The Rescue - Nicholas Sparks [82]
She took a shower and shaved her legs, then stood with a towel wrapped around her, trying to decide what to wear. Taylor had said they were going to Fontana, a wonderfully quiet restaurant in the heart of downtown. When she’d asked him what she should wear, he’d said not to worry about it, which didn’t help at all.
She finally decided on a simple black cocktail dress that seemed appropriate for almost any occasion. It had been in the back of her closet for years, still draped in a plastic sheath from a dry cleaner in Atlanta. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn it, but after slipping it on, she was pleased to see that it still fit well. A pair of black pumps came next; she considered wearing black stockings, too, but that idea was dropped as quickly as she’d thought of it. It was too warm a night, and besides, who ever wore black stockings in Edenton, except for a funeral?
After drying and styling her hair, she put on a little makeup, then pulled out the perfume that sat in her bedstand drawer. A little on her neck and hair, then a dab on her wrists, which she rubbed together. In her top drawer she kept a small jewelry box from which she withdrew a pair of hoop earrings.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she evaluated herself, pleased with how she looked. Not too much, not too little. Just right, in fact. It was then that she heard Judy knocking. Taylor arrived two minutes later.
Fontana’s Restaurant had been in business for a dozen years. It was owned by a middle-aged couple originally from Berne, Switzerland, who had moved to Edenton from New Orleans, hoping for a simpler life. In the process, however, they’d also brought a touch of elegance to the town. Dimly lit, with first-rate service, it was popular with couples celebrating anniversaries and engagements; its reputation had been established when an article on the place had appeared in Southern Living.
Taylor and Denise were seated at a small table in the corner, Taylor nursing a Scotch and soda, Denise sipping Chardonnay.
“Have you eaten here before?” Denise asked, scanning the menu.
“A few times, but I haven’t been here in a while.”
She flipped through the pages, unused to so many choices after years of one-pot dinners. “What do you recommend?”
“Everything, really. The rack of lamb is the house specialty, but they’re also known for their steaks and seafood.”
“That doesn’t really narrow it down.”
“It’s true, though. You won’t be disappointed with anything.”
Studying the appetizer listings, she twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers. Taylor watched with a mixture of fascination and amusement.
“Have I told you how nice you look tonight?” he asked.
“Only twice,” she said, playing it cool, “but don’t feel you have to stop. I don’t mind.”
“Really?”
“Not when it comes from a man dressed as spiffy as you.”
“Spiffy?”
She winked. “It means the same thing as goob.”
The dinner that followed was wonderful in every detail, the food delicious and the setting undeniably intimate. Over dessert, Taylor reached for her hand across the table. He didn’t let go for the next hour.
As the evening wore on, they immersed themselves in each other’s lives. Taylor told Denise about his past with the fire department and some of the more dangerous blazes he’d helped to battle; he also talked about Mitch and Melissa, the two friends who’d been with him through it all. Denise shared stories of her college years and went on to describe the first two years she’d spent teaching and how utterly unprepared she’d felt the first time she’d stepped into a classroom. To both of them, this night seemed to mark the beginning of their life as a couple. It was also the first time they’d ever had a conversation in which Kyle’s name never came up.
After dinner, as they stepped out onto the deserted