Jason Pinter - The Stolen

Rounding the corner onto my block, I was surprised to hear a voice call out, "Careful, there, I see a hydrant with your name on it."

I looked up to see Amanda standing in front of my building, her hair rippling lightly in the wind, her face golden in the orange haze. If there was one sight that could melt away a man's sorrows, it was that one.

She was wearing tight jeans and a red sweater. Walking closer, I recognized the sweater. I'd given it to her on our six-month anniversary. That seemed like ages ago.

"What are you doing here?" I said, silently chiding myself for the impatient tone in my voice.

"I thought you could use someone to talk to tonight," she said. "I saw the newspaper."

I nodded, only because there was nothing else to say.

Amanda approached me, put her hand on my shoulder; the other hand tilted my chin upward.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know what Jack meant to you."

"He'll get things together," I said softly. "He has to."

"I hope he does. I guess at some point everyone needs to take stock of their life."

"I've been doing a little of that," I said.

"Me, too."

I looked up at her. "Why you?"

"I don't know," she said, brushing a strand of brown hair from her eyes. "At this point in my life, I want to think about what I have. What I want. What I have that I don't want. What I want that I don't have."

"What do you want?" I said.

She smiled demurely. "I'm not a hundred percent sure," she said. "I didn't say it happened all in one day. But I wanted to wait for you. I thought it might be a nice way to end what must have been a pretty crappy day."

"You have no idea," I said.

"How's Curt doing?" she asked.

"He's going home this weekend. I sent a few Olsen twins movies to his apartment as a joke. Figured if Ashley and Mary Kate can't cheer him up, the guy's hopeless."

Amanda smiled. "You're a true friend."

"He's lucky to have me," I said. "So you came here because you wanted to talk about things? About us?"

"Not so much talk," she said. "I had an even better idea.

I hope you're okay with it."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"I'm going to take you out tonight. Dinner and a movie.

There's an Italian place on Eighty-Third that's supposed to serve the best gnocchi in the city."

"Wait," I said, "this sounds an awful lot like a date."

"I could be coy and play hard to get, but what's the point?

Henry Parker, I would love to take you out on a date tonight."

My heart swelled. It was probably from the huge emotional swing, but suddenly I found myself hugging

Amanda, pulling her as hard as I could into my chest.

Then her hands were on me, pushing me away. Confused,

I stepped back, looked at her.

"Are you kidding?" she said, smiling. "This is a first date. You don't get to hug before the movie popcorn."

"Wait, a first date?" I said. "Was I imagining, you know, our whole relationship?"

"Uh-uh. But when I thought about it, I realized we'd never really gone on an actual first date. Meeting when you were on the run for your life and all. So I thought let's go back, start where we never got the chance. Dinner and a movie, sport."

"Shouldn't I pay, then?"

"This is the twenty-first century, Henry, get real.

Besides, I think I make more money than you."

"I can't say no, can I?"

Amanda smiled "Do you really want to?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Just a date," she said. "Then we'll go from there."

"Just give me one more chance," I said, "and I promise it will be worth it."