She wore royal blue, and like everything she wore, it looked spectacular on her. Mildred was alive with self-expression. Each outfit was dynamic and deeply colored. She drew strength from color and Angus was in awe that someone could look so good so often and she still seemed to be natural and poised.

He remembered to hold the door for her as two slightly younger girls stood on the porch and waved good-bye, bidding to her, "Have a good time."

"You're lovely," Angus said after turning the first corner.

Angus had stopped at a Robert Halls clothing store, buying the first pair of slacks on the first rack he reached with the proper sizes. They were black. The shirt took a little more time. It was a dark green. He traded his tube socks for sheer black nylon. He walked next door to Kinney's Shoes for a pair of black penny loafers. He buffed them to a high dollar shine before he showered and took a nap. He got up at six and was going out the door at six thirty. He couldn't wait to get back to her.

"You look nice."

"Thank you," he said, watching the road and being careful to keep his hands at ten and two. "Should we eat and dance at the same place or should we eat and then drive to a place where we can dance?"

"The restaurants will be easy. I'd like something standard, seafood, steakhouse, or there's a new Greek place I've heard good things about."

"Dancing?" Angus asked, determined not to be afraid of embarrassing himself.

"There's a club on my side of town. They play a lot of fifties stuff. Some jitter bug and some slow. You can choose what you are comfortable with."

"I think I'd like that. Rock and Roll suits me."

"You look like the Beach Boys and Mommas & Poppas to me," Mildred observed.

"I suppose. They're good. And you?"

"Jefferson Airplane and Buffalo Springfield. Of course Supremes, Temptations, Four Tops, and on and on and on, and Smokey. I enjoy Ray and Nat. So tragic a man with such a voice couldn't even speak his last few months. Nat King Cole."

"Why's that?" Angus inquired.

"Throat cancer. He smoked, you know."

"No, I didn't know. I know of him. Mona Lisa, right."

"Yes," Mildred said.

Her voice was dismissive and told him he didn't know and might be better off not commenting in ways that made it unlikely he could follow up with anything of substance. He was suddenly ill at ease and felt like this date might not have been a good idea. What did they have in common? Why would a woman who looked like her be the least bit interested in him?

"Do you like seafood? I like seafood," Angus said, qualifying himself carefully.

"Just go straight on into the center of town. There are several good seafood places. If you see something you like before we get to where I have in mind, mention it. Downtown doesn't have any bad restaurants and the service will be fine. Lots of diversity."

They both got the shrimp, Angus wanted steamed and Mildred wanted fried. He felt awkward peeling and dunking. His catchers mitt sized hands had a way of making the most mundane tasks seem awkward and ill conceived. He was made aware of his awkwardness as he ate. He thought she might think he was a slob.

He was hungry for the shrimp and just dove in after a while. He wasn't going to try to be something he wasn't, although what he was, in this instance, wasn't at all clear to him. He wanted to leave Mildred with the best possible impression but he wasn't sure even his best was good enough for her.

Mildred smiled at him each time he looked at her and she seemed to be having a good time. There wasn't a great deal of meaningful conversation but it was pleasant and uncomplicated. Then he thought it was too pleasant and too uncomplicated because nothing between him and her had been easy at all. It was then Angus started to believe that he had struck out with a girl he had hoped very much to impress.

"How old are you?" He asked after, he'd mostly devoured his shrimp.

"There you go again, McCoy. A gentlemen doesn't ask a lady her age. Where were you brought up for heaven's sake?"

"I'm sorry. My mother taught us to inquire about everything when you are measuring someone as a friend. I was only curious. I guess I don't know what to say. Whatever I say seems to settle down hard on you."

"Not at all. Tell me when you were born and I'll consider whether or not it is in my best interest to tell you when I was born."

"That seems unfair," he objected, not caring if she knew his age or not.

"Yes, it does. Have you noticed the people demanding fairness are usually looking up at people who life seems to favor because of the unfairness? Those people respond, "Life is unfair. Get used to it. It's always been that way"

"I suppose that's true," Angus said. "I've always been too busy living to study if someone has something I don't have. If I want a thing I go after it. It's not about fairness. It's about how bad you want a thing."

"What if we say to those people who tell us to get used to life's inequities that we refuse to allow the status quo to remain? We don't accept that life is by nature unfair. We tell them that we want the right to the same favored status that they so tenaciously protect for themselves."

"You can't fight city hall. Certain people have things the rest of us will never get. There isn't enough to go around."

