“Yeah?”
“Order what you want. Please don't choose based on what you think you should spend.”
My face warmed.
I hadn't realized she'd noticed.
I glanced toward her.
“You don't have to pay for me.”
“I didn't say I did.”
She smiled.
“I said I wanted you to enjoy dinner.”
For a moment, I considered arguing.
Then realized I was making the same mistake people had probably made with her all her life.
Assuming money was the only thing she brought to a conversation.
So I nodded.
“Okay.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
We ordered.
Then the strangest first date of my life began.
Vanessa asked about Maya.
Not in the polite way people ask about children because they think it's expected.
She wanted to know what my daughter liked.
What she was studying.
Whether she enjoyed school.
And how I managed running a garage while raising her alone.
I answered honestly.
Danielle helped.
Maya stayed with my sister sometimes when repairs ran late.
My employees were patient when I needed to leave for school events.
And I had become very good at making three different meals from the same bag of frozen vegetables.
Vanessa laughed.
Then asked what Maya wanted to be when she grew up.
“An astronaut.”
Vanessa smiled.
“Ambitious.”
“Who designs horses for space.”
She stopped.
Then burst out laughing.
“I'm sorry?”
I explained the LEGO spaceship obsession.
The paper plate holding the model because Maya believed dust would damage its engines.
The elaborate plans to build stables in low gravity.
Vanessa laughed until her eyes watered.
“She sounds wonderful.”
I smiled.
“She is.”
Then my expression changed.
Without meaning to, I glanced toward the empty chair beside us.
The one that would have belonged to Emily if life had gone differently.
Vanessa noticed.
Her smile softened.
“Danielle told me your wife died.”
I nodded.
“Three years ago.”
She looked down.
“I'm sorry.”
“Thanks.”
For several seconds, the pianist played near the window.
Then Vanessa said something unexpected.
“You don't have to tell me about her if you don't want to.”
I looked toward her.
She continued.
“But you also don't have to pretend she never existed.”
I sat very still.
Most women I'd met since Emily died didn't know how to talk about her.
Some avoided the subject.
Others acted as though mentioning my wife would somehow damage a future relationship.
Vanessa simply made room for the truth.