Under The Willows

Chapter 3: The Mistake

Toshinori was wide awake. He tried his best to go to bed early, but the nervousness kept him awake. So he fixed himself some herbal tea. His favorite tea to have at night was chamomile with a little lemon and honey. What should he order tomorrow? He had to order something small that he could chew well in a short amount of time. Having no stomach was such a pain in the ass sometimes. A croissant would be acceptable, wouldn't it? He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable and awkward because he knew it would take forever for him to eat. The tea at La Boulangerie was fantastic. Toshinori was excited to share a pot of the fruit tisane. Planning out what he wanted to order helped him take his mind off his nervous feeling long enough for him to get sleepy. He double checked the clothes he had laid out for the next day to make sure he didn't need to press any wrinkles out. Everything looked good so he headed to bed. A smile crept up on him as he drifted off.

The next morning arrived quickly. He woke up before his alarm went off. Toshinori realized he had some grading left to do and groaned. Nezu had a long, but admittedly useful, lecture to share with him the day before, so he hadn't been able to get to those papers. He'd have to stay late again today to try to finish them. Sighing he lifted himself out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He washed his face in freezing cold water to try to shake some of the fatigue he was feeling and brushed his teeth. His bones ached despite the warmth of the sun coming through the blinds. He perked up a little with the thought of his appointment with Miss Flowers. After shaving he used his nice aftershave, the one he bought for himself on a whim and never had an occasion to use. It smelled nice and subtle to his relief. It was a slightly spicy and woodsy scent. He didn't want to be obnoxiously fragrant out in public, though he loved scented things in his home. His clothes were waiting for him on their hangers, still neatly pressed. He got dressed carefully, doing up his buttons and putting on a green tie. Remembering the print in her office of the movie poster for Singin in the Rain, he had chosen grey slacks that looked a little like Gene Kelly's. He checked his appearance in the mirror and grimaced a little, self conscious about his shrunken physique, but he did look tidy. So out the door he headed with wallet and keys in hand towards the little french cafe they agreed upon just down the road, La Boulangerie.

The morning did not go as smoothly for Violet. For the second day in a row she slept past her alarm and had to rush to get ready. She was thankful that she had everything set aside from the night before. Her face looked well rested at least. She frantically freshened up her face with some cool water and a toner, moisturized her face and neck, brushed her teeth, and immediately set to flat iron her short curls which were sticking out every which way after sleeping on it wet. A little hair oil for shine. She wanted to do a cute makeup look, but also didn't want to seem like she was trying too hard. Violet settled on a subtly shimmery lavender eyeshadow, a little mascara, a sweep of blush, and a light lip gloss. The gloss caught in the fine lines around her lips and made them stand out. She sighed with exasperation. In youth, the gloss would just stay where it was supposed to and looked nice and shiny. On an aging mouth it wasn't so easy. She loved the gloss and it did make her feel pretty so she tried lining her lips with a matte lip pencil then lightly filling in the lips with the gloss instead of bringing it all the way out to the lip line. It worked much better. It also felt good not to compromise too much. After all, aging shouldn't make you give up the things you love to do or wear even if you have to work around it sometimes. Violet looked in the mirror to check for any smears, smudges, or stray hairs. Deciding upon some floaty looking pearl earrings she stuck them on, she grabbed her keys and wallet, and rushed out the door headed to the little French cafe down the way, Le Bouton.

Once at La Boulangerie, Toshi noticed he was a little early so he went ahead and grabbed a table for two near the window. He also went ahead and ordered the fruit tisane knowing it took a little longer than a regular pot of tea. He looked down at the table and reached for his phone when he realized he had been in such a rush that he had left it at home. He watched the entrance to make sure he could see her come in. After about ten minutes the waiter brought the fruit tisane, two delicate looking tea cups, and placed the second cup across the table from him. Every minute or so, Toshi looked up and around to check for Violet. About thirty minutes had passed and he grew a little concerned. A plate of croissants came to the table and Toshi almost refused, but it was on the house since the chef had recognized him.