“Call me ‘Maybe.’ ” Nell bats her lashes, then winks at Tim.
“Yes, Miss Maybe.” Tim blushes and nods, eyes downcast.
“Oh Timmy, I didn’t mean for you to call me Miss Maybe… just Maybe,” Nell says, shaking her head.
Tim blushes a deeper scarlet, and he studies the pouf of his napkin tucked into his shirt collar. “You called me ‘Timmy.’ ”
“I didn’t mean to. It just came out that way.” She sighs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem like a little boy sometimes.”
“That’s the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me, Miss Garr.” He glances up, grinning. “I loved it when you called me ‘Timmy.’ I love being called diminutive names. Baby names.”
Nell laughs. “Okay, Timmy… how about you call me ‘Nell’? After all, it’s our third date. I think we can drop the formalities.
Tim giggles. “This may be a date, but to me it feels like a privilege. I get to get dressed up and sit at the big boys’ table.”
Nell raises her brow. “Big boys’ table?”
“Oh, it’s just an expression. I use it to mean going out with a beautiful, sophisticated, powerful woman by your side. Or… being gifted with the presence of a grand dame in your own home. I am humbled and honored, Miss Nell.”
“You have a peculiar imagination.” Nell leans forward and smiles. “Any more compliments, and I might show you my appreciation. But grande dame?”
Tim giggles again. “Surely a lady as wise as you already knows how matronly she is.”
“Matronly?” Nell frowns.
“I mean… mature. In the best possible way. Mature like a fine wine or an aged cheese-”
“Excuse me? I’m twenty-six, and I do believe your dating profile said you were thirty-seven.”
“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. It’s just that I’m in awe of you. I can’t seem to find the right words to tell you.” Tim covers his face with his napkin.
“Forget about it. I’m sure we can figure out your proper punishment.” Nell laughs and takes another sip of wine.
“Punishment?” Tim slowly peeks over the edge of his napkin.
“Well… I was just kidding, of course.”
“Oh no, you are right, Miss Nell.” Tim hugs himself and rocks. “I said a no-no, and I need to be punished.”
“This is getting weird. I think you’ve had too much wine.”
“Oh no, Miss Nell. I’m drinking white grape juice.”
“You poured wine for me, and grape juice for yourself? I knew it! You’re trying to get into my pants!” Nell throws her napkin on the table.
“Please, Miss Nell, I would never think such a naughty thought. I bought the wine for you because your profile said Riesling is your favorite drink. And now I’m so embarrassed, I did another no-no.”
Nell purses her lips, then smiles. “Oh, Timmy. You sound so funny when you talk like that.”
“It’s baby talk.”
“Yes, I know. I’m familiar with baby talk. I’m a nanny. And I’m gonna call you ‘Baby Talk Timmy.’ ” Nell takes another sip.
Tim beams. “Thank you, Miss Nell. And you being a nanny… that’s why I picked out your profile.”
“You want to date… nannies?”
“I want to meet ladies who are… motherly. Gentle, yet firm. And strict, if necessary.”
Nell rolls her eyes. “You certainly are unique. Every other guy I’ve met through BeMyBaby.com has just wanted to get into my pants.”
“I’m not like every other guy. I don’t want to get into your pants.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
“I want you to get into my pants.” Tim bites his lip. “And fix my no-no.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny. You do wear big boys’ pants, right? I’m gonna call you ‘Big Boy Pants.’ ” Nell downs the rest of her wine.
Tim stands and pushes his elastic waistband down over his hips, exposing white plastic. “Oh no, Miss Nell. Call me ‘Depends.’ ”
Thanks to Flannery Alden and Grant Miller at Flash Fiction Friday for this flash fiction challenge!