My Clear Ambition

It was a slow ride home after work on Tuesday, all 2.1 miles.
There was traffic exiting the downtown and stopping at “four ways” all the while.
Mom and Dad called earlier in the day and said they landed at O’Hare.
Back from their two week vacation in Germany with customs still to bear.

I passed by home and continued driving until the end of the block.
I walked in the door and it already read 5:10 on the clock.
Mom and Dad have landed with their luggage and clothes all strewn about.
It looked like a tornado came through and the house was a mess no doubt.

Dad said Mom just got over a cold, and along with sniffles and chills, passed it on to him.
I wanted to stay longer, but to get sick right before the holidays sounded too grim.
So I backed out the door and continued home to bail.
Only to walk in and see that someone left me a voice mail.

I entered the numeric codes and then like magic heard his voice.
It was Mr. Texas making an offer, for which I had no choice.
He said he was hungry and needed to get his nutritional fill.
“Shall we eat in the city or the town, it’s your will.”

I stuttered, stumbled and answered, “Let’s be bold and eat on the town.”
I freshened up and departed, unaware of what was about to go down.
So I met him at his house and he greeted me with a much bigger kiss.
To say it was not accompanied by a tighter and longer hug, I would be amiss.

It was a feeling I first felt had never been reciprocated.
Now I felt as though what I have missed has been inundated.
The first kiss with only a bit of his tongue felt like a tease.
But that, accompanied with the heartfelt hug, put my body at ease.

Down to the town and the martini bar is where we first stopped.
He had his chardonnay and me my MGD, tastes great with barley and hops.
We first spoke of important things that I knew were on his mind.
Did he feel any more comfortable at work, or was it a grind?

A superior told him, “We need some younger people to get us through this time.”
“I’m sorry are you saying I’m too old for this position? You know that’s a crime!”
Despite the fact that Mr. Texas says he can separate business from taking it personally,
I viewed this as a time that he was reaching his hand out for support most intentionally.

I told him I was here as his emotional punching bag, as one blogger once tried.
It got him to divulge his deep true feelings, with nothing left to hide.
It amazed me to what degree we grew so close in so short of a span.
I have ALWAYS been one who supports and nurtures the best that I can.

After a few drinks we walked to the neighboring Last Chance Saloon.
They’re known for their buffalo burgers, so I knew what I would order soon.
Mr. Texas went with the big bowl of homemade chili and a fresh house salad.
The booth seating brought us close together which made me feel so glad.

The booth was in the corner, providing a space against each wall.
The third space was a seat along the aisle, exposing one’s back to all.
Mr. Texas said I’ll take this side of the booth, I don’t like that seat.
“That’s good,” I said, “because this space gets you closer to me, how neat!”

During dinner we noticed the flat screen broadcasting “Dancing with the Stars.”
“I’ve never watched the show in my life. Seems weird to be watching it in a bar.”
Mr. Texas told me it was a recap show providing highlights from the night before.
Seeing those poor women being spun and doing the splits before hitting the floor.

Moments of laughter were shared which seemed to bring us closer together.
At times we clasped each other’s hand as dancers fell and began to weather.
It was one of those times again when a bold move did not lead to a reaction.
Upon discovery of the move, I looked around only to find people numb to the action.

We began to speak of that Osmond, Marie is her name.
Without Donnie and singing, she just isn’t the same.
I asked Mr. Texas if he recalls Donnie and Marie’s variety show’s “closing song.”
As if the show aired yesterday I belted out the lyrics which he eventually sang along.

While driving back to his place he reached in his console and took out a CD.
It was the CD I made for him with various songs which made him smile with glee.
I was happy to see that the CD was put to good use while driving in his car.
He told me that of all the songs, number three was his favorite by far.

Number three was by Snow Patrol and “provides a great beat,” he would say.
He uses that song when he is spinning, exercising or cycling, usually every day.
We described the song in sections and both agreed when the best part comes.
It’s faster, more upbeat and leads to a crescendo more worthy than a few hums.

We safely returned to his home, went inside to warm up and stood in the kitchen.
We could sense by our proximity and moments of silence something was itchin’.
The shy one I am, I felt awkward in a moment of no words being said.
Mr. Texas’ response was not by exchange of words, but grabbing of my head.

We closed in on each other in a long hug and thanked each other for a fun night.
I melted in his arms and almost cried from the month of this unwarranted fright.
We then kissed each other, more passionate than what they were like before.
A quick little emergence of his tongue was felt as if to tease and explore.

Mr. Texas reminded me of his Thanksgiving dinner this Saturday night.
It will be more relaxing than our initial dinner was, which is quite alright.
A report time for appetizers was 6:30 PM to me and the guests.
But Mr. Texas told me to come over earlier or whenever I feel it’s best.

“Patience” has always been the mantra I have so fervently despised.
But after all of this time together, the reward is being recognized.
I cannot ruin this opportunity as I want a relationship to come to fruition.
To share in each other’s lives and our love for each other is my clear ambition.