“Thanks. I need it.”
“You really don’t. She’s already crazy about you. Just be yourself and don’t drink too much. Maybe one glass of wine at dinner. Keep your low tolerance in check.”
“I will,” she said, laughing, and heard the door to the guest room open. “She’s here,” she whispered.
“She’s not a horror movie villain. Just hang up on me and get dressed. Let the girl pick you up. Go on your date.”
“Bye.”
Larissa hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed.
After finding a suitable sweater in red, because Harlow’s favorite color was red, she dressed and tried to do something with her hair, leaving it down to frame her face. Harlow was in the next room. Well, she could be in the bathroom, Larissa supposed, but she was in the house, and they were going on a date tonight.
When they had left the office last night, she had driven home slowly to allow Harlow to get home first and tuck herself away inside her bedroom. Then, she’d done the same in her own room, but with every second that had passed, she’d felt like she missed her and wanted to talk to her. She talked to Harlowevery single day, in one way or another, and had for years, but she had smiled and stared at her phone, typing and not sending text messages where she would tell Harlow that she was happy that they were finally doing this and that she was excited. She’d resisted actually sending anything and had put her phone away eventually, needing to get some work done and get some sleep, too.
That morning, she’d stayed in her room until after Harlow had to leave for work, as per their agreement, but it had taken everything in her not to go out to the kitchen and make Harlow coffee, breakfast, and maybe lunch. She’d only resisted because it had been important to Harlow to pick her up like it was a real date, which it was, of course, and if they weren’t living together right now, Larissa wouldn’t have been able to wake up and make her coffee anyway.
She heard Harlow’s bedroom door open and close, and then, seconds later, she heard footsteps moving farther away from her. Larissa checked herself one more time in the mirror, slipped on her shoes, and grabbed her purse before she opened the door, checked that Harlow wasn’t in the hallway, and slowly made her way to the living room. Making sure that Harlow wasn’t there, either, she stood and waited nervously. When the doorbell rang, Larissa smiled, dropped the smile, and turned around in the middle of the room for no reason before she finally remembered that she had to actually open the door for their date to begin.
“Okay. Don’t be nervous. It’s just Harlow. You’ve seen her hungover, with a Kleenex stuffed up her nose after she ran into the wall and nearly broke the thing. It’s good. It’s all good.” She took a deep breath, walked to the door, took another breath for good measure, and pulled it open. “Hi,” she greeted with a wide smile.
“Hey,” Harlow said back.
They stared at each other for a solid thirty seconds and then both started laughing.
“Wow! We’re doing great so far.” Harlow chuckled.
“Yeah. Why is this so weird?”
“I don’t know, but my hands are clammy as hell, and I have been sweating profusely all day. I had to take a quick shower just now because I’m sure I smelled bad, and that would’ve been the worst way to start a date. Here.” Harlow held up a single red rose. “For you.”
“Thank you. Do you want to come in so that I can put it in water?”
“I just left.” Harlow laughed again.
“I know. Just… come back in for a second. I’ll put it in a glass, and we can go.”
When Harlow walked in, Larissa looked down because Harlow had also taken her hand and was now holding it with both of hers, looking down at them linked.
“I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“Do what?” Larissa asked.
“Take your hand like I had the right to. I mean, like we were doing this. Dating or more, or–”
“I get it,” she said, hopefully helping the nervous Harlow. “You’re cute when you’re nervous, you know?”
“I’ve never been so nervous in my life, not even when I was on that road trip around the country, and the car broke down in the middle of nowhere. The only one who stopped to help was a trucker named Earl, and I was terrified that he was a serial killer, and I was about to die.”
“You’re more nervous about this thanthat?”
Harlow looked back up at her and nodded.
“Earl was nice. He had some antifreeze with him to get us back on the road, so that worked out, and we didn’t end up deadin a ditch somewhere. Oh, never tell my mother that story. She’ll kill me herself if she hears it.”
Larissa laughed and said, “I won’t. I’m going to put the flower in water now, but you can hold my hand after that, if you want.”
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Harlow laughed nervously.
