Xavier's was housed in a long narrow building, on a short, dead end lane, squashed between Mike's Marine Parts and Service, and the Twice Told Tales, used book store. A large chalkboard in the tiny lobby announced the house specialties in an elaborate, handwritten swash. The walls of rough red brick sported framed black and white drawings of famous characters from literature, barely visible in the dull pink light from the hanging iron lamps. Situated along the walls behind lattice screens, allowing for comfortable yet intimate dining, were several tables covered with bright red cloths, place settings of white, bone-handled flatware with dark blue plates, and large wine glasses stuffed with stark white napkins.

Nigel tilted the leather-covered menu trying to read by the weak light. Above him, a huge sketch of Picasso's Don Quixote seemed to compete for elbow room.

"I didn't even know it was here," Darlene said, looking about uncomfortably. "I thought we would just be going to- I don't know... "

"I wanted a special place... for a special person." He lowered the menu and looked across the table, taken by the effect of the pink light on her brown skin and the contrast with the creamy white of her eyes.

"Nigel," she said, shifting under his intent gaze, "maybe we should talk about- about..." She looked down at her hands and then back at his questioning eyes, "I like ya'll, Nigel, and I really like- this- having dinner and all but..."

"You're concerned about appearances," he cut in with a hint of rancor. "The black girl and the white boy."

Darlene felt a stab of regret, and the hurt reflected in her eyes. "It's a fact of my life, Nigel, ya'll don't understand. It's not you that people point their fingers at, it's me, the uppity black tryin' to join white society." Tears welled in the corner of her eyes.

Nigel sat back hauling in a deep breath. She was right, he didn't understand, nor did he really care. Anyone pointing fingers would soon find those boorish digits firmly in their ears; he was building toward anger and it took him a moment to recover from possibly ruining the evening.

"Darlene- Darlene I want this to be a nice night... for both of us. Let's not jump ahead to something that- well, something that doesn't even exist. Please, let's just enjoy one another's company and a nice meal, okay."

She sniffed, and possibly blushed, but he couldn't tell, "Okay, I'm sorry, Nigel."

"Don't be. Now, what would you like to start?"

*****

"That was just super, Nigel. Thank ya'll so much." She shyly let him take her hand as they walked through a narrow path from the end of the street out onto a winding road leading down into Paisley Park.

"Totally my pleasure, ma'am, small recompense for my transformation at Fawn Do." She laughed prettily, leaning her arm against his.

They kicked along lazily through the grass of the park to a silent set of swings, and Nigel guided her onto one of the seats, pushing her back from the front, and jumping clear as she swung forward.

"Do you like to go high?" He asked, pushing her back again by the ankles.

"Not too." She smiled, the wind lifting her dress to reveal the smooth skin above her knees.

He continued the rhythmic pushing, transfixed by her shadowy figure tilting forward then back with each thrust, until she called out for him to stop.

"Had enough?" She swiveled to a halt in front of him, looking up as he grasped the chains on either side above her head.

"That was a big meal, I wouldn't want to take any chances..." Their eyes locked. All the night sounds of the empty park fell silent, leaving them suspended in the grip of electrically charged intimacy.

With a brief stutter of his head, Nigel leaned down and placed his mouth on hers, gently at first, then with increasing pressure and desire. Darlene's arms came up about his neck, pulling him down- closer. Tighter. Nigel's head swam deliriously. It was like kissing marshmallows. Soft. Giving. And scented with the familiar rose water. The swing moved back and they both lost their balance, staggering comically and tumbling in heap onto the lush grass at the edge of the swing pit.

"Ooof! Are you okay?" He lifted himself off of her and sat up, taking her arm.

"Yes." She laughed, tugging down the hem of her dress and brushing it automatically, "I've never finished a kiss quite so acrobatically."

"We never finished the kiss." He said, lowering her back down on the cool grass and leaning over to join his lips with hers. A soft, prolonged moan bubbled in her throat, and she closed her eyes in pleasurable ecstasy.

*****