Surrender.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

"Here?" he asks. "Here with me?"

I drag another silence into its own epoch.

"One of those."

The waiter clears our plates.

Saverio smiles. "This is a very different first date," he says.

"I'm out of practice."

"What, with all these young men around?"

"Some." I think seriously about dessert--I saw a lemon tart on the board.

"Some young men. Saverio, I knit for a living. I sell books. That must tell you something."

Please let it not.

"I am rushing this," he says. "We don't need to talk about travel yet. I have your address. I'll write."

More stamps.