"Like freedom? And how do you think the same people would respond if they were the ones doing the looking up and we were telling them to get over it? What if we take what we have and enjoy the rights and freedoms they enjoy and we decide to deny them simply because they once denied it to us."

"I was speaking of you and I, Mildred. It's not going to happen so why dwell on the unfairness."

"And I was speaking of life in general. I don't see things in tiny terms. I try to look beyond just me to see the things around me and how my actions might change things for others."

"And I don't?" Angus said, feeling defeated.

"I don't think you've thought of it in those terms. You've never had to worry about what impact things you did might make on others. I think about it all the time. We must consider the impact of our actions on those around us. That's all I'm trying to make you aware of. Life isn't fair but I don't want to be the one shoving it up someone else's nose if there isn't a good reason."

"I like you, Mill. What reason do I need? What is it you want me to prove to you?"

"McCoy, you want to do something because it feels good. I can understand that, but then it might not feel so good tomorrow, when you've got to deal with people who don't care how anything makes you feel but how it makes them feel. And these people don't like progress or change or anyone forcing them to deal with progress or change. They want things to stay as they are."

"Yes," Angus said, following quickly with, "I was born November 20, 1950."

"In New York City?"

"Yes."

"I was born in 1951. June."

"Why make me work so damn hard for that?"

"Because we see the world from different perches. I want you to understand that."

"I just wanted dinner, a date."

"Life is about more than dinner and a date when you live here. We had to be careful where we had dinner so there wouldn't be trouble. We're going to a place that specializes in diversity so we can dance without having a scene."

"What does that have to do with what I asked you? I guess I'm dense, Mildred. I'm trying to have a nice time."

"Our age? Nothing! But it has everything to do with how we feel about one another. Why make things more difficult than they already are?"

"I don't know how you feel."

"I know you don't."

"You confuse me so bad. I don't know what to say to you. I feel like I'm twelve when I'm around you. Why can't we have a nice pleasant date, politics aside. I'm out of uniform. Please!"

"If I liked you we would need to deal with a lot of things that could be unpleasant for us. If we don't deal with them now we might not get to deal with them later. I came out with you because I do like you but I don't know you. The only way I'm going to know you is to know how you think. You should know how I think."

"So you're testing me?"

"Our conversation had nothing to do with our ages, and yet it had everything to do with our ages. What it has to do with is you and I but after you and I deal with each other we've got to deal with everyone else. It's got to be considered before there is another date."

"Mildred, two people who care about each other can do anything they want and that's what I believe. I don't care what anyone else has to say. You get so many shots at happiness and you'd feel like a sucker if you passed yours up and didn't get any more. That's what I think."

"Well, we are inside the current established norms concerning age. A man is supposed to be somewhat older than his women. We are way outside the norm in many respects. How society would perceive and deal with our mutual positions, should we further this thing that's between us. But beyond our society, how would it impact those closest to us? Your mother for instance."

"How did my mother get into this conversation?"

"Your mother is part of every conversation we have."

"Right!" Angus said, sure that left might just as well be the answer she was looking for.

"What would your mother's reaction be if you took me home to her? Besides the fact no girl would never be good enough for "her" son."

"You've really confused me now. My mother is fine. She raised me to believe in myself. It's you that shakes me all up."

"No, Angus, I haven't. You know as well as I do that your mother is going to doubt you know what's best for you. That's to say you come back and we see each other again."

"I'll be back and my mother is going to say that I deserve to be happy and if being with you makes me happy, then I should be with you. Follow what your heart tells you, son, is what she would say to me. We don't shrink from adversity. We find ways to defeat it."

"Your mother is a good woman."

"You don't know that. She could be an ax murderer. Why do you say things like that?" Angus demanded.

"Ax murders don't raise sons like you. I should have realized your mother would be okay. You are a fine man with a big heart. I don't want to see you hurt."

"I do my best," Angus said. "I can take care of myself. Being hurt would be me thinking about never seeing you again. That would hurt me."

"I know. There's more to it."

"Let's go dance, Mildred. I want to listen to some good music."

"We still need to talk about it."

"We don't need to save the world on our first date, do we? Let's save something to do for tomorrow."

"We're still seeing each other tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow is our second date. A second date means we are in a relationship. That's my accepted norm. How about you?"

"I can live with that, McCoy."

*****

The dance club was closer to Central High School. Angus stumbled through two dances before Mildred went to the stage and requested, "TWIGHLIGHT TIME".

