Joe Del Castillo
Second Date
To Cliff, it was a second date. To Lily, it was a favor.
A week before, after dinner, they had walked along a river shore. He tried to steer her toward a dark cluster of trees but she stopped to gaze at the water. Undaunted, he made several attempts to embrace her, but to his bewilderment, she maneuvered his efforts into a conversation about his deceased mother and her late father. Learning that the parents shared the same resting grounds, and that he avoided visits to his mother, compared with her regular trips to her father, she agreed to see him again if he would drive her to the cemetery. Not what he had in mind, but he’d get to see her again.
Making their way through a landscape of trees and small hills, one strolled through a forest of headstones of different styles and sizes, from modest slabs to pompous monuments, many with statues of weeping angels and sad-eyed cherubs, some dating back over a century.
They came to the ground level marker that stated Margaret Doran, Beloved Wife and Mother.
“Well, here she is,” he said. “I confess, to stand here feels futile. What’s the point? It doesn’t change anything. What do you do?”
Holding a bouquet of violets, she laid one stem across the mound. “I discuss what’s going on.” She swept the dirt around the stone and scattered the leaves. “Hello Mrs. Doran, I’m Lily, Cliff’s friend. We met at a bar recently. Last week, we had dinner. Then he took me down to the river. He works fast. Or tried to.”
“And-I-suppose she’ll talk back to you?”
“She already has. Like most mothers of boys, she believes I’m exaggerating. She wants to know if I’m your girlfriend-which, of course, I’m not. If I said yes, then I’d get the third degree. But that’s how mothers are.” Lily sat down crossing her legs. “Naturally, your mom already likes me and is asking me to give you a chance. She says I’m the one for you. Which, of course, I’m not.”
“I suspect reverse psychology. You’re the one who’s moving fast.”
“From what you told me the other night, I think you’ve repressed your feelings over her passing. She got sick and you couldn’t do anything about it. And it’s causing you guilt because you don’t face it.”
“Lily, you shouldn’t make those conclusions. We don’t really know each other. You’re trying to take charge of this-” He caught himself.
“Of this what?”
“This situation, this relationship.”
“Cliff, we’re not in a relationship. A girl just needs to guard against guys like you.”
“Oh, come on now!”
She pushed her hair back. “Anyway, I can infer things by what you don’t say. I suspect you are like your father. Does he come here?”
“My father? How would you know that?”
“By my senses.”
“Oh brother. I believe he comes more often than he admits. He doesn’t always tell me where he goes. But I don’t tell him everywhere I go either.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. I’m sure you don’t inform him when you take naive, unsuspecting girls to dark secluded shorelines.”
“Are you referring to yourself as naive?”
“Oh not me. But maybe all the others you’ve taken there.”
“Stop it.”
“Ah!” she laughed. “Guilty.”
“I’m just not ready to settle down. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Your mom disagrees. Despite that, she says I’m good for you.”
“Lily, you’re getting carried away. You’re making this up.”
“So I’m not good for you?”
“A trick question. I won’t answer that.”
“Wow. Am I even your type? Does it matter to fast moving guys like yourself?”
“Another trick question. If I say you’re not my type, I’m scum. If I say that you are, then…”
“Then?”
Looking away, he made eye contact with a tarnished sculpture of a weeping angel. “I’d be admitting that I want to see you again.”
Ignoring his comment, she rose swiftly. “It was good to meet you, Mrs. Doran.” She brushed dirt off her jeans. “Let’s go see my dad.”
Arriving at her father’s tablet, she knelt down and placed the flowers in a cup by the stone. “Hey dad, it’s me. Always glad to see you. Mom’s doing good. This is Cliff. He’s got a car, so he drove, which was kind of him. Saved me from making all those bus connections.”
Looking at the ground, she seemed to be listening to a voice. “No, he’s not the guy I’m going to marry. I’m not ready yet. There’s things I want to do.” She tilted her head closer. “Nah, he’s not that good looking. But he does consider himself irresistible.”
Cliff glanced around the cemetery, alarmed that someone might hear this increasingly odd girl talk to the dead.
“He’s here visiting his mother,” she continued. “Perhaps you’ve met her. Her name’s Margaret Doran. I know there’s a lot of people there so maybe not yet.” Lily glanced up. “He has met your mom. Says they’ve become good friends.”
That’s it, he said to himself. No third date with this chick.
“School’s good,” Lily went on.” I’m looking forward to graduation next month.” She kissed her fingertips and tapped them on the stone. “I only wish you could be there.”
She placed her hand on her chin as if in prayer.
Cliff heard the wind blow and felt as if the stone angels were staring at him. “Lily, can we leave now?” She remained focused on the grave. “Lily, are you okay?”
“Cliff, there’s something else. It’s making me scared.” She tried to stand but her legs wobbled. She extended her hand. “Please help me up.”
Once on her feet, she limped to a nearby tree and leaned against it.
“Lily, what’s wrong?”
“My dad and your mother both said we should try to be friends. They say we’re going to need each other.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.”