Wonton Soup
A bit of a sequel to Tarot Cards.
University of San Diego, 1986
“Hello?”
Dana can’t prevent the flutter in her stomach, nor the smile that adorns her lips. “Monica, it’s me, Dana.”
“Oh, hi! Sorry, I forgot to label your number in my phone. How are you?”
“I’m good, I’m good. I’m sorry it took me a whole week to call you but I’m already busy with my classes and applying to grad school, plus work, and then yesterday I went out drinking with my friends to celebrate their twenty-first birthday—”
Monica laughs softly and Dana pauses. “It’s fine, Dana. I know you’re busy—way busier than I am, at least.”
Dana chuckles and, after a quiet moment, sighs. “I realize, um, that we didn’t really get to know each other before we... Look, I’m—I’m sorry, I’m terrible with emotional stuff, but I want to be candid with you. I really like you, Monica, but my family lives here and they visit me a lot and I’m not out to them... But I do want to be with you.”
She holds her breath, waiting for Monica’s verdict. “I’m not out either,” she admits in a small voice, “so I guess that’s something we have in common. And...I know you’re probably not doing grad school here.”
“Probably not,” Dana agrees. “I applied to programs all over the country, although I doubt I’ll get into many of them. It’s not like I paint a pretty enough picture, you know? A woman being a doctor? Preposterous, especially considering that I’m graduating with a bachelor’s in physics.”
“Oh! Med school? That’s amazing! Do you know what field you want to go into?”
“I’m not sure yet, except for the fact that I want to be a physician,” Dana says. “I’m free tomorrow around dinner. Do you want to go out?”
“Like a date?” Monica presses, smile evident in her voice.
Dana smiles, too. “Yes, a date. I’ll pick you up at your place at six?”
“Sounds good.”
“Good!” She’s a little breathless. “I’ve never done this before.”
“I figured. It’s a bit of a steep learning curve. I’ve gotta get ready for class, though. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
—
As soon as Dana pulls up in front of Monica’s dorm building, the younger woman comes bustling out, evidently having been avidly waiting just inside. “It’s nice to see you again,” Dana says, slowly pulling away from the curb as her date buckles her seat belt.
“It’s nice to see you again,” she replies with a smile to her voice. “You look nice. Where are we going?”
Dana pretends as if she hasn’t blushed at Monica’s compliment. “There’s a Chinese restaurant nearby that’s not too expensive, but I’ve heard the food’s good.”
“Take me away, Dana,” Monica says, and the two exchange a brief glance, smiling.
She doesn’t let silence overtake the car ride, instead talking about her day and asking Dana questions about hers. The restaurant is small, tucked into the corner of a small plaza, and a bell tinkles when they walk in. It’s tastefully decorated, and the smells coming from the kitchen are delicious.
“Table for two?” the host asks.
“Yeah,” Dana says, nodding, and boldly takes Monica’s hand in her own as he leads them to a two-seat table against the wall.
They order drinks and, later, food, their meals not much more than a footnote as they talk and talk and talk. Dana gets lost in the way Monica’s eyes light up when she mentions living in Japan.
“I was almost born in Japan, actually,” Dana admits with a smile.
“Really!”
“Yeah! But, in a stroke of luck—sort of—my mom got sick with me a little earlier than with my older sister and brother, so she sent a letter to my dad, who was at sea at the time, and then he requested to be transferred back to the States so that I could be born here. And so we were shipped to Maryland, and I was born in Annapolis!”
“Oh, God, that must’ve been tough on your mom, taking care of you and your siblings. I’m an only child, but I used to spend a lot of time with my cousins before I moved to the States.” They both glance over at the doors to the kitchen as a waiter approaches them. “I was born in Albuquerque but I grew up in Mexico. Compared to your childhood, I feel lucky that both of my parents were around a lot.”
The women sit up and remove their arms from the table as the waiter sets down their bill and thanks them for coming. Dana checks the time and is shocked to see that it’s past nine, inhaling slightly before releasing that breath with a small smile. “I didn’t realize how late it is,” she says, grabbing the bill before digging into her purse for her card.
“You know what they say: time flies when you’re having fun,” Monica replies, chin resting on the backs of her hands, propped up by her elbows. Dana itches to kiss her, or at least take her hand but settles for waiting until they’re outside the building. “Next time, I’m paying.”
She stands up and slings her purse over her shoulder, wallet and bill in hand. “I’ll meet you by the car,” Dana says, biting her lip as butterflies storm inside her stomach. It’s not like she’s never been on dates before—in fact, she’s been on plenty. But none with a woman before.
“Sounds good.” Monica stands up, bringing the strap of her purse over her head to hang across her body before briefly squeezing Dana’s hand.
—
“I had a great time, Dana,” she says, voice soft in the inches between them.
Dana smiles and takes her hand, bringing her other up to tuck a wave of Monica’s hair behind her ear. “Can I kiss you again?”
She laughs softly, crossing that last distance between them. “Yes.”
Monica boldly brings her hands up to Dana’s face, cupping her cheeks before pressing their lips together. Dana snakes her hands around Monica’s waist, bringing one up towards her shoulder blades, leaving the other at the small of her back. She sneaks her tongue into Monica’s mouth, inhaling sharply before breaking apart for air, grinning.
“We should go,” Dana breathes, cheeks flushed.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Monica says on an exhale, eyes twinkling in the light from the restaurant.
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