I had lunch with Lea today. It’s relatively easy now that Aaron’s in preschool three days a week, and we don’t do it enough. I’d like to nudge the frequency up to twice a month or so.
We ate at P.F. Chang’s. (That’s a whole new restaurant for me, now that I know to stay away from the lunch bowls.) It was marvelous to have her to myself for an hour. We talked about grown-up stuff and enjoyed our meals.
After lunch, we stood on the sidewalk and chatted for a bit, holding hands. The early autumn sun, its shifting angle only just becoming obvious, cast an ethereal glow upon her face and hair. And just before I returned to work, we had a great kiss. Now I didn’t rape her face—we’re not tonsil-swabbing-in-public sorts of folks—but I did kiss her a skoche longer than a typical goodbye.
She’s such a babe. And she’s mine.
Driving back to work with a big grin, it occurred to me that our first date, almost 14 years ago, had been right across the street at West End Grill. It’s shouting distance, really (well, at 3 in the morning, maybe—”across the street” is “across Research Park Boulevard,” which is a four-lane thoroughfare). The pitter-pat I experienced today on the sidewalk at our newest Peoplequarium is exactly the same buzz I had that October day in 1994. What a blessing to feel it still!