"Let me lead," she ordered in that rich speaking voice Angus had all but forgotten about. "My feet need a few minutes to recover."

"I don't do this often."

"I know. Relax. Glide. Follow me. Loosen up, McCoy. I promise I won't wrestle you."

"I'd do better if you did."

"Just follow. Let me move and you stay with me. It's easy if you get your mind off your feet."

"And keep my feet off yours?"

"That would be a nice touch," Mildred said. "You are definitely a man after my heart."

Twice during the evening Angus requested "TWIGHLIGHT TIME". The last time he even took the lead.

"You've come a long way," Mildred said as she smiled at him.

"I came 10,000 miles to meet you," he said unabashed.

"I'm glad you made the trip."

They held hands in the car as Angus drove her back to her house. The front porch light was on and there was a dim light in the living room. Once Angus had stopped the car they both sat silently for awhile.

"What time?" Angus asked.

"We could go to breakfast."

"Nine?"

"That's lunch," Mildred said.

"Seven thirty," Angus suggested.

"That would be good. Is that enough sleep? It's late."

"I'll wait right here for you if you want to make it earlier."

"I think you would," Mildred said softly, seeming vulnerable and flattered by the simple offer.

Angus got out of his side of the car and held the door for her. They held hands as they walked casually up to the porch.

"I hope you enjoyed it. I had a wonderful time," Angus said.

"So did I."

When they faced each other Angus kissed her right away. If he had thought about it, there would have been no kiss, and so he didn't think, and afterwards he had no regrets. The kiss for him was the perfect end to the perfect evening. For Mildred it was just perfect.

*****

"So, New York is a tough city?" Mildred asked.

"Not so tough. New York is a space that has a lot of people crammed into it. You guard your space and stay observant, trying to give the other guy the same right. There's lots of stuff up there. You're okay as long as you watch your space."

"It's not as competitive here. I like this pace for life. I'm not sure I'd want to learn how to be a sardine. Children need more than that. They need the freedom to grow, don't you think?"

They held hands and it turned people's heads but they were too keen on each other to notice other people. It was a pleasant day and they'd been together since breakfast and didn't speak about their plans. Angus knew that Saturday and Sunday were all he had and he wanted to make the most of the time.

"What took your family to New York?"

"Poverty! My father fought in WWII and met Americans and decided to try America."

"So you became a soldier because it runs in your family?"

"My grandfather was in the Black Watch."

"Scottish Highlanders?"

"How do you know all the shit you know?" Angus said amazed.

"I told you that I read. You left all that behind? All that history and struggle to be free."

"Don't count out the Scots. Britain isn't what it used to be. One day they'll loosen their grip. Might take a bit of prying."

"So, is it an honorable war, Angus?"

"Let's not get started on that again, Mildred. You know we're on opposite sides of the argument. Why ruin this wonderful day?"

"Why do you say it like it's bad to talk? We aren't nearly as far apart as you believe. I do believe in America. I certainly believe in our military men. What I don't believe in is waste. This war has wasted good people and for what? No one can tell me."

"Your opinions are too overpowering to me. I don't think about life in the same terms that you do. I go with the flow whenever possible. I do what's expected of me and I try to be dependable."

"You're going back over there."

"It's what I signed up for. I can't go back on that. I won't be there any longer than I've got to be there. I told you the admiral has plans for me."

"I don't know why anyone needs to be there," Mildred said. "I hope Albert Strong is the last one we need to bury here."

"I do too, Mill. I do too."

"What was going on with him?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I've told you he's not the first. Why all the police? Why are you so favored by the police? What were they doing at the funeral home, the church, and the cemetery? I know, you can't say," she sang.

"There are some things I can't talk about. When I'm a cop, they'll be things I can't talk about."

"You mean there are some things you won't talk about."

"Telling you what I know might put other people in jeopardy. I can't do that. You can believe that I took care of Albert while following my orders. The police took care of him as well. They didn't have to be at the church. Can't you be satisfied that we were doing the best we could do with what we had to work with."

"Certainly I can. It doesn't mean I don't want to know what was going on."

"What was going on was that I brought a hero home to be buried."

"So you would never have been here if it hadn't been for whatever it was that was swirling around Albert."

"That's fair."

"Albert wasn't into anything he shouldn't have been?"

"Albert was a hero to the end. He kept giving until he was in the ground. Albert was fine. Don't ever think any different. The military doesn't give out Bronze Stars to someone who is dirty."

