Romance at my Age - Date Night

The previous entry ended with: 

"Bill reached for my hand as we walked on the red carpet leading to the ornate double doors."

Part Three 

'Casanova’, a Vegas style neon sign flashed across my inner vision as we entered the elegant dining room.  It was obvious Bill was no stranger to this most enticingly romantic setting.  He was warmly greeted as we were ushered directly to a table for two near a flower and plant decked garden.  The waiter poured water into the crystal goblets and asked Bill if he wanted his usual drink, then turned to me. 

"White wine," I responded, wondering what Bill's usual drink was while noticing nods and smiles from people at nearby tables.  It was quite obvious Bill was well known, at least in the restaurant.

He looked at me over the menu, smiled and suggested several items.  "This is one of my favorite places to eat so I can suggest a few items that I think you might enjoy."

What a gentleman, I thought.  The menu was in French and rather than put me in an embarassing position of not knowing what to order, he made it easy for me. 

I thanked him and told him I would trust his judgement.

A small combo played easy listening music in the background.  The ambiance of the room was relaxing.  Voices were subdued, laughter was never loud, and I didn't hear one cell phone the entire evening.

We sipped our drinks, Bill had something on the rocks and then another while I sipped my wine and declined a second.  I felt I needed to keep a clear head in the event he had any more and I might have to drive.  Being older and experienced, one becomes so practical, damn it.

He asked if I prefered fish, chicken or meat, then ordered for both of us in French.  He sounded so elegant.  I was beginning to truly relax.  He was a good conversationalist, talking about some of his adventures in the military, then asking me about my interests.

Several people briefly stopped by the table to say hello and he introduced me.  Everyone seemed delighted to see him and there was warmth in the greetings.

I didn't feel like it had been 40 plus years since I had been on a date.  This was my first since my husband died nearly a year ago.  I felt comfortable.  My fears easing, especially after sipping the wine he ordered with the meal. 

We shared a wonderfully light chocolate dessert and finished what I was pretty sure was an expensive bottle of wine, followed by several cups of strong coffee.

One of the things I liked about about Bill was his thoughtful absorption with me.  I mean even with other people stopping by or waiters and the wine steward hovering, he paid full attention to me.  I felt that he was really enjoying our evening together; that he was enjoying being with me.  I felt it would definetly lead to future dates.  I liked that idea.

He didn't rush our evening.  He was relaxed, seemingly content to sit there and talk.  When it was time to leave I was a bit sad.  Oh yes, I knew the evening didn't have to come to an end.  We could continue it at my house, but did I want to?  Was I ready to go further than dinner?