Transitioning

I Want Five

I swore I'd never do this, but I am going on a blind date. Andy, my ex, broke up with me "for good" over six months ago. He said that we had grown apart and couldn't find common ground anymore.

It took me a while to get over him and to transition into a single lifestyle, but I think I finally am ready to move on. For the first couple months I thought he'd come running back. Each time that someone had walked through the front door I thought it was him.

It eventually hit me that he wasn't coming back. He took Amira and I kept Mel. It felt like I was giving up a kid, but I couldn't be selfish.

So, here I am. I'm waiting at a bar, yes a bar, for my blind date. Doriand said that he was cute, so he better be. At least the guy isn't trying to impress me by meeting at some stuck-up restaurant. I oddly like that we are meeting at a bar. So, two things I thought I'd never do.

"Mika?"

I spin in my barstool and my eyes land on a very attractive guy. He's got to be six foot. His hair is a messy dark brown and his eyes are just as dark, sexy is an understatement for this guy.

"Michael?" I ask with a smile. He returns the smile and sits on the stool next to me.

"So, how do you know Doriand?" Michael asks.

"I should ask you that," I laugh. "I've worked on music with him and he's just a close friend."

"We met at my cafe. He used to come in all the time," Michael replies.

"Oh yea," I tell him. "I ordered you a drink. I promise it's not spiked," I joke as I slide him his glass.

"I trust you," he laughs as he takes a sip.

"So," I say awkwardly.

"So," he repeats.

"Did Doriand tell you anything about me?" I ask.

"He said you were very tall and attractive," he replies. "And that you had a very hard breakup. Eight years?"

"Something like that," I nod. "Do you have kids?"

"I do. I have a seventeen-year-old named Ezra that lives with me. My wife has our-"

"Wait," I interrupt. "Your wife?"

"Yea..."

"You're married then?" I ask, slightly irritated.

"We separated five years ago," Michael informs me. "But we thought we'd work things out. We obviously didn't. The divorce should be final by the end of next month."

"Oh," I simply say.

Michael sighs and sets his drink down. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, no!" I interrupt again. "I was just surprised. I'm sorry. Please finish, your wife has..."

"She has Ezra's twin Emmett, our 13-year-old daughter, and our four-year-old daughter Lizzie."

"So four," I chuckle. "I guess we only need to have one more," I blurt out and then quickly cover my mouth.

Michael gives me a confused look.

"I want five kids," I tell him quietly.

Michael smiles, "are you looking to settle down?"

I nod shyly.

"Me too," he replies. At that we both take a confident sip from our drinks.

"So-" I start, but his phone goes off. He checks his phone quickly and stands up.

"Sorry," he says. "It's my son. I have to take this."

"No problem..." I tell him as he answers his phone.

"What's up Ez?" I hear Michael answer. Id like to say I wasn't eavesdropping, but I was. "What? I'm sorry Ez...just...I'll be right home...love you..."

"Everything okay?" I ask as Michael sits backdown.

"Yes and no," he replies. "My sons girlfriend broke-up with him. He's pretty heartbroken, so he wants me to come home."

"Okay," I reply. "I understand."

I pay for our drinks as we both stand.

"You know what," Michael says. "Why don't you just come back to my place?"

I giggle...yup...

"I m-m-mean," Michael stutters. "We could sit outback and have a couple more drinks and talk some more?"

"I'd love too," I chuckle.

--

I follow Michael in my car to his house. As we pull in the driveway the first thing I realize, even though it's dark outside, is that his house is pink. Pink is one color that I'd never guess that his house was. He doesn't really seem that flamboyant.

"Your house is pink," I laugh as we walk up to his house.

The house is two stories. It's a fairly average house. If I had to guess, probably three bedroom and two bathrooms? What do I know?

"It's flamingo pink," Michael corrects me.

"Oh," I laugh. "Flamingo?"

"Yup," he replies as he opens the door.

"Dad!" Ezra, his son, whines as soon as we walk through the door. He's probably around five foot ten. His hair and eyes are nothing like his fathers. They are dirty blonde and bloodshot-blue-eyes. His tear-stained face pairs perfectly with his bloodshot eyes. He's definitely been crying, a lot.

"It's okay," Michael says as he pulls Ezra in for a hug.

"No it's not," he cries into Michael's shirt.

"Ez, I promise she's not the only girl in the world. Hopefully she's the only one that'll brea-"

"I'm gay," Ezra blurts out.