As far as first dates go, especially blind dates, I guess you could say my date with Mark was hot. In every sense of the word.
I almost canceled when he called to confirm Saturday morning. Not without good reason, mind you. The weatherman had predicted record breaking heat wave temperatures-- temperatures that had been climbing slowly and steadily all week.
Secondly, well. I didn’t exactly trust Kate’s judgment when it came to men. However, she insisted that Mark was harmless.
"To the point of dull," my lifelong buddy had vowed. Which is what made me agree to meet him.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dull. But I find that dull men are easy to control. Less chance of being hurt or used. Or dumped.
Since I'd been dumped two weeks prior and was still nursing my wounded pride, I thought a dull date with a dull man would be the perfect salve. Mark and I spoke the night before, which was a Friday night. This proved to me that the “dull” description was on target since he wasn’t out on a hot date with anyone. At least I knew I was home simply because being dumped ends you up in that position normally.
Anyway, Mark suggested we do something during the day, like go to a park or museum. I thought a public place in broad daylight would be safe- lots of people in earshot if he tried anything funny. His idea of a blind date was in keeping with the type of person Kate had described. Katie had said she’d only met him twice, at the opening reception of the town’s wildlife center and then again at a fund raising dinner for the center. He’d been polite, but not her type. He was too earthy for her, she had told me.
“Perfect for you,” she had said with an careless shrug.
So that Friday night I agreed to an 11 a.m. rendevouz and gave him directions to my apartment. His voice sounded deep, reflective and thankfully, dull. Just what I wanted.
At 11 a.m. sharp a black 4 x4 ute pulled up at the curb in front of my apartment. Not exactly a dull man’s vehicle. I would have expected a Volvo or maybe a station wagon. I peeked out through my lace curtains and watched as he shut his truck off, took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back. Then he looked at his watch, studied the house for a moment and then got out of his truck.
My heart skipped a beat as I watched him slowly unfold his long body from behind the drivers side door, the top of his head easily clearing the top of the vehicle once he stood up completely. I had to remind myself to breath. He was gorgeous. Clad in a light blue denim pullover shirt, dark blue Levi cutoff's and hiking boots, his dark brown hair pulled taut in a pony tail at his nape, all I could think was “I’m in trouble.”
He was everything I looked for in a man. I will tell you one thing for sure, even then I knew he was definitely not dull.
Introductions were a bit awkward, as expected with blind date introductions. I could feel his warmth as I held the screen door open for him and he entered, our bodies inches apart as he passed by me. We shook hands and I had to remind myself to release my hold on his warm, strong hand. I felt my body fever slightly as he gave my body a quick once over. Then he directed me to change my flat sandals to hiking boots, if I owned a pair.
When I asked why, his answer was simply, “We're going hiking.”
“In this heat?” I responded, a bit surprised.
“You’ll be fine.” was all he answered, the right corner of his mouth drawn up in a boyish lopsided grin.
I changed my clothes from a sleeveless sundress to a pair of khaki shorts, a white cotton sleeveless button down blouse, knee high socks and my boots. I threw my sneakers in the back of his truck in case we chose to change plans at the last minute.
“What about water?”
“Got it.”
“Where are we going?” I got a bit nervous as I buckled my seat belt.
Strange man, strange vehicle, no clue as to what my destiny held.
“There’s a county reserve out east just before the north fork. I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while. I hear there are some plovers and terns nesting there. And a pond stocked full of tiger salamanders.”
I just smiled and looked out the window. Earthy, not dull.
We walked for nearly two hours. I was parched, tired and a bit annoyed that Mark was so congenial while at the same time so controlling and assertive. Not to mention in shape, gorgeous and funny.
He was anything but dull.
We hiked side by side for most of the afternoon. If the paths got narrow I’d drop behind a step or two, staring at the backpack that carried a lunch he’d packed, bottles of water and a sheet- for lunching on, he had explained.
His shoulders were squared, his hips narrowed. His butt looked nice and firm. His legs were long and muscular, fitting snugly within his jeans. . Every now and then he’d pause abruptly to inform me of a rare plant, a type of tree. Or he’d hear a chirp or a peep and look in that direction, waiting silently, patiently. The noise would come again and he would smile and call out the breed of bird, studying the brush until his eyes fell upon the immobile feathered form.
When he spotted frogs he called out to me that water should be up ahead. And I believed him. It was a lovely creek, bubbling down a sloping bit of land, thick brush on both sides for a long while. He walked down river until we came to a grassy clearing. Here the late day sun fell warm and inviting across the river bank.
Mark stood on the riverbank for a few moments, listening to the gurgling water, reveling in the warm embrace of the sun on his forearms and face. I stood there silently, waiting patiently for him to finish communing, hoping it would come before I collapsed from thirst.
As if reading my mind he shrugged out of his back pack, tossing it to me before he squatted to study the dirt at his feet. “Deer watering hole,” he said as he looked up at me, squinting beneath the sun. “Cool,” I said, more interested in the contents of the backpack at the moment.
“Katherine said you were interested in conservation,” he said with a frown.
I had found the canteen and was pouring water down my throat as he spoke. I gulped and brought my head up right to stare at him. “What the hell would she tell you that for?”
He shrugged and grabbed the back pack out of my hands. “Let’s eat.”
I laid out the sheet, a grey clothe with geometric designs splattered in black and lavender and white. He pulled out a block of cheese, a small loaf of bread, water and what I guessed to be two mangoes. He had even brought napkins.
The block of cheese was consumed at his pace. He allowed me to do nothing but put food in my mouth. He ate like a human being, not a pig like every other male I dated. He dressed conservatively, but not as conservatively as my grandfather. He talked, but did not drone on endlessly. When he did speak, he didn’t ridicule me or make me feel inferior, even though it was becoming increasingly clear that Katherine had brought us together under false pretenses.
