First & Last

The silver haired woman waited patiently at the table, menu in hand. How much time had passed? She looked at her wrist, then remembered that she intentionally left her watch on the dresser at home. It's the only one she owned, and it clashed with the outfit she had planned for the evening. A white leather band, and she really wanted to wear a nice maroon blouse that was collecting dust in her closet. "When did I buy that" she thought to herself. It must have been a while ago. But she really liked it, the light fringes on the sleeves made her feel younger. How old was she these days? Hard to keep track of it.

Her mind wouldn't stop spinning. "He should be here by now, shouldn't he? We did say seven. Or was it eight? What time is it now? Oh, I knew I should've worn the watch. I might have the wrong day!" She tried to take a few deep breaths to calm the nerves, with minimal success. It'd been so long since she went out on a proper first date. Harry had come to the home every day to visit her, and they had hit it off from the get go. She still remembered how he walked right in, fidgeting with his tortoiseshell glasses all the way up to the front desk and spoke to the receptionist. The slight balding around his forehead didn't detract from his handsomeness though. She couldn't make out exactly what he was saying to her, but she heard one phrase like a a note played in a cathedral; "I'm looking for a Samantha Aster." "That's me!" The man turned to see the silver-haired woman, and she instantly fell for his kind, dark brown eyes that crinkled when he saw her.

So lost was she in this memory, that she lost focus on where she was. And then; "Samantha?" She was instantly snapped back to the waking world and greeted by a tall man in a grey sport coat, slightly balding on the forehead. He wore a navy blue surgical mask with a gingham pattern on it, but that was ok. Seemed like everybody was wearing them these days. Regardless, it didn't detract from his brown eyes, and those deep lines that framed them. She knew exactly who this was. "Harry!" She bolted out of her seat to give him a big hug. At first, Harry seemed a little taken aback, but reciprocated it with equal tenderness. Samantha pulled back, arms still draping his neck. "I hope you're ok with this," she said through a muffled face mask. "It's just that I've been wanting to do that for so long. Hug someone, that is," she quickly corrected, feeling her face getting warm under the mask. "Not that I don't want to hug you, of course I do- wha- what I mean to say is- I can't remember the last time I had any physical contact with a person... did I already ruin the date?" "No, no," Harry said, chuckling. His hands were still gripping her waist. "Not at all. Let's sit and take these things off." His wink was almost undetectable.

Harry went around and pulled Samantha's chair out for her as she sat, then went around to the other side and took his mask off before placing the silverware napkin on his lap. Samantha took note of how the wrinkles on Harry's face were not as deep as the ones around his eyes, indicating that he smiled a lot. "Thank you for agreeing to come out tonight," he said. "I know you're probably busy." "Oh, please. All you're doing is keeping me from watching Friends for the eighth or ninth time. Gotta say though, the jokes are still as fresh as the first time." He chuckled. "But it is strange that you would ask me out so suddenly after one conversation. And how did you know me by name to the lady at the front desk?" Harry shrugged. "Call it destiny. You seem like a wonderful woman, and I choose to seize the day."

The waitress came over and offered them two leather bound menus. "Good evening folks! Can I get the two of you anything to drink before dinner." Harry perused for a second. Samantha didn't pick up her menu. Finally, "You guys have McManis? That's one of my favorites. What do you say, Sam?" No response. "Samantha?" "Hm? Oh! I'm so sorry. Lost in thought, I guess. What were you saying?" Harry cleared his throat. "We were just about to order some wine, if you'd like." Samantha nodded as Harry turned to the waitress. "We'll take two glasses of your McManis merlot, please." "Right away, sir." With that, the waitress went back towards the bar. Harry turned back to Samantha, who was making a confused face mixed with light disgust.

"Not a fan of McManis?" "It's not that," she said. "Have you ever seen the movie 'Sideways'? With Paul Giamatti?" Harry sighed briefly. "I have actually. Many years ago, I saw it in theaters. On a date, funnily enough. It made me want to be a wine taster for a solid week." Samantha laughed. "Yeah, it was a really good movie. But when Paul Giamatti tells me not to like Merlot, I listen. Never had a glass before seeing it, haven't had one since." She smiled, remembering fondly seeing it in theaters with a handsome man. She couldn't remember what he looked like exactly, but knew he was handsome. "Well," said Harry, "maybe today we can make an exception. We both have the vaccine, and it's been a while since either of us have been out, I assume. Let's live a little." Suddenly, a phone began to ring. Pulling it out of his breast pocket, Harry's smile immediately fell. "I'm so sorry, would you mind if I took this really quick?" Samantha nodded.

Harry got up and answered the phone in the corner. "Hello, doctor. I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon." The voice on the other end was not unkind, but held the weight of hard truths. "Hello, Mr. Philips. I'm calling now because the results are back from last weeks tests." Harry made sure his back was to the table. "Go on." A few moments of silence on the other end. "Your wife's dementia is worsening. It's only a matter of months now. She'll be experiencing moments of lucidity, but loss of memory and cognitive function will be-" "Please," Harry interrupted "please, doctor. We've known this was coming for a while. Both of us." Without even realizing it, Harry pulled a gold ring out of his jacket pocket, staring at it intently as he spoke. "It's been hard, these last few months. This virus, it kept us from seeing each other. Kept me from being with her. I've been visiting her for so long, her memories don't last that long. She-" he gulped down a quiet sob. "She never remembers me. But whenever we see each other, it's like... it's like when we first met. We managed to make it so far that we're both vaccinated now, that has to mean something." "She shouldn't be out, Harry. I recommend rest." "I promise, we're social distancing and everything, nothing strenuous." He looked back at the table. Samantha was staring out the window. A light snowfall had begun to form outside. God, he thought. She's even more beautiful than the first time we came here. The waitress came over with two stemmed glasses of dark red merlot and a basket of bread. Samantha didn't even look over as she dropped it off. "Please," pleaded Harry, returning to the phone. "I don't know how many more nights I'll have with her. Let us have tonight." The doctor sighed. "Very well. But be home soon, and make sure she takes the medication we prescribed. It'll make going to sleep easier for her. Be safe, Harry." "Thank you , doctor." And with that, Harry hung up and walked back to the table.

Samantha was already on her second sip of the wine as Harry sat back down. "Everything alright?" "Oh, yes," said Harry, swirling his glass. "Just a doctor reminding me to take my medicine." Harry took a sniff of the merlot, and sipped. The blackberry and cocoa taste warmed his throat and chest. "Do you like it?" "Samantha took a third sip. "You know, I was on the fence, but I really do. Sorry Paul Giamatti, but I think you may have been wrong." Harry laughed and raised his glass, as if to make a toast. "Well, what's say we get a bottle then?" "I'm game if you are, handsome." They clinked glasses, took a sip, and stared out the window. The snowfall had picked up a little, painting a picturesque white. All Harry and Samantha felt though, was warmth.