May, 1984
Though she hadn't seen him in months, Seth called her. "I've got some dynamite news, darling. Let's grab a bite to eat and celebrate."
In the past, they'd gone to family style places or bars with food in them on their dates. This time, Seth insisted on something different. "I want you to put on the best dress you have, fix your hair, pretty yourself up because we're going uptown."
Linda, who still lived in her row house apartment, did as she was told. These days the Murphy bed held sheets with a higher thread count and she was able to replace the ramshackle chairs with some comfortable chrome sling chairs from a place called Ikea. She dressed better. For their dinner date she would wear a suit with padded shoulders and a nipped waistline that everyone said made her look thinner. It was mauve, and she wore a fluffy, frilly feminine periwinkle blouse with it.
Her hairdresser talked her into getting a spiral perm. "You'd look just like Stevie Nicks," she said. True, while she never had to use her curling iron or styling gel anymore, many mornings she woke up astonished at the positions her hair would mold itself into during the night. After she tamed it, her hair behaved enough that she could sweep it to one side, accenting her part with a flower barrette. Her most sexy ecru stilettos completed the look. Hopefully they wouldn't have to stand for more than fifteen minutes at a time.
Seth always drove his work truck when he came to see her. He'd learned long ago that she would never get on the back of his motorcycle. Would his seats be clean enough, she wondered after she got ready and waited out on her patio for him. It was a work truck after all.
What if he'd gotten engine grease on the seats and it rubbed off on her best dress?
Hopefully he'd put some kind of a seat cover down on it.
A few minutes later, she saw a sleek, shiny silver sports car slither up the hill and stop by the curb in front of the walkway. The horn honked, with a beep sounding like the Road Runner from Saturday morning cartoons. Who was it? The windows contained a certain kind of tint and in the late afternoon sun she could barely make out the figure moving around inside. She could not even tell if it was male or female. A moment later the driver door opened on the other side, and a tall blond man emerged, wearing stylish mirror sunglasses. She knew that smirk anywhere. "Seth!" she called out, as he started sauntering up the walkway. "What is this?"