Chapter 24: The Date Is On

On the next Saturday, Cal knocked on my front door.

He had never knocked before.

For a week he had walked straight into the kitchen with his boots on and Birdie's soup in one hand.

I opened the door in my socks and stared at him.

He had on a clean flannel shirt and a tie, a blue knitted one that clearly belonged to his father.

"What is that?"

"It's a tie."

"I can see that."

"I was told that when you take a woman out, you wear one."

"Who told you?"

"Mother."

"Where are we going?"

"The ice shack," Cal said. "It has a stove. I've checked the stove. I did not tell her about the stove."

I laughed so hard that I had to hold onto the frame.

"Is this a date?"

"I've never taken you on one," he said. "We went from a fishhook to a ladder to your bedroom. I'd like to do one part in the right order."

"Cal."

"Seven o'clock. Wear boots."

I put on boots, and the good coat, and the grandmother's brooch, because I wanted to.

Birdie had left a thermos and a pot of something wrapped in towels on the passenger seat of his truck.

We drove down to the lake, and he walked me out onto the ice with his hand at my back.

The shack was small and red, at the end of a plowed track.

It had a chimney, a window, and a bench along one wall.

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