Writer's Notebook

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #138:
It took Edgar six months to muster the courage to ask out his dream girl. Their first date is almost over, and it couldn’t have gone better—until he discovers his wallet is missing. Write the scene.

The moment he saw her front door open Edgar checked himself in the mirror. Straightening his tie he slipped his jacket on and descended the staircase. He couldn't believe this was really happening. Six months of waiting, despairing and, more recently, even hoping. Hoping beyond hope? Somehow, Edgar couldn't help feeling he wasn't good enough for her. Even her enthusiastic 'yes', once he'd finally taken the plunge and asked her out, did little to allay his misgivings. Jasmine was no ordinary girl and he was going to have to come up with something special to impress her.

He raced down the stairs and was waiting by the open door as she came up the path. The moment her foot reached the top step he whisked a flamboyant bouquet from behind the door, surprising her just as she leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. He saw her hesitate and at once started to excuse himself.

"Sorry, it's not as..."

"Edgar, stop! The flowers are lovely. It's just, I wasn't expecting any, that's all. Besides, spending an evening with you is worth far more than anything you could give me."

Edgar winced at this perceived put-down. Worth nothing more than an evening out. Clearly, he was going to have to come up with something better. He steeled up his voice so as not to betray the lie.

"Dad has given me permission to use his car. It's a Mercedes C class; the latest model and it runs like a dream."

"But, we're only going around the corner. We don't need to take a car." And hooking her arm into his, she pulled him down the stairs.

Edgar had wanted... but he found nothing to say. How on earth was he going to impress her now. If only it was his success they were celebrating.

"I do hope you can come to my concert, next week. I've decided not to play my audition piece. I'm going for the Bach instead. And afterwards, maybe we can go over our maths together. It makes so much more sense when you explain it to me. And if I don't get my grade up, passing the audition will mean nothing."

"I'll tell you what, I saw this excellent piece of computer software the other day. It's real state of the art technology; it'll make you into a maths whizz. I'll get it for you, if you want."

But she didn't want, and once again Edgar was left to rue his inability to impress her. And as they approached the restaurant he realised this wasn't going to improve his chances with her either, being a pretty run-of-the-mill sort of place. At least, it had a pleasant view over the canal and the old town. That was probably why Jasmine had chosen it. But Edgar couldn't help wishing they were somewhere a little more classy. Opening the door to for her, he gave a little smile and was surprised when she once again took his arm and pulled his towards the steps leading down to the canal. They sat down on the wall.

"Do you know, that's the first nice thing you've done for me all evening."

"What do you mean? I've been trying to impress you ever since you arrived."

"I do realise that. Indeed, it's been quite painfully obvious. But I don't want you to impress me. At least, I don't want you to impress me with what you can. I came out with you tonight because I wanted to be with you. I was so glad when you offered to celebrate together, because I love being with you. You're the one that impresses me, not your expensive suit or the giant bouquet. And as for your father's car..." She slipped her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "Edgar, don't you realise I just want to be with you. To talk together, laugh, have a good time... with you! That's all I want."

Edgar said nothing. He just lifted her head and stared at her. But in his eyes understanding was dawning. A few minutes later he caressed her cheek and said, "Let's go in."

"Right," she whispered, "and no more trying to impress me."

"I promise, maybe I can even come with something distinctly unimpressive. I've just realised I left my wallet in my jeans at home. Either we go back home or I'm going have to ask you to pay."