For lack of a better idea, I decided to go to Amanda's house and wait for her to show up.  I'm not even sure how she got home.  I'm hoping that is where she went.  I suppose she could have gone someplace else all together.  The question is where would she go when upset.  But I suppose she has to go home sometime, so if she isn't there now, she will be.

The house is dark, although there is a small light upstairs from Dotty's room, so I suspect she's upstairs reading.  I don't see Amanda at all, though.  She may already be in bed, but I don't think she had that much of a head start on me, so I'm going to take my chances and wait for her in the gazebo.

I'm not sure what to say when I do see her.  'Sorry Charlene showed up and ruined our dinner.  The dinner you were clearly not enjoying anyway.'  Somehow that does not seem like the right thing to say.

Or I could start with 'Sorry Charlene showed up before we could discuss my calling my girlfriend Amanda.'  That discussion was going so well before Charlene showed up and plopped herself in my lap.  Of all nights for one of my… I'm not even sure what to call them.  Previous dates?  Well, whatever.  Of all nights for Charlene to show up!  And then the way she treated Amanda.  What did I ever see in her?

The better question is what did I ever see in any of them?  It's strange how quickly my outlook has changed, but I look back on my life two years ago and I don't recognize that man.  Now, I'd much rather have dinner with Amanda than end up back at my place with someone like Charlene.  It's so much more relaxing.  There's no pressure.  Amanda doesn't want me to be anyone other than myself.

That's what was so great about Leslie.  She was like that, too.  But somehow, it wasn't right.  It felt forced.  I knew it did, and clearly so did she, because when I came back that night she was gone.  A nice note thanking me for the dress and saying she hoped I had enjoyed dinner was awaiting me, but no Leslie.

And I can't say I was disappointed.  Well, maybe a little.  But, well, I was worried.  Had Leslie been waiting for me, it was clear where the night would have gone.  And truthfully, I wasn't ready.  Somehow, that felt important with Leslie – to reach that point.  And we hadn't yet.  We'd stayed out late before, very late, but never shared anything more intimate than a few good night kisses.

The whole relationship was foreign to me.  And nice.  Different, but in a way that was much more relaxing and … well, fun.

"Lee?" the soft voice startles me, and looking up I see Amanda standing at the edge of the gazebo looking surprised to see me.

"I'm sorry for that back there, Amanda.  I didn't expect to bump into Charlene and then …" I trail off, trying to interpret the look in her eyes, but I can't and feeling awkward I continue.  "And then things got so out of hand."

She smiles, but it's not a smile I've seen before.  Somehow more sardonic.  But she sits down besides me, and that's a start.

"It's okay," she reaches over to take my hand in hers and while I know it's meant to be a gesture of reconciliation, I tighten my grip on her hand, so she can't take it back.  "I think I needed that," she continues.

I look at her quizzically, but she's not looking at me.  She's looking at the ground.  "Needed what?"

"That.  Charlene.  The whole thing – the way she just came up and sat in your lap, the way she made it clear that she couldn't fathom that we'd be together.  Just, that."

I still don't understand what she's getting at, and am about to say so when she says, "Lee, we have to talk," in that way that makes it clear I'm not going to like what comes next.  And if that isn't clear enough, she is slowly pulling her hand out of my grasp.

She turns, slightly, to face me but then promptly looks back down, now at the small amount of bench between us.

"You asked me at dinner if I heard you call Leslie my name.  And I did.  And I guess it's made things awkward…" she trails off as she looks up and catches sight of my eyes.  Amanda can read me better than anyone, and so it's no surprise that she can see the mixture of embarrassment and guilt I'm feeling now.

She places a hand just above my knee and in a low voice says, "You shouldn't feel guilty, Lee.  The truth is that things were awkward before that.  This just sort of rushed the process further along."

I smile at her, grateful for letting me off the hook, but I know that it's unfair.  Things were just fine until the first time I came into work after a late night.  Francine made that ridiculous comment.  And I knew Amanda came to the logical conclusion.  It was wrong, of course.  But I didn't correct it.

