AN: I'M NOT DEAD GUYS! I'M SORRY OKAY LETS GO, HAPPY READING

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Greta POV- 

After dropping off my latest victim at the hospital, Maurice and I made our way back to her house to get ready for my date. As always, her three shelter dogs piled themselves atop of Maurice and Lawrence's porch and the swing began to teeter in the cool breeze. When we pulled up, one of the dogs whipped his head up, the other two following soon after, but slowly and lazily lowered it on top of the other pooch's noggin. 

The car had stopped running and we exited slowly. Maurice's neighbor sat on his porch, glaring at every leaf that moved. A mason jar sat with his hands full of an orange liquid, as he rocked on her porch rocking chair. 

"Hello, Daryl!" She shouted at him, cheerfully. He made a strange grumbling noise from the back of his throat in response. She giggled and leaned in to whisper, "Love that dude. Always so sociable!" 

I snorted a bit and followed her inside. Her walkway was beautifully lined with flowers and bushes. She helped me a lot with my gardens. Especially when I was going through the loss of my parents.

Her key shook in her unsteady hands and barely made it in the keyhole. I raised a sorrowful eyebrow at her difficulty opening the door. A simple task that should have taken less than ten seconds. I knew she was getting older, no matter how youthful she acted and looked. I shook my head slightly as the door finally opened and revealed Maurice's home. 

The tan wallpapered walls welcomed me and everything felt all around...homier than my house. It wasn't as big as mine, but it was better kept and full of pictures of her children when they were younger, and her grandkids. Including pictures of me, which I tried my hardest not to look at. 

"Okay...so it's a ballgame right?" Maurice confirmed. I nodded my head, still looking around. The last time I had been at her house, was Thanksgiving two years ago. Last Thanksgiving I didn't go. Maurice had invited me, but holidays have always been hard for me to celebrate without my parents with me and such. . .

"Alright. So, I do have a dress that's kind of your thing, but," Maurice paused for effect, "It's a ballgame. And you don't wear dressed to ballgames, so I was thinking a bit, and I am a pretty good sewer," 

"Pretty good sewer? Maurice, you were a world-renown fashion designer!" I argued. And it was true, she met Lawrence at one of her shows in Australia. Maurice smiled. 

"Thank you, Greta. But I was thinking, I could turn the dress into a dress shirt. You know, wear some cute little pants and makeup, bam! You're a movie star. You'll probably end up with several men asking for your numbers and a little bit of your time." Maurice winked. I laughed. 

"I think I'm alright with just the one, please and thank you!" 

"Okay okay. But anyways, what do you think of this?" She walked through her hallway to a door that must have been her bedroom. She opened it and I realized I was wrong. It was a room full of clothes the size of a master bedroom! 

Maurice rummaged through hangers and hangers of old, but gorgeous, clothes. Finally, she pulled out a blue dress with flower designs and buttons running down the middle until it reached the waist. I could see it as I shirt, but most likely not in the way Maurice had seen it. 

"What 'd ya think?" She asked as she posed it in front of me. I smiled at her. "I wore it a long time ago when I was in High School for my first date ever. I'm surprised it was preserved this long. Still remember him too, Johnny Knox. Everyone was so jealous he asked me to the Swing Dance. Especially Merna Parker who was his devoted girlfriend in the 8th grade." She chuckled. 

"I love the dress! I wish we didn't have to wreck it." 

"We're not wrecking it! We're making it so you can use it on your first date with your future husband. . ." The last part was barely audible but I caught enough of it. 

"What!?" 

"Nothing, nothing. Let's get working on yourself now." She giggled and lead me to her closet-room where several sewing machines and a whole vanity full of makeup and hair product. 

 After being poked at prodded at with several brushes, lipsticks, and mascaras, Maurice finally finished her project 'Pimp My Greta'. 

"Voila!" She called out turned the spinning chair seated in front of the vanity to face the mirror. She had done my hair and makeup in a way that I would never, in a billion years, think would look halfway decent on my face. But somehow, I felt truly beautiful. I stroked my cheek in disbelief and squinted my eyes. A cherry red lipsticked face smiled back at me. 

"I-I-" 

"You were going to say that you look absolutely stunning? Right? 'Cause that's what you are!" Maurice interjected, confidently. I wanted to say I felt the same way she did but, I felt like I look like I was trying too hard. The red lipstick would take a lot to get used to. 

"I don't know, Maurice. I don't think he'll like it. . ." I scrunched my eyebrows. 

"Ah, to hell with him!" Maurice shunned me. "It's all about you tonight. Don't think about whether or not he'll like it. Think about whether or not you like it." Suddenly feeling like poop because I had thought that way, I truly looked at myself in the mirror once again. "Greta," Maurice's cooing voice whispered in my ear. "to me, you look beautiful. You don't need this kind of makeup to be beautiful. And I know you know it." 

