This Could Be The Perfect Fit: Where We Started, part 3

Tell me that it's madness to want something quite like this

But they don't understand the magic that I can't resist

Oh, and wouldn't it be so tragic if everything just went amiss

And this could be the perfect fit

—"Perfect Fit," written and performed by Van Morrison

Poor Christine sounded so flustered when she called me on her way to Johnnie's! I stayed on the line until she arrived, helping guide her back to the restaurant lot. And yes, those first minutes when we were waiting on the sandwiches were awkward--it's kinda hard to read someone's expressions when you can only see half their face, plus, y'know, the whole first date jitters thing.

All of that melted away after we got to the park--blanket down, food out, masks off. There's the Christine whose profile got my attention. I can't contain a smile when she takes a big bite of that hot pastrami and comes up grinning. We start sharing stories about our families, our adventures, our photography, and that leads to sharing our photos. We scooch closer to each other, so we don't have to crane to see the phone screens. We wind up sitting side by side, and somewhere in the middle of my pics from a trip to the Galápagos Islands two years ago, I can feel Christine snuggle right up next to me with her head on my shoulder.

And it...it just feels...right.

I know I wrapped my free arm around her waist to keep her close. I think I might've kissed the top of her head? I dunno, I was too caught up in a wave of warm fuzzies. This is chemistry. This is more than contentment. This is happiness. This is something I want to hang on to for the rest of the day, maybe longer. The rest of the city, of the world, fading out of focus for as long as we're there. I'm hooked.

Alas! She's going swimming in Long Beach later, so I can't keep her much longer. We bundle up our leftovers, head back to our cars, and I ask sweetly, but awkwardly, "Would I be out of line if I kissed you goodbye?"

A kiss through the masks will have to do for now. But! The feeling is mutual! We both want to see each other again! We bid farewell and drove off. I've got this big dumb grin plastered across my face the whole way back to the Valley.

Get home, check my calendar--wait a minute, I'm free that coming Friday. I thought I was booked. Hallelujah! My next texts:

"So, uh, if you're feeling impatient about seeing this goofy, charming rogue again... Because he'd very much like to see you if you're up for it."

The wait for that response was agonizing...