Part 2: First - Second Dates

{Valerie's Point of View}

At long last, September 7th arrived. I will admit, dear reader, that I was exceedingly distracted at work that day (which was not good--I was teaching a 6-hour seminar the following day that I needed to prepare for!) thinking of my date with James that evening. When I got home, I eagerly primped and got ready, while keeping an eye out the window for James' arrival. Ten minutes before he was due, I saw what I thought was his car pull up. "Wow, he's really early," I thought, and then, "Crap! I'm not ready yet!" But then the car pulled away, so I thought perhaps I'd been mistaken. Precisely ten minutes later, the same car pulled up--and out stepped James. I laughingly realized that he, being who he is, must have come that early to make sure he found my place without mishap, and then drove around until the proper time. That's my James!

I answered the door and took in his appearance--a nice dress shirt, nice jeans, and his (what I realized later) characteristic black cowboy boots. I actually was a bit taken aback by the boots at first, as I had never imagined myself dating the cowboy-type, preferring the intellectual. Fortunately for me, I continued to give James the benefit of the doubt, and soon realized that he is both.

James introduced me to his car, JENNY. You should really hear him say JENNY sometime. Like this:

Speaking for our cars has been a running gag since that time. JENNY has at times been jealous, companionable, protective, smug, condescending, and affectionate toward me. Roxanne, my car, has been the more mild of the two, but she and JENNY have often been at odds, particularly as James and I grew closer, and I began to ride in JENNY more and more often. Poor, neglected Roxanne...

Our date began at Mimi's Cafe in Orem. It took several minutes for us to be seated, and so we sat in the lobby talking. That was probably the only time ever that I have felt awkward talking to James. I suddenly felt the first-date-pressure, like I suddenly had to be wittier and more impressive than usual. Also, politics started to come up--a subject we determined never to let rise between us, a determination we have more or less stuck to.

But once we were seated, things grew more comfortable. The conversation flowed like it had in our previous encounters, which was a relief. James introduced me to liver & onions, and I wasn't much impressed with Mimi's version. James said he would have to make it for me sometime--a promise he kept, thank goodness. At the table, I used pieces of straw wrapper to construct James' name. He tried to do the same for my name, and though his attempt wasn't as pretty as mine, I was still tempted to create an "and" to place between them.

One of the questions James asked me at Mimi's was my favorite food, to which I responded, "Ice cream!" I think he was previously aware of this, but perhaps not of my enthusiasm. So when he took me to Baskin Robbin's after dinner, I was particularly tickled!

We sat talking at Baskin Robbins for quite some time, and then we walked over to the field nearby. James and I concocted the story of that parcel of land, which turned out quite melancholy, as I recall. I wasn't paying the best attention, I'll admit, because at the time, I was trying to also concoct some excuse to stay together longer. I was in no way ready for our date to end, and his plans had clearly reached their conclusion. So when he finished the story, I (rather boldly) invited him to come over to my apartment. I was relieved at his acceptance, because his excitement at the idea was so apparent.

Back at my place, we sat on the couch talking. My roommates each passed through once or twice before settling in upstairs. And then came my next conundrum: how to break the touch barrier? I so wanted to, but it was quickly clear that James wasn't going to do the job, so it was up to me. (Yes, I am exactly this conniving.)

It started with his scars. You see, James has scars on his right hand and the right side of his face, from a fire when he was an infant. So I asked if I could examine the scars on his hand. So I did...at length...cradling his hand in mine...not quite examining after awhile, more...caressing...

I could tell at that point that these physical things were fairly new for James. I knew that he had dated, since coming home from his mission, but I didn't know how much, or how seriously. I figured, at that point, that this might be his first such encounter, or at least, among the first. That brought me a little uncertainty, because I did not want to take advantage of any innocence on James's part. At the same time, his enthusiasm was clear, and I sensed no hesitation from him. So I proceeded.

I don't remember what excuse I used for cuddling with him, but soon I was snuggled up in his arms, right where I wanted to be. I liked it. A lot. Our conversation continued, just as easily as before. It was a great evening, and I was sorry to let him go when the witching hour arrived. James was, in fact, the first person to wish me a happy birthday, when it turned to September 8th, and left me soon thereafter, with a well-wish for the seminar I was teaching (and he attending) in the morning.

The seminar went well, and I tried not to be too hyper-aware of James there. Afterward, much as I had been hoping, James asked me out to lunch. We met at Zupas in Orem, and he presented me with a birthday card. It was signed, "Love, James R. Holley" which I liked very much. :-) Lunch was pleasant, though a little strained by my exhaustion. I think it was also then that we set up our next date for the following Saturday.

I spent most of the day Sunday daydreaming about James, and by Monday had determined that I could not possibly bear waiting until Saturday to spend time alone with him. After classes that evening, I went home. As I started thinking about supper, I impromptu decided to invite him over. I was very anxious over his response, but to my joy, he responded affirmatively and arrived shortly thereafter. I enjoyed cooking for him, and though he did not stay very late, we had a lovely little evening together.

The week dragged by, until finally Saturday arrived. As we had previously determined, we went to the Bombay House, a little Indian restaurant in Provo. We were both much pleased by the lamb curry--the first and definitely not last time we ordered the same thing. (We have very similar tastes, and frequently eat identical meals.) After dinner, we went to Barnes & Noble for hot chocolate. On the way into the store, I randomly reached out and held his hand. His smile was radiant.

Following a long perusal of the bookstore and much conversation about books, we went to James's apartment, for my first time. It was a pretty typical college apartment. As we went into James's room, I remember thinking two things: first, that we were probably breaking the BYU Honor Code, and second, that it was convenient of him to have so few furnishings, since I have so many.

Our conversation flowed naturally. I held his hand some more. And then, so suddenly that I didn't know quite how it had come about, we kissed. I recognized immediately that James was not very experienced at kissing, and was worried that I wouldn't like it. But James is a very quick learner. I'm not saying we made out that night, because we didn't. We quickly returned to talking. But by the time James took me home that evening, I knew without a doubt that things were going somewhere.