"No.  I mean, yes, you're right.  Things were awkward before that, but that's my fault, too."

Amanda sighs and she sounds vaguely exasperated with me.  "No, it's not, Lee," she says, the irritation coming through clearly.

Then she looks right at me, her eyes clear and determined.  "Can I talk for a few minutes without interruption?" she asks, but then goes on before I can answer.  "I need to say something that's going to be difficult to say and I don't think I can get it out if you stop me."

My heart speeds up a tiny bit, already nervous about she's going to say.  Is she going to quit?  Tell me we need to stop being friends?  Working together?  Chatting in our spare time?  What?  And for fear that my voice may crack if I reply, I nod my head.

Amanda begins again, her voice clear, but quickly trails off to a soft voice.  One I haven't heard from Amanda before, and I find I need to strain to hear her.

"I don't know how to say this, except to come out and say it.  The reason you calling Leslie Amanda made things awkward is the same reason things were awkward after you came in that day that Billy started the spring cleaning.  I know I shouldn't have, but …" she pauses, but I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to stay quiet longer.  "But we'd been spending so much time together lately, outside of work.  And I started to think, or let myself believe…  Well, that's not true.  I always knew it wasn't true.…  I feel…" Her voice trails off and her next ones are, remarkably, even softer.  "I'm attracted to you.  Very much so.  And I guess with us spending so much time together, I deluded myself a little into thinking you felt the same way." 

She stops again, and maybe I'm allowed to talk now, but I can't.  I find myself taking deep breathes, trying to focus on her words despite the pounding of my heart in my ears.  I'm not sure what the appropriate response to this is.

"Having Charlene show up tonight," she goes on, her voice slightly stronger now, "just reminded me how ridiculous that was."

She stops again, looking at the ground once more, but I'm not any surer what to say, what I feel.  I guess that's the problem with being with someone who expects you to be you.

But maybe I do know what the right response is.  Why Leslie felt so right and yet so forced.  And so in a blind flash, I know precisely what to do.  Leaning over, I place my fingers under Amanda's chin and lift her head up.  For the second time tonight, I can see tears in her eyes, but this time I'm not so concerned.  Leaning over, I capture her lips with mine.  I startle her, that's clear.  She doesn't close her eyes as I come toward her and she takes an involuntary gasp of air just before we touch.  But in a moment I can feel her leaning against me, her lips moving beneath mine, her hands on my collar, and then as I feel her tongue brush against mine, I hear a soft moan.  And realize that it was me.

We break apart, Amanda looking a little wide eyed, me focusing on trying to catch my breath.  That was… well, amazing.  It's not like we've never kissed before, but never without an audience – an audience that necessitates it.  And Amanda has never responded like that before.

She gets up and I look at her surprised.  She looks at me sheepishly.  "Thank you, Lee.  That was sweet.  But I'd rather not pretend anymore.  Good night," and she moves towards the house.

"Amanda!" I call out, suddenly sure that if she leaves things will only get worse and she'll never know that I wasn't pretending.  She stops, but doesn't turn around.  "I wasn't pretending," I tell her back and she turns toward me, although looks quickly away.  Trying to hide the hope written so clearly on her face, no doubt.

I walk toward her, putting my hands on her shoulders.  "After you left, do you know what I told Charlene?" I ask her, but she doesn't respond.  "I told her that I'd rather spending an evening with you than with her any day."

She raises her eyes to me, smiling slightly.

I move my hands down to hers and pull her back to the bench.  "Amanda, I'd rather spend an evening talking to you than with Charlene or anyone else for that matter.  Heck, I'd rather spend an evening working with you than on a date with anyone else.…  And I guess that is why I called Leslie Amanda.  I thought she was what I was looking for.  I really did.  But I guess only because she reminded me so much of you.  And so it felt forced.  Because I was trying to force it to be like it is with you.  But it wasn't."  Despite the fact that my palms are sweating while I speak, I manage to look at her and smile.  "I'm so glad it wasn't."

And then before she has a chance to reply, I kiss her again.  I think we've done enough talking for tonight.

The End