The Date Was Going Well Until . . .
| "Why don't you cook dinner for him? The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
"Is that what you did for Kevin?"
"Yep. I cooked his favorite Chicken Kiev. Won him right over."
Tim liked steak, so, I planned to broil porterhouse steaks. The potatoes were already perfectly baked with all the trimmings: chopped chives, shredded cheddar cheese, real bacon bits. . .wait, where was the sour cream? The doorbell rang. He was early, dang it. I rushed to answer the door.
"Hey. Am I too early?" he asked, handing me a bouquet of carnations. That boy was too handsome to be true with his soulful brown eyes and dimpled smile.
"Come in, please." I placed the flowers in a vase and hurried to plate our meal so we could eat. I cued my romantic music playlist and set it low volume as background music. Soon, the steaks were done and we sat down to eat. I cut into my steak; the knife went in buttery smooth.
"This steak is awesome; where's the sour cream for the potatoes?"
"Yeah, I'll get it." I went to the refrigerator, found the half-full container in the back of the refrigerator and brought it out. Tim spooned some onto his potato; we ate, talked and laughed. I excused myself to get the key lime pie out of the refrigerator.
"Hey, where's your bathroom?" he called out.
"First door on the left," I replied, elated that the evening was going so well. I was humming along with The Thompson Twins' Hold Me Now. I sat at the table; Tim had been in there a while. There was discolored water coming out from under the bathroom door, flecked with brown matter and bits of toilet tissue.
"You okay in there?"
"Don't come in here."