“Tonight’s the night, Gertrude!” Tasha exclaimed to the waitress across the counter.

“That’s what you’ve been saying for a whole month now.” Gertrude bunched her wrinkled face into an indulgent smile as she set a sundae in front of Tasha.

“He’s really coming,” Tasha insisted, not liking her assertion being dismissed as a young woman’s flight of fancy. She was college educated, self-supporting from her teacher’s salary, and very independent minded for a twenty-four year old woman living in Valdosta, Georgia on this 14th day of April, 1935.

Gertrude put her hands on her apron-covered hips and glanced around the deserted cafe before shaking her head of graying hair at Tasha in obvious exasperation. “You know, I used to think someone was coming for me too. About thirty years ago I finally gave up on that happening. And, as much as I’d like to believe you, your mystery man isn’t coming to sweep you off your feet either. The best you can hope for is one of the local bachelors will offer you a marriage proposal.”

“None of the local bachelors interests me,” Tasha stated with finality. “Besides, I was right about Mr. Todd Branson running his Model T off the bridge outside of town. I saw it in a vision and it came to pass just like I said it would.”

“Okay.” Gertrude threw her hands up and backed away. “I’ll have to give you that one. You did warn Todd to stop using that bridge. So maybe I’ll turn out to be wrong about your mystery man not coming along after all.”

“You are wrong.” Tasha watched Gertrude disappear though the doorway into the kitchen of the small café. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was almost ten p.m. and closing time for the café. She started taking small bites of her sundae.

In the horizontal mirror on the wall opposite her, she kept scanning the front door for the arrival of her mystery man. To date, she’d had three visions about him. Each of the visions had shown her something new and exciting.

First and foremost, he would be very handsome with dark blue eyes, close-cropped wavy black hair, and a thin, elongated face. He’d also be very tall and muscularly lean. Secondly, he would walk into this diner at closing time. Thirdly, he would kiss her better than she’d ever been kissed.

That was the reason she’d purchased new makeup and seven frilly dresses from the Sears and Roebuck catalog several weeks ago. She had to look her very best when he came through that door.

In fact, the red dress she wore tonight hugged her ample bosom, small waistline, and voluptuous hips. The way she’d pinned her curly black hair up on her head lent an impression of elegance. The makeup gave her gray eyes extra zing and the flawless white skin of her face a rosy glow. And lastly, the red lipstick on her lips looked simply divine, making them lush and inviting.

How could her mystery man resist coming straight to her once he arrived?

Midway through her dessert, a resounding crash made Tasha jerk upright on her stool. Gertrude stood in the throughway between the kitchen and counter. She stared at the front door of the café in obvious shock, a sea of broken plates at her feet. Tasha quickly spun around on her stool.

Her mystery man stood just inside the door. He wore a long-sleeved buttoned-down white shirt tucked into gray slacks and polished black wingtips. The shirt was open at his throat and absent of a tie. He looked confident in his masculinity, exactly as she’d known he would.

“Hello,” the man addressed Tasha in a deep voice.

“Hi,” she answered back. Reality faded away as she experienced the sensation of being encapsulated inside a private bubble with this man.

He smiled at her. “You’re Miss Tasha Evans, aren’t you?”

She nodded, becoming somewhat confused. In none of her visions had her mystery man ever uttered her first name, much less her first and last name together. She didn’t think he was supposed to already know her name.

The worn, wooden floor squeaked as he walked over and extended his hand. “I’m James Darvey, Miss Evans. It’s a great pleasure to finally meet you.”