A Midwinter Night's Drink

Max needed a date, and a bowl of hot soup. The latter would be easy to acquire, the former not so much. He had spent a long day at sea, plying the farm waters for mussels, black gold he called them, and wanted nothing more than to find a quiet restaurant in which to eat and unwind, preferably while looking out over the night-time surf. The hiss and rumble of crashing waves on shingle threatened to pull Max to sleep before he found his meal, yet before long a soft orange glow from a small restaurant spilled out onto the cobbled street ahead, beckoning Max with the promise of warmth and hot food.

He opened the door and stepped inside, unaware and unconcerned over his dishevelled state, with wild long hair in frayed disarray, encrusted sea-salt covered his rough beard, and his clothes were fit for a man on shore leave after a month at sea. His cargo trousers were wrinkled and faded, his cotton jumper smelled richly of ozone, and his shoes were battered beyond any semblance of style. Max didn’t care, he was young, his good looks made up for rugged dress.

Inside, a waitress approached Max and he flicked a cursory glance her way but made no attempt at eye contact.

She smiled, “Please follow me sir.” Her tone held a distinct note of sympathy for a weather-beaten man off the street.

She walked him to a table with two chairs near the fire, where it was warmest. He sat down in one while the other remained empty. Max suddenly realised the young woman hadn’t moved away, her form was still in his periphery, it took him a moment to understand she was waiting for his order, so he picked up the menu and pointed at the day’s special with a grunt. The girl wrote on her notepad.

“Coming right up.” She walked away towards the kitchen.

It didn’t take long for his order to arrive, pumpkin soup, rich and creamy. The waitress placed it on the table then stood back, Max nodded without looking up and she walked away to serve elsewhere. Something in the back of his mind told him he had missed an ideal opportunity for human connection, he shrugged inwardly, uncaring, and ate in silence.

The Next Day

As dark clouds gathered to obscure the sun, leaving the Cornish seaside village in cold shade, Max arrived at the restaurant for a late lunch. He had returned to port early and managed a shave and a shower, hoping to look a little better today. Inside he was greeted by the same waitress, Max glanced her way as he did the night before and she walked him to his new favourite spot, right beside the fire. Max sat and picked up the menu then pointed at the mushroom soup, she jotted it down and walked away, her faint perfume smelled of vanilla.

As Max sat wondering how he might grab the girl’s attention, even if only to learn her name, she returned with his order and placed it before him. Then when she turned to leave her long white sleeve caught on his silverware, which fell and clattered to the floor. She and Max instinctually bent to pick up the cutlery, bumping their heads together in the progress. Shocked, they both looked up, straight into one another’s eyes, inches apart. Max barely registered his throbbing head, the girl’s eyes were scintillating, blue and green swirling in combination, he was mesmerised. She smiled and apologised, seeming to find it as difficult as him to break their gaze.

She had golden hair flowing into a ponytail, her face blushed red at the cheeks and faint lines at the corners of her mouth from an easy smile. She was perfect.

“You’re beautiful.” Max blurted out, shocked at his own confidence.

She didn’t seem to mind, “Thank you, what’s your name?”

“Max.”

“I’m Olivia, do you come here after work?”

Max smiled, “Yeah, I help farm mussels.”

“Ooh, I love mussels! There’s a nice seafood restaurant nearby I’ve been meaning to visit.”

“That sounds lovely.” Max didn’t notice his chance to ask her to dinner.

Olivia found a spoon from an empty table and placed it by his bowl, “Okay well, nice to meet you Max, perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.” He said with a smile.

The Following Evening

Max halted at the front door of the restaurant and took two deep breaths of the night-time sea air. I’ll ask her to dinner, we’ll enjoy one another’s company, who knows where it may lead? Max had transformed, his hair was blow dried and silky, unruly yet handsome, his face was fresh shaved and moisturised. A bespoke dark navy-blue suit fit his figure as if it had been tailor made, with silver cufflinks and a silver watch on his wrist, his jacket casually unbuttoned. Matching Oxford’s adorned his feet and he wore a faint cologne of grapefruit, mint, and sandalwood, lightly applied. He stepped inside.