"That's good. I didn't know him that well. I should have taken the time for him. He didn't have anyone. We could have been there for him if we'd known. I wonder why he didn't tell us how tough he had it? He should have told us."

"It's not something you want your peers to know about."

"That's silly. How can anyone help if they don't know you need help?"

"Admitting you need help is a sign of weakness. People use that against you, especially in school. Any difference is reason to attack. Survival of the fittest. I've only been out two years. I remember how it was."

"That's a cold analysis of the human condition."

"Cold but true. You know it. I remember school and I remember you fit if you could and you still tried to fit even if you couldn't. Like the ugly duckling or the black sheep who are cast out or worse. School sucked mostly. I didn't even tell my friends that my father was gone. I just made up stories about him being undercover some place."

"At least he wasn't beating you anymore."

"I was used to being beat."

"You'd rather him stay and maybe kill one of you, or worse, you'd have killed him. Then where would you have been?"

"Things are never easy, I guess. Anyway, he's dead now. Will you wait for me, Mill?"

"Are you coming back?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away from you. I know we've only known each other a few days, but I want you to think about something."

"Think about what?" Mildred asked, stopping and turning to face him.

"You're going to laugh at me."

"When have I ever ...?"

"Last night when we were dancing."

"That was different. You were funny."

"Yeah, I was, wasn't I. Maybe I should think about being a comedian. Entertainers make a lot of money. If I can make you laugh how many more will I need to win over to make it big?"

"I would think about something else," Mildred said.

"Okay, what if I think about marrying you?"

Mildred's mouth dropped as they stared at each other. She was speechless. No one had ever proposed to her before.

"I know, it's crazy, but I'm from New York, doesn't that count for anything?"

"I'm not going to marry a man who lives in New York. I'm not leaving Indianapolis. You say you aren't coming back."

"I said I wasn't coming back. I'm saying something else today."

"And what will you be saying tomorrow?"

"It depends on if you will marry me or not."

"I'm not from New York and I'm not crazy enough to think that we're a match made in heaven," Mildred explained.

Turning back to the path and starting to walk without letting go of Angus's big hand, he immediately pulled her back and she ended up in his arms. Their lips brushed before they were kissing. People passed, heads turned, and the kiss lingered on.

"I love you Mill. I've never loved anyone before. I want to be with you all the time. I'll be back. You can bet your sweet … life on that one."

Mildred started to laugh, knowing he wasn't going to say sweet life when he started the sentence.

"First time I propose to a girl and she laughs in my face," Angus said. "My technique must need work. Not bad for a first try, huh? You may as well accept. I'm going to keep asking. One day I'll get it right."

Mildred kissed him this time and it was no less passionate. They held each other and the world all but disappeared from around them. After the second kiss they began to walk again. Each cloaked in their own private thoughts.

Finally Mildred broke her silence.

"McCoy, you go back to Vietnam or wherever it is that admiral puts you, you do your business. When you come back, if you come back, ask me that question again and I'll say yes."

"You will?" Angus was in shock.

"I don't know why. I know it's going to cause more trouble than it's worth for either of us, but I'll marry you when you come back. We'll give it a go and just maybe we'll make it."

"You're not saying that just to get rid of me?"

"Get real, McCoy. You think I wouldn't tell you to go to hell if I had half a mind to? You don't know me very well if you do."

"Well enough to know I love you."

"That'll do for now. You tell me you're coming back and I'll wait for you. I won't ask for anything else, but I'm not going to New York, so don't even think about it."

"Not even to meet my mother?"

"Only to meet your mother. One weekend. No more. I'm not a big city girl. I could never live there. My children will not live there."

"Indianapolis is nice," Angus said, looking around and breathing deep. "There's only one problem with this place."

"What's that?" Mildred said, nuzzling her face against his shoulder as they walked hand and hand.

"I don't know if you noticed it, but you can't see the damn air here," he said thoughtfully. "How in the world do you know what it is you're breathing? In New York you can see exactly what's in the air. I think I prefer that."

"Very funny, McCoy."

"That comedian thing is still on the table."

"I don't think so. The girls are fixing supper tonight. They want to meet you. I'm expected to bring you home with me so they can give you their seal of approval."

"Really! How do they know anything about me?"

"A little bird told them."

"I'd love to meet them."

"Yes, and I told them to be on their best behavior."

"What about me?"

"You, I don't worry about. They can be a handful."

"I do love you, Mill."