“Lu, I’ll admit that maybe you are right and that I should consider slowing down… maybe… just maybe. And I’ll also admit that I actually wanted to try my hand at dating again with Mary.” Jodi switched to sign, feeling strangely self-conscious about what she was about to say.   “But when there are kids involved, it just… that package comes with a whole set of rules and responsibilities that I’m not interested in following.”

“Fine.” Lucia looked slightly disappointed at the turn of events, but she accepted it without further objections. “But since you already made the date… what are you going to do about Mary?”

“I’m not sure,” She felt her own disappointment building; she had been looking forward to Saturday.  “I guess I can meet her at the restaurant and bring the kid subject up over dinner and just, you know… be honest with her.”

“That seems like the right thing to do… just make sure she understands that she’s not the problem, but your own neuroses.” Strangely, Jodi was the one now that wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “I’m just kidding, honey.”

Jodi abruptly stood up from the table; she really needed to have a moment to herself. “I need a fucking cigarette. Be right back. And don’t let Mr. Blabbermouth here eat off my plate.”

She had barely made it out the door before she lit the cigarette she had tugged between her lips. But this time, there was none of the relaxation that usually accompanied it.

Jodi looked at her watch for what must have been the umpteenth time. She had arranged to meet Mary at Fuego by 6:30. More than half an hour later, there was still no sign of her dinner companion.

Who knew? Maybe Jodi had gotten lucky. Maybe Mary had decided she wasn’t prepared to see the artist again. Maybe Jodi wouldn’t have to find the words to let the Irish beauty down gently.

She was surprised to recognize the emotion she was feeling right now as disappointment.

After telling the waiter for the third time that she wasn’t ready to order, she finally spied Mary by the restaurant door. The young woman looked even more striking than she had the night of the opening, dressed in a simple but elegant silk sleeveless purple top, and tight hip-hugging jeans that couldn’t hide her fit and shapely body. Jodi felt severely underdressed in faded jeans, Doc Martens’ boots and a Depeche Mode tour shirt.