Scanning the crowd of faces for the waitress amidst them, he gasped when he saw Olivia seated at a table and just as richly dressed. A slim figure fitting burgundy dress flowed across her body, her lips a matching ruby. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a golden cascade and shined just as bright where he noticed diamond earrings sparkled like silver stars at her ears.

Max was speechless, but as fast as his elation had swept through him, so too it died in a wave of despair which crossed his features. A man sat opposite her, his back to Max, he was nicely dressed and something he said made Olivia laugh. Max’ gut wrenched. Finally, when he saw the man lean over the table to place a tender kiss on her forehead, Max turned around, and left.

Two Nights Later

“What happened mate!?”

“Nothing, just drop it.” Max told his friend as they worked to sweep the deck of their boat while the sun set below the horizon.

“You told me you were going to ask her out.”

“I was.”

“Something obviously happened lad.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, whatever it was, go back and ask her on the damn date.”

“I can’t.”

“You can and you will. Tonight, or you’ll be the loser we knew you were all along.” The man gave Max a smile to soften the insult.

Max shook his head and mulled it over.

That same night, Max entered the restaurant for dinner, but this time he had no care for his appearance, nor whether Olivia was working. At least, that’s what he told himself. Inside Olivia immediately walked over to him with a friendly smile as he met her gaze, then her brow furrowed, possibly surprised at Max’ state of dress. His hair was dishevelled, his beard growing thick and ungroomed, and he wore old, creased clothing beneath a battered rain jacket he wore at work.

“My usual spot please.”

She was silent as she led him to the fire, he sat and pointed at the menu with a grunt. Olivia seemed hesitant, then left with pursed lips, confused by his change in attitude after their last encounter.

A few minutes later she returned to place a wine glass before him and popped the bottle he had ordered.

“Can I get you anything else Max?”

He shook his head without meeting her gaze, she walked away. Max sat back and brought the glass of merlot to his lips, emotions warred within him, jealousy prime among them and a sense of stupidity and resentment toward himself for trying to break out of his shell. He couldn’t drink, the restaurant buzzed with the conversations of loving couples and close families, Max got up, taking the glass and bottle with him, and left.

Max stepped onto the beach, the gravel crunching beneath his fisherman’s boots, when he heard a shout behind him. He turned to find Olivia striding his way.

She spoke first, “Max, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” He replied tersely.

She put her hands on her hips.

Max broke the minute of silence, “I thought I would see you the other night.”

“I was there Max, waiting.”

“Yeah at a table with another man. I thought. . . I thought maybe he was your partner, so I left.”

She shook her head in amazement at his misunderstanding, “That was my Dad you dolt.”

Max opened his mouth but all that came out was, “Oh.” He really was an idiot.

Olivia smiled at his expression, “I saw you, you know. You looked. . . suave, stunning actually.”

“As did you Olivia, my stomach flipped.” He thought a moment, “Wait, you saw me?” He had no idea she noticed his entrance.

“Yes, but you turned around and left before I could get out of my chair.”

After a moment’s thought Max said, “Olivia, would you like to go eat mussels with me at that restaurant you told me about?”

“I would love to.” She beamed, “Hang on, did you take those from the restaurant?” She said pointing to the glass and bottle in his hand.

Max gave her a goofy smile, “Would you like to share some wine with me?”

“Right here on the cobbles?”

“As good a spot as any.” He replied. “Oh, I don’t have a second glass.”

“That’s okay, we can share.”

The stars shone bright through the velvet carpet of sky above and waves sighed along the bay. Max and Olivia became lost in one another’s conversation, sitting close against the chill, thigh against thigh, arm against arm, wetting their lips with rich merlot and laughing unabashedly long into the night.