MARCH, 1992, SEATTLE, WA
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LINDY," Jack said sweetly, raising his champagne glass in a toast.
"Thank you," Lindy said, embarrassed as she pressed her lips together in what was meant to be a grateful smile, but may have come across as more of a grimace.
For having only turned twenty-three, this had been without a doubt the most extravagant birthday that Lindy had yet to celebrate in all her years.
Jack had taken her out to one of the most ritziest restaurants in Seattle, complete with linen white table coverings, elaborate centerpieces and candles that provided a low, steady burn of warm light. A pianist sat in the corner of the room, playing light notes of classical music that floated throughout the restaurant.
The whole time that she sat there, Lindy did not know whether to be impressed or revolted.
She was not disgusted by Jack himself — if anything, he was the innocent one who had only wished to please her and make a good impression. They had been dating for a month and he had not yet garnered a true grip on who Lindy was at heart. She might as well have been hiding from him behind a gauzy veil of secrets.
But the truth of the matter was, Lindy did not need fancy dinners to be impressed. In fact, she would have been thrilled with a drive-through meal from McDonald's to ring in her twenty-third birthday. But Jack clearly liked her enough to surprise her with a lavish dinner that would probably cost more than her monthly utilities bill for her apartment.
Lindy had brought her own money with her, tucked safely into her wallet. Even though she assumed that she had now earned the title of 'girlfriend' in Jack's mind, she did not want him thinking that he would be allowed to spend this kind of money on her. She was going to attempt to buy her meal whether he liked it or not.
"Do you feel any older?" Jack smiled, sipping from his glass. He looked even more handsome than usual in the glowing candlelight, peering at her in the way that art connoisseurs admire a museum painting.
"I never do," Lindy confessed, nervously twisting her napkin in her lap. She looked around, trying to guess how in the world she had ended up in such a place when only a year prior she had been living off of ramen noodle packets.
"You seem anxious," Jack said lightly. His blue eyes stared bored into her, but it was an understanding sort of gaze, one that was not probing or intrusive. And best of all, his cornflower blue irises were just the slightest different shade in comparison to Kurt's, something that brought Lindy great relief.
"I'm not used to . . . all this," Lindy laughed nervously, waving her hands. It felt wrong to lie to him. He already knew so little about her even after a month of trying to politely dig through her mind.
Jack glanced around at the restaurant before raising his eyebrows.
"You don't like it?"
"No, oh god, I didn't mean — I don't mean to be rude," Lindy said, tripping over her words. She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. How was she fucking this up? She had thought it would have been easier to let him down.
Jack laughed softly. "What you're trying to say is, this wasn't necessary in order to share a nice evening with you?"
Lindy gulped, then hurriedly tucked back her hair behind her ears. Jack was smiling empathetically at her, but she wondered for a moment whether or not she should have proceeded with her confession.
"Well . . . yes. I don't need all of this," she finally admitted. "It's kind of you to do this, but it's not me. It's not who I really am."
Jack straightened his suit jacket and pondered what she had said before he reached into his pocket, producing his wallet and slapping down his credit card.
