The first time he telephoned, we talked for over an hour. He made me feel light and funny and girly. And I liked it. Normally I don’t slow dance; I’m terrible at it. I get tense and become as stiff as a board. But that night on the phone, I danced. He led, but I didn’t need to follow. Because he carried me; my feet never touched the floor.
“I almost didn’t call you” he said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Oh, it just gets to be a little too much, you know? All these first dates; I wasn’t sure if I should bother.” He said.
“Really?” I asked, miffed that he wasn’t more excited, “What made you decide to call then?”
“WHAT?” I shrieked. “You flipped a coin?! Are you serious? Ha ha ha!”
“Yep. I flipped a coin.” He said.
“Well, what won?”
“Heads. So I called you.” He said.
The next night we met for dinner and had a wonderful evening. Our conversation was constant, natural, and excited; and our laughter seemed to last for days. I’ll bet the sparks of our attraction could be seen from afar, like the flicker of fireflies on a hot summer’s night.
After several hours, he reluctantly paid the bill and walked me to my car.
“Can I kiss you goodnight?” He asked as he gently brushed the hair from my face.
I reached into my purse and pulled out a quarter.
“I don’t know. Call it: Heads or tails?”