a confessional,” she admitted. <\/p>\n
I snickered and locked the door after us.<\/p>\n
She drove a sensible late-model sedan, and it looked like it had been recently cleaned if not vacuumed. I got in on the passenger side, glancing at the rental car in the late afternoon sun, checking it over again for any material damage.<\/p>\n
There was a paper under the windshield wipers that I noted while we were driving away. I’d get it when we got back. Probably a flyer for a local church. I had noticed they were pretty aggressive in their print advertising. At least it attracted the literate.<\/p>\n
“Where are we going?” I couldn’t help but ask.<\/p>\n
“I’m wearing white,” she said.<\/p>\n
“So it’s not barbecue or italian?” I grinned.<\/p>\n
“Or burlesque.”<\/p>\n
“Does burlesque lead to staining?” I asked.<\/p>\n
“No, but it sounded like the logical end triplet. Um.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry if I sound nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, but we’re going to someplace I like. You’re not allergic to seafood, are you?”<\/p>\n
“No, but a lobster killed my father.”<\/p>\n
She glanced at me while getting onto the highway.<\/p>\n
I laughed. “No, no, and only the original anime ‘Little Mermaid’ with Marina made me cry. I would have eaten Flounder fried up with some olive oil and salt.”<\/p>\n
She smiled. Then frowned. “Hold on,” she said, her lips gone tight. <\/p>\n
I waited for the crash.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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