I shy smile escaped my lips, and I felt my cheeks blush. 

"Now go, ah. . . what do you millennials call it? Go slay that date with your bold lipstick and your piercing eyes and make that man fall to his knees when he sees you because I know that's what he'll do when he sees you. And if not, he'll fall to his knees anyways when I kick him in the nuts for not doing so!" She chided. I laughed uncontrollably. 

"Okay okay! Hey," I said, suddenly growing panicky, "what time is it? I gotta get back to the shop by. . . oh God. I don't know when I'm supposed to be there!? What if he's already there, thinking my shift is over and-and thinks I stood him up on his last day in America!" I started hyperventilating, as I rushed out of the room and into the kitchen where my phone sat by the outlet, charging. There was a message from him. I screamed, and Maurice ran into the kitchen. 

"What? What happened? Are you-" She cut off her own sentence when she saw I was not in danger and was just looking at my phone. Frantically waiting for the time it was sent, I opened up the phone putting in my password. 

"Oh thank God." I managed to breathe out when it was only sent five minutes ago and said that James was going to be at the shop in thirty minutes. 

"What?" Maurice repeated. 

"James is going to be at the shop in thirty minutes." 

"Good. Now you can stop worrying and go!" She pushed me out of the kitchen and threw my coat (the one from James) on my face. I caught it as she continued to push me, not giving me time to actually put it on. "Go! Get out of my house!" She teased and she opened the door and shut it, following me to her car

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James POV- 

I felt my palms start to sweat and my knee bounce uncontrollably up and down as I took the bus to the shop. Every part of me wondered how an American Baseball Game was an appropriate first date and whether or not I should last-minute change our plans. While I anticipated the arrival of the store, I went to go pull out my phone and look up different ideas for first dates, since I (not admittingly) have never been on a proper date. 

But when I reached into my pocket to grab my phone, I remembered. 

I shot a bullet through my phone. Whoops. 

I rolled my eyes in annoyance of my temper as the bus rounded the corner of Children's Street, signaling my stop is close by. My heart pounded and I felt a sea of anxiety float in my stomach. Throbbing nerves tightened and I suddenly felt as though someone had punched me in the gut. 

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as yet the bus continued to swerve around streets until finally, my stop was up. I caught a glimpse of a Prius out front of the Bookshop and I suddenly felt excited. 

"Here you go, sir. Hope all goes well for you the rest of the day." The bus driver spoke as I exited the bus with shaky steps. I gave him a small and insincere smile. 

Taking even more shaky steps, I walked up to the front door of the shop to see Greta through the big glass windows with her back turned to me. My ringing ears seemed to manage to hear the bell jingle as I entered the shop. Greta turned to face me, a big smile spread across her face and I froze. I couldn't move; I couldn't breathe. 

She was absolutely beautiful. 

I sucked in a shaky breath, feeling my throat tighten. Panic and bewilderment rose in my body. I suddenly didn't know how to speak. Or walk. I just stood blankly, staring up at the breath-taking sight before me. My palms were clammy, and it was all I could do not to knot my fingers together. The words I had practiced over and over again in the mirror in my hotel's bathroom be dragged back down my throat and dissolved into the acid of my belly.

"Hello." I managed, the word rolling out of my mouth like tumbleweed. She laughed and suddenly the ringing in my ears had gone away and was replaced with nothing but her. 

How was she so calm and collective? I was completely crumbling in front of her and she just stood there smiling at me. Not that I was complaining, I absolutely loved her smile. She took a deep breath, that sounded shaky, but was not possible. 

"Hello to you, too! Are we ready to go?" Greta asked. 

"Uhh, yeah. Yeah-yeah, we can go!" I stuttered, waving at Maurice who looked at the two of us like Christmas had come early. And I suppose to her, it must have. I held the door open for Greta who granted me a radiant smile, that made my hands shake. She looked down and laughed, taking my shaking hands in hers to inspect them. 

"Well, what happened here?" She teased. My cheeks went hot as I tremulously responded with and unsure, 

"Oh. I just drank a lot of coffee. My nerves must be shot." 

She gave me a knowing smirk and nodded her head. 

"I see. Come on, let's go eat. I'm starving!" 

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AN: OOOOOOOOKAYYYY I'm dead inside now! My fingers and brain hurt from typing and writing so much. 

I'm really sorry that I took so long! I really am. 

I don't know when I can get you another chapter but I promise you, it won't take as long as this one. For those of you who are all caught up and waited almost a month for a 2,000-word chapter, I apologize. I've been doing all my schoolwork and I've gotten all A's this quarter so I didn't want to wreck it next quarter. I will try as humanly possible as it is for procrastinating writer self, to get you a new chapter. 

I've also been working on some other stories like a Harry Potter story and a Tyler Joseph story (which is not a love story because I hate writing those about real people. Only characters.) 

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