Love of a Lifetime

She found herself approaching the front door of a quaint restaurant, the name “Miliano’s” emblazoned in script across the threshold. A sharply-dressed doorman tipped his cap to her as he opened the door, a smile in appreciation of her appearance lighting his face.

Butterflies swarming in her stomach, she took a deep breath and made her way to the Maitre d’, checking her watch in the process. 7:58 p.m.

“Yes, Miss. How may I help you?”

“I’m meeting someone here.”

Grinning, the Maitre d’ replied, “Does this someone have a name?”

Blushing at her faux pas, she responded “Yes, Dorough. Howard Dorough.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Dorough has already been seated. Allow me.”

He presented his arm to her, which she took, slightly taken aback at the gesture, which was a rare occurrence in her time. If she hadn’t read about the custom in old romance novels, she never would’ve known what to do.

As he lead her through the restaurant, Destina took her time taking in her surroundings. Everything was so ... cozy. Nothing like in her time, where everything was sleek lines and sterile and impersonal. This was like walking into a warm, welcoming hug and her heart swelled at being able to experience it.

“This may sound silly; but, what are those things hanging from the ceiling? With the lights? What are they called?”

“They’re chandeliers, Miss. Have you never seen one before?” the Maitre d’ asked, a sincere confusion on his face.

“No, I haven’t. They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, Miss. I chose them myself. You see, and not many people know this, I’m more than the Maitre d’, I’m the owner. Giovanni Vincenzo Miliano.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Signore Miliano . I’m Destina Theresa D’Onofrio.”

“Ah, Bella. Grazie. Mille Grazie. Parlese Italiano?”

“Si, un pio.”

“Molto Bene. Ah. Here we are, Signorina D’Onofrio. Have a wonderful evening. It has been a sincere pleasure to meet you.”

With a kiss on the back of her hand, Signore Miliano went back to the front of the restaurant, a smile on his lips and a skip in his step. Smiling herself, Destina turned to face his dinner companion and a lump formed in her throat at the beauty of him, as he rose to meet her, resplendent in a black double-breasted suit with a charcoal gray silk shirt, his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. He was freshly shaven and he just smelled so clean as he leaned in to kiss Destina on the cheek, pulling out her chair to seat her properly.

“Thank You.”

“You’re welcome. You’re beautiful. I see you’re wearing the earrings. They look lovely. Really bring out the color of your eyes.”

“Thank you for them, Howie. They’re absolutely gorgeous. I really shouldn’t accept them. We barely know each other.”

“Nonsense. No other woman can do them the justice that you do. They were made for you; at least, that was my thought when I saw them in the display. Seeing you wear them, I know I was right.”

Destina blushed at the compliment, looking slightly downward, averting her eyes from his until her cheeks cooled.

They sat there, silent, each looking up at the other with an unmistakable sparkle in their eyes, before looking down again at the menus, wistful smiles on their faces. Like the night when they were backstage, the other couples in the restaurant -- mostly older couples that were long-married -- couldn’t take their eyes off of them, the women smiling to themselves, knowingly, their eyes filling with thoughts of when their own loves were brand-new. Love, absolutely. This young couple was obviously in love and every eye in the place knew it.

Clearing his throat, Destina locked her full attention on Howie as she started to speak. “Have you decided what you’d like for dinner?”

“Ah, um, I think so. I’m so glad I’m Italian -- and that I can speak Italian -- or else I’d have no clue what’s on this menu.” she responded, chuckling at the end. “I’d like to start with the antipasti, then capellini primavera, then the chicken parmagiano with asparagus and portebello mushrooms. Ooh! And either Tiramisu or a Cannoli for dessert ... your pick ... please.”

“I love a woman with a healthy appetite.”

“Well, then you’ve absolutely got to love me.” she added with a laugh. “Would you do something for me?”

“Anything.” the smile he wore as he looked at her was as soft as fresh goosedown or a cashmere sweater. It is normally said that a woman glows when in the bloom of love; yet, if a man could glow as well, it would’ve been Howie on that night.

“Would you mind terribly ordering for me?” she stuck her fingernail between her teeth out of sheer nervousness. Normally, she wouldn’t dream of asking a man to do anything so ... so ... old-fashioned; but, at the same time, she couldn’t not ask him, she wanted him to order for her. She couldn’t believe how safe she felt with him, how protected, like nothing and no one could touch her. She’d never felt like that with a man before, and certainly not on a first date.

“I’d be honored.”

**********************************************

“This food is scrumptious! What kind of replicator do they have in the kitchen? I have got to get one for my house.”

“What do you mean by ‘replicator’?”

“You know, a repli-oh, wait, that’s right, you don’t know. They haven’t started making them yet.”

“For want of a more eloquent term, ‘huh’?”

“Never mind.” Destina added with a playful grin. “This food is just so good, it’s hard to believe that human hands prepared it.”

Smiling proudly at his choice of restaurants, Howie held out a forkful of his entree’ out to her. “Here. Try this.”

She leaned across the table, mouth wide, with her hand beneath his fork as he placed the morsel of osso bucco on her palate, the mix of flavors sending her taste buds into a frenzy and a small moan of pleasure escaped her lips. “Mmmmm. That’s incredible. What else do you have?”

Laughing, their conversation flowed like the ‘83 Cristal, compliments of Signore Miliano, turning to their families. He beamed as he spoke of his brother and sisters, and his parents; his tone changing to one of reverence as he spoke lovingly of his sister Caroline.

Destina’s eyes brimmed with tears as she sensed the pain and guilt that he carried in his heart at not being with her in her final moments.

“Missing saying good-bye to her was the only time I ever really hated being a Backstreet Boy, hated the sacrifices that I had to make.”

She reached over a wiped an errant tear from his cheek, and his pressed his face against the palm of her hand, turning it over in his own to place a kiss upon it.

She smiled in understanding and he turned the conversation to her family.

“Well,” she began, “I’m an orphan now.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. It’s okay. My Mom died almost three years ago and I never knew my father. He died while my mother was still pregnant with me.”

“Did you have a stepfather? Any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope.” she added with a sigh, “My mother never married. She never got over my father’s death. They loved each other very, very much. She always told me that I had his eyes. Not the color, mind you, that comes from my Mom; but, the shape of them and the thick lashes are all him. I don’t even know his name.”

“She never told you?”

“No. Not once. There wasn’t even anything in her personal affects mentioning him. I know who he was as a man, his character; and, I know all about their love. I know that she met him where she worked, she worked for him, actually. I just don’t know where or what she was doing at the time. I don’t know what he did for a living.”

“That’s strange.”

“I agree; but, I learned early on to not ask her anything specific. It’s just as well I guess. He’s long dead and he was long dead when I was old enough to ask questions.”

“True. Ok. I think we need a more lively topic. What do you think?”

“I’ll drink to that.” Destina added, holding up her glass to his.

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