Page 47 of Keeping Denver

"Saturday, at seven?" he asks hopefully.

I nod. "Okay."

18

It's a Saturday night, and I'm getting ready for my date with Callan. It has been three days since our talk in his car, and every day since he has called me. Callan and I both acknowledged this was the part of our relationship we had skipped over. We are getting to know each other. We spend hours on the phone. A smile tugs at my lips as I slip on my heels. We've talked about everything. I've opened up to him a little more about my past and my time in foster care, and listened to him tell me countless stories about his mom. Getting to know the man behind the suit, and him the woman behind the duct-taped shoes is giving us a solid foundation to move forward with our relationship. My head still has a little catching up to do, and Callan realizes it will take time, but my heart, without a doubt, never stopped loving him.

The sound of the doorbell brings me out of my thoughts. Stepping in front of the floor-length mirror, I take in my reflection and hope Callan likes it as much as I do. I found the dress for a steal at a vintage thrift shop Frances introduced me to. After work yesterday she insisted on taking me shopping for a new dress for my date. Frances was so excited, I agreed. I'm glad I did. Frances and I have formed a bond. She, in a way, is like the mother I never had. It feels good having that kind of motherly love. It makes me feel special. Frances cried when I told her as much.

Twirling, I admire the way the dress fits my body. It's a simple black lace, off the shoulder, knee length, cocktail dress. The red peep-toe heels, I paired with it, give the outfit the perfect pop of color. There's a knock on the bedroom door, followed by Frances peeking her head in.

"Hey, Denver. Callan is downstairs," Frances says just before she takes in my dress, and her eyes light up. "Oh! I knew this was going to look stunning on you."

"Thanks." I smooth my palms down the front.

"Oh!" Frances claps her hands. "Wait here, dear. I have just the thing to go with this beautiful dress. I'll be right back."

Frances dashes out of the room and returns a minute later, holding a square black velvet box in her hand. Standing in front of me, she opens it revealing a pair of ruby earrings. I gasp, placing my hand over my mouth. "Frances, no. I couldn't possibly wear these." The sparkle from the small diamonds surrounding the ruby hypnotizes me. Frances takes the earrings from the box and proceeds to put them on me.

"Of course you can. These earrings belonged to my mother. And my grandmother before her. My mother gave them to me when I was twenty years old as I was getting ready for my first date with Richard. She told me to give them to my daughter when she went on her first date with the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with." Frances' voice trembles as she talks. "I think of you as a daughter, Denver." She turns me, so I'm facing the mirror. My eyes meet her kind ones in our reflection. She squeezes my shoulder. "I would be honored if you allow me to pass such a gift down to you, so long as you continue the same tradition with your first daughter." Butterflies swarm in my tummy, and my heart swells at the thought of having children with Callan.

Turning, I hug Frances. "I'd be honored to wear them and carry on the tradition." I wipe the tears falling down my face.

"Come on, dear. No more tears, or you're going to ruin your makeup." Frances ushers me along. "Come on. We don't want you to be late for your dinner reservation." I follow Frances out of the bedroom. As I make my way down the stairs, my eyes go straight to Callan's. The moment my foot touches the last step, he smiles. "I'm a lucky son of a bitch."

Richard strolls into the living room where Callan is standing. "What's this I hear about you wanting to take my Denver on a date?"

Callan's lip twitches as he respectfully plays along. "Yes, Sir. I'm taking my girl out on the town."

"And what time do you plan on having her home?"

"I don't know, Richard. I hadn't planned that far ahead." Callan never takes his eyes off me.

"I'll plan for you then, Son. I want Denver back home by ten o'clock." Callan tries to suppress a smirk, while I try to hide my giggle.

"Richard. What in the Sam hell are you doing?" Frances chastises her husband. "Let them be."

"Woman, don't ruin my fun. I never got to play this part before," Richard playfully warns his wife, and tugs her into his side. Frances loses her scowl, and my heart warms at how much he wants to look out for me.

Callan crosses the room, taking me by the hand. His touch is feeding the spark and igniting a flame. My entire body comes to life, and I interlock my fingers with his.

"Hold up!" Richard pipes up. "Let me go upstairs and get my shotgun. Then I can start over and do this right." Richard turns on his heel.

"He's not serious, is he?" I laugh as I watch Richard retreat up the stairs.

Frances gives me a look. "Oh, he's dead serious. The old coot has lost his mind. You two kids get on out of here before he comes back. There's no telling what other shenanigans that man has up his sleeves." She does her best to look serious, but laughter overtakes her on her final words. "You'd better hurry."

Mitch is waiting for us next to Callan's car the moment we step out into the cold night air. "Good evening, Denver."

"Hi, Mitch." I smile as he opens the car door. Callan stops me before I climb in. Slipping his arm around my waist, he pulls my body flush against his. "You steal my breath away." His lips hover above mine.

"Thank you."

"I know it's customary to wait until the end of the date to ask for a kiss." Callan's eyes fall to my red-painted lips. "But, I'd very much like to kiss you now." His minty breath mixes with mine, waiting for me to say yes.

I lick my lips. "Okay," is the only word I can produce at the moment, and Callan's lips press softly against mine. The kiss is understated, yet passionate. The way a kiss on the first date should be.

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