7. Date Night Jitters

DATE NIGHT JITTERS

S he'd had her roots done, but not her nails, eyebrows or eyelashes. Should she have? Should she have waxed her legs and her bikini line? And her chin? And the moustache that was starting to appear above her lip? How much effort did people put into dating these days? The last time she'd been on a first date, Margaret Thatcher had been in office and shoulder pads were considered the height of fashion.

"It's just dinner," she muttered to herself, pushing aside a series of cardigans that suddenly seemed to mock her with their sensibleness. "With a handsome doctor. Who you barely know. At your age. Oh, good grief."

Her phone buzzed, making her jump. A message from Emma flashed on the screen: "Operation Silver Fox is go! We'll be there in 10 with reinforcements. Don't you dare get dressed without us!"

Rosie felt a mix of relief and trepidation. On one hand, she desperately needed help. On the other... well, letting the Sensational Sixties Squad loose in her bedroom seemed like a recipe for chaos.

True to Emma's word, precisely ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. Rosie opened it to find her friends on the doorstep, armed with what appeared to be enough beauty supplies to stock a small salon.

"Right," Emma said, brushing past Rosie with determination. "Where's the patient? We have a severe case of first date jitters to cure."

"I'm not sure 'patient' is the right word," Rosie protested weakly, but she was already being steered towards her bedroom by Lisa and Julie.

"Nonsense," Lisa said briskly. "You're in need of emergency intervention, and we're your style paramedics."

Catherine brought up the rear, looking slightly overwhelmed by the rapid fire chatter of the others. "I brought wine," she said, holding up a bottle like a peace offering. "I thought we might need it."

"Oh, bless you," Rosie said fervently. "I think we're going to need more than one bottle."

As they piled into Rosie's bedroom, Emma immediately made a beeline for the wardrobe. "Right, let's see what we're working with here... oh my. Rosie, darling, when was the last time you bought something that wasn't beige?"

Rosie felt her cheeks warm. "Beige is a perfectly respectable colour," she protested.

"For a carpet, maybe," Emma retorted, tossing aside blouse after blouse. "Aha! Now this has potential."

She held up a deep green wrap dress that Rosie had forgotten she owned. It had been an impulse buy years ago, worn once to a Christmas party and then relegated to the back of the wardrobe.

"I can't wear that," Rosie said, eyeing the dress dubiously. "It's too... young."

"Nonsense," Lisa interjected, taking the dress from Emma and holding it up to Rosie. "It's classic. Timeless. And it'll bring out the colour of your eyes beautifully."

"But..." Rosie began, only to be cut off by Julie.

"No buts," Julie said firmly. "Trust us, Rosie. Mike won't know what hit him."

As Rosie reluctantly tried on the dress, Catherine busied herself pouring generous glasses of wine for everyone. "Dutch courage," she said with a wink, handing Rosie a glass.

"Now," Emma said, rubbing her hands together with glee. "Let's talk hair and makeup."

What followed was a whirlwind of activity that left Rosie feeling like she was in the eye of a very glamorous storm. Julie, with her artistic eye, took charge of makeup, wielding brushes and palettes with the precision of a master painter.

"Hold still," Julie instructed, applying eyeshadow with intense concentration. "I'm going for a smoky eye effect."

"Smoky eye?" Rosie squeaked. "Isn't that a bit much for dinner?"

"Trust the process," Julie said serenely. "You'll see."

Meanwhile, Lisa had taken on the challenge of Rosie's hair. "When was the last time you had a proper cut and colour?" she asked, frowning at Rosie's reflection in the mirror.

"Yesterday. I went to that place down the road. It was only ￡20."

Lisa's raised eyebrow spoke volumes. "Right. We're booking you an proper appointment first thing tomorrow. But for now, we'll work with what we've got."

As Lisa began teasing and styling, Emma rummaged through Rosie's jewellery box. "Surely you must have something here that isn't... oh, hello. What's this little beauty?"

She held up a pair of dangly earrings that Rosie had almost forgotten about. They'd been a gift from Derek years ago, never worn because they seemed too flashy for everyday life.

"Perfect," Emma declared. "These will add just the right amount of sparkle."

Catherine, meanwhile, had been tasked with shoe selection. She emerged from Rosie's closet looking triumphant. "I found these," she said, holding up a pair of strappy sandals with a modest heel. "They're not too high, but they'll elongate your legs beautifully."

Rosie eyed the shoes warily. "I haven't worn heels in years," she admitted. "What if I fall flat on my face?"

"Then Mike will have a chance to show off his bedside manner," Emma quipped, earning herself a playful swat from Lisa.

As the makeover progressed, fuelled by wine and increasingly outrageous stories of past dating disasters, Rosie's nