Sid leads me to a table by one of the windows. A view of the harbour stretches out next to us, broken up by tracks of rain streaming down the glass. I can’t resist pressing a hand to the cold, clear surface, leaving a filmy handprint behind. I’ve never seen a sheet of glass this large and intact before.
A waiter comes to drop off menus, and it feels even more like a storybook. Everything is magical and perfect right up until I open the menu.
“Holy shit! They’re chargingwhatfor a salad?”
“Now you know why we don’t do this very often,” says Sid, picking up his copy.
“We should go.” Seeing the place is good enough for me. It’s lovely to know restaurants exist. But Sid covers my wrist with his hand, stopping my attempt to run out the door.
“Let me treat you. Please. I want to watch you try something new.”
“So you brought me here for your own entertainment?”
“Something like that. You ever had oysters before?”
“Of course I’ve had oysters. Nasty as hell. But… they keep you alive.”
“Hmm, okay. Bad pick. Oh! Pickled beets. I’m guessing you’ve never had pickled beets.”
“You’re suggesting the gross stuff, aren’t you?”
“I happen tolikepickled beets. I’m going to order some, and you can try them if you want.” He throws me a wink and my cheeks warm.
“French fries,” I say, stabbing my finger on one of themenu entries. “I’ve never had French fries. Or a burger. Those are supposed to be good.”
“Perfect! You can put pickled beets on a burger.”
“Sid!”
For all my protesting, when the food arrives, he turns out to be right. I hadn’t tried pickled beets before and while I won’t be rushing out to blow what little money I have on another taste, they’re a pleasant mix of sweet and sour. What really impresses me are the French fries, which are oily and salty to the point of decadence. Sid also lets me try his fish tacos and the tangy coleslaw they come with.
It’s everything I could hope for from my first trip to a restaurant. Delicious food, a seaside view… and a handsome guy to share it with. I’ve officially decided I prefer Sid’s hair after the rain. I don’t know why he bothers slicking it back. There’s a natural wave that comes out in the wet weather. If we were actually in love, I would run my fingers through it.
I get why people used restaurants for courtship in the past. Sid Charles has never looked better than he does lavishing me with an expensive meal. But it’s not just that. I’ve never seen him smile so much before. His cockeyed grin is out in full force as I take in every new experience. When I ask him what he’s so giddy about, he only shrugs.
“I like seeing you so happy. Makes me remember what it was like when I first got to Salt Spring.”
Although he’s not totally trustworthy. Once I admit to liking the pickled beets, he asks our waiter to bring over some horseradish. And I—being an absolute fool—stick a spoonful in my mouth without a second thought. He laughs his head off as I gag down a full glass of water.
“I am gonna kill you for that,” I wheeze, once my mouth is no longer burning.
“Oh, come on. Now you know, you can try the same trick on April.”
“Are you kidding? Shewouldkill me. You know… she’ll be crushed when she finds out I came here without her.”
“She’ll have lots of chances to experience places like this,” says Sid. “I’m glad it’s just us. You were right. We needed this.”
We. That word sends a strange buzz through me and I’m suddenly aware of his knees brushing mine beneath the table. I haven’t said it out loud, because calling attention to it would only make things weird, but the longer we spend together, the more undeniable it is. This is my first date. Even if there are complicated reasons behind it, all the key ingredients are here.
Delicious food. Seaside view. Handsome man.
I’m enjoying myself, but the realization still hurts. I’ve been in love before, but what I shared with Curtis was simple and instinctual. There were no grand gestures. No wooing. We missed out on so many experiences. Now I can only wonder: is this what the real thing would have felt like? I try to picture a day like this, perfect in all the same ways today is perfect, but with Curtis instead. I can’t quite do it. Too much of what I’m enjoying is thanks to Sid.
“You okay?” Sid’s voice pulls me back to the present.
“Oh… yeah. I’m good.”
“I’m sorry about the horseradish.”
