Older Men and other acts of insanity . . . Part Two

SOS is an event inspired by Brillig and Walking Kateastrophe's . To find out who else is taking part, and read some great SOS, Brillig is hosting this week. Go check it out for some soapy fun! This is my own story--an ending and a beginning, from high school to college--and the array of “older“ men that came through my life back then. Part One is here.

I introduced Tony to my parents. He did all the proper things, like looking directly into my dad’s eyes as they shook hands, pleasant smile, but a direct man-to-man look. As my mom stretched out her hand, he shook it smiling as he kept her gaze. I saw Mom and Dad nod an approval to each other on his manners. Round one, and Tony was doing pretty darn good.

He was dressed in a very handsome suit, which I would have expected since we were going to a wedding. But as he chatted with my parents, he stated that he was one of the ushers, and we really would need to leave as he was wanted at the church prior to the wedding to get his boutonniere and begin seating the guests as they arrived. I have to admit, I probably looked a bit concerned, as I had thought I’d be sitting with Tony. He looked over at me, grinned, and assured me he’d be close by, and I wouldn’t have to sit with his parents unless I wanted to. I DID let out an audible sigh of relief, to which everyone chuckled.

And then we were off. He had rather whisked me out the door, down the stairs, and off to his car, where he opened the door. I slid on in (and in those days, no seatbelts), and tried to straighten out my dress so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

It turned out the church was only a few blocks away. Funny how we’d evidently been practically neighbors for years, but had never met. We went to the same high school, but I would have been a sophomore while he was a senior--that pretty much would have kept us separate right there! Seniors and sophomores don’t share classes, unless they’re in band, orchestra, chorus--or a few “elective” courses. And if we’d ever seen each other at the local grocery store, pharmacy, etc., well, unless he tripped over me, or we bumped car fenders, I doubt we’d ever really would have noticed one another. OK, I would have noted a good looking fellow, but no sense in dwelling on something “out of your league”.

I have to admit, by nature I’m rather shy. OK, everyone who knows me, stop chortling, you might hurt yourself. I know I have performed on stage for crowds, I’ve taught from lecterns in theaters and at the front of classrooms. And I engage total strangers in conversations with no hesitation. BUT, when it came to my dating years, being with a new fellow, and meeting his people, his family, his friends, I was ready to blend in to the woodwork, be the mouse under the table, or the fly on the wall--I really was so worried about the impression I’d make, I would freeze up like a deer in the headlights.

We walked into the church vestibule, and there they were. Hoards of them. All people Tony seemed to know. Everyone came over to give him a squeeze, a handshake, a kiss on the cheek. And EVERYONE, was rolling eyes, tipping heads my direction, and asking “Oh Tony, who’s THIS sweet girl?” or "Oh, FINALLY, we get to meet your special lady.” And I clung to his hand for dear life, as he graciously, and with a sweet little grin, introduced me with the title of “his lady” and my name.

I was very relieved when he finally led me to a pew at the back of the church. His parents weren’t there yet, and he needed to begin seating people--so he put me back close to the place he’d be sitting during the service. Everyone was being ushered up to the front, filling in seats there first. And I was quite content to hold down the fort at the back, all by myself.

Just when I had begun to breathe normally, Tony was standing next to my seat and on his arm was a woman--who turned out to be his mother. And on the other side of his mom was his dad, and his two brothers. They had decided they would sit back with me, rather than move up closer to the front. Tony busied himself making introductions, and I stood up and moved out of the pew to make room for them--at which point his Mom went past me and began moving down the pew to make room--but his dad shoved me back in telling me he didn’t want me to feel left out, so I was going to sit between he and Tony’s mom. Yikes.

Good thing I was young and not prone to heart attacks, as I’m sure my blood pressure was off the Richter scale! Everyone was speaking in semi-hushed “church” tones, with his brothers leaning around their father to ask me questions, and his mother leaning around me telling them to be quiet. Every time Tony went by ushering someone to a seat, his father would elbow me, and nod toward Tony. To which he would add some kind of conspiratorial wink and grin, which I decided not even to try and figure out all of what that was about.

Although we all stood as the chords to the wedding march for the bride began, I have to admit, the rest of the service was a bit of a blur to me. I was greatly relieved when we all stood and filed out of the pew, and I could beg off needing to head to the little girl’s room. Sitting in my little potty cubicle, I finally had a few minutes to collect myself and see if I could get my blood pressure back somewhere close to normal--I don’t think even when you’re young it’s good to have elevated blood pressure for over a half hour.

As I came out of the bathroom, I was almost afraid to look around and find one of Tony’s immediate family ready to corral me again. Instead, there was Tony. He bowed slightly from the waist. Flashed me an irresistible smile. And slightly extended his bent arm, allowing me to take hold as he led me toward the church’s reception hall. And just as we got to the door of the hall, he dropped his arm, moved slightly behind me, and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close into his body.

I barely had time to react to this masculine gesture, when I felt his warm breath on my neck, as he whispered in my ear, “You’re safe now. I’m not letting you go for one more moment the rest of the day.” I felt the heat rise from my neck up what I was sure to my now blushing cheeks. And from that moment on, he was at my side. Even sitting at the table for our meal, he ever so slightly moved his leg over to touch my leg. When dancing, he alternated holding me out at arm’s length, as he looked me over like he was thinking I was edible, and then pulling me in to his warm muscular body directing us smoothly around the dance floor.

And some where in all of it, there on the dance floor, as he pulled me in close, he dipped me ever so gently and kissed me. His lips were soft, tender, yet with just a bit of urgency. I was grateful he had a good hold on me or I’d have swooned and hit the floor.

Can’t tell you much more about the rest of the day--I don’t think my head was in gear, but my glands were working over-time. And this was our FIRST date, I couldn’t imagine how he could top it on our second date--but he did!