could even reach for my billfold, the waiter was gone again. Just as suddenly, she was standing. "Please, stay and finish your meal," she said. "I'm sorry."
What was I supposed to do here without her? She didn't seem to think about the fact that I'd hardly come here to eat alone. I jumped up as she was turning to go. "Wait," I said again quickly.
She stopped for a moment and turned halfway back to look at me. "Please, stay," she said. "I don't want to be responsible for starving you as well." She forced a small smile.
"What's the meaning of this?" Even as I was saying that, she had turned around and started for the exit. I followed her and held her back. "Can't you tell me what the problem is?" She kept walking as if I hadn't said a thing. She ignored me. I would have to provoke her if I wanted an answer. "What's with that woman? Who is she?"
She stopped abruptly. "That's none of your business," she reprimanded me irritably.
So I'd hit the nail on the head. She was the reason. "Maybe not." I wasn't prepared to fight with her. "But was is my business is that I'm standing over here with you instead of sitting comfortably at our table and eating dinner with you. For that I would like an explanation. Even if it has nothing to do with me." She was quite agitated, I noticed. And I was probably irritating her even more. But if she just walked away, that wouldn't do much for me. I'd rather chance the storm.
"You are really..." She didn't say what it was she thought of me. Instead, she took a deep breath. "Okay. You're right. It's unfair. I admit that. Is that enough?"
She suddenly became very cool and calculating again. In that mood, I couldn't hope to get anything out of her. "Would you like to go somewhere else?" I asked, for the second time that evening.
"No," she answered promptly. "That was the mistake. My mistake," she stressed emphatically. "I don't normally go out." That surprised me, given our first encounter. She remembered that and corrected herself. "Almost never. And when I do, I don't go places like this." She glanced around.
"Are you looking for something in particular?" I had assumed she would go to her car, but she was still standing at the edge of the parking lot - really just a wide spot in the road under a couple of trees in front of the restaurant.
"A phone booth." She sounded rather distant.
"Here? In the middle of the woods? What for?" It was beginning to get tiresome, asking all these questions. She would only give out as much information as she absolutely had to. This was incredibly tedious.
"To call a taxi."
"You didn't drive?" She probably flew here on her invisible angel wings. I was getting sarcastic. My patience was finally wearing out. At least she answered me this time.
"I don't have a car."
I just had to laugh. I suddenly remembered the Italian coffee commercial where a handsome man tempts his lovely neighbor with hot cappuccino until she finds out he doesn't have a car and dumps him. I saw the way she was looking at me and stopped laughing. She didn't think it was a bit funny.
"Excuse me," I said, sobered. "I just thought of something..." I considered whether she might accept the offer of a ride. It was possible. Then there was always the question of where I would take her. I might've invited another woman back to my apartment for coffee. But her? And going to her place was out of the question. I chanced it. "Would you accept me as a taxi?"
"You?" She turned her head away from the tree she'd been looking at and toward me.
Perhaps I just wasn't born to be a taxi driver. In any case, she looked at me with disbelief. "Yes, me. I have a car" - I just had to grin at the thought of the Italian, he did it so well - "and I even have it here. You won't believe it."
She stayed cool. "I don't want you to go out of your way for me."
Out of my way? Oh, yeah, she didn't know... "I live right around the corner from you, if that's what you mean," I explained. She obviously wanted to go home. I
What was I supposed to do here without her? She didn't seem to think about the fact that I'd hardly come here to eat alone. I jumped up as she was turning to go. "Wait," I said again quickly.
She stopped for a moment and turned halfway back to look at me. "Please, stay," she said. "I don't want to be responsible for starving you as well." She forced a small smile.
"What's the meaning of this?" Even as I was saying that, she had turned around and started for the exit. I followed her and held her back. "Can't you tell me what the problem is?" She kept walking as if I hadn't said a thing. She ignored me. I would have to provoke her if I wanted an answer. "What's with that woman? Who is she?"
She stopped abruptly. "That's none of your business," she reprimanded me irritably.
So I'd hit the nail on the head. She was the reason. "Maybe not." I wasn't prepared to fight with her. "But was is my business is that I'm standing over here with you instead of sitting comfortably at our table and eating dinner with you. For that I would like an explanation. Even if it has nothing to do with me." She was quite agitated, I noticed. And I was probably irritating her even more. But if she just walked away, that wouldn't do much for me. I'd rather chance the storm.
"You are really..." She didn't say what it was she thought of me. Instead, she took a deep breath. "Okay. You're right. It's unfair. I admit that. Is that enough?"
She suddenly became very cool and calculating again. In that mood, I couldn't hope to get anything out of her. "Would you like to go somewhere else?" I asked, for the second time that evening.
"No," she answered promptly. "That was the mistake. My mistake," she stressed emphatically. "I don't normally go out." That surprised me, given our first encounter. She remembered that and corrected herself. "Almost never. And when I do, I don't go places like this." She glanced around.
"Are you looking for something in particular?" I had assumed she would go to her car, but she was still standing at the edge of the parking lot - really just a wide spot in the road under a couple of trees in front of the restaurant.
"A phone booth." She sounded rather distant.
"Here? In the middle of the woods? What for?" It was beginning to get tiresome, asking all these questions. She would only give out as much information as she absolutely had to. This was incredibly tedious.
"To call a taxi."
"You didn't drive?" She probably flew here on her invisible angel wings. I was getting sarcastic. My patience was finally wearing out. At least she answered me this time.
"I don't have a car."
I just had to laugh. I suddenly remembered the Italian coffee commercial where a handsome man tempts his lovely neighbor with hot cappuccino until she finds out he doesn't have a car and dumps him. I saw the way she was looking at me and stopped laughing. She didn't think it was a bit funny.
"Excuse me," I said, sobered. "I just thought of something..." I considered whether she might accept the offer of a ride. It was possible. Then there was always the question of where I would take her. I might've invited another woman back to my apartment for coffee. But her? And going to her place was out of the question. I chanced it. "Would you accept me as a taxi?"
"You?" She turned her head away from the tree she'd been looking at and toward me.
Perhaps I just wasn't born to be a taxi driver. In any case, she looked at me with disbelief. "Yes, me. I have a car" - I just had to grin at the thought of the Italian, he did it so well - "and I even have it here. You won't believe it."
She stayed cool. "I don't want you to go out of your way for me."
Out of my way? Oh, yeah, she didn't know... "I live right around the corner from you, if that's what you mean," I explained. She obviously wanted to go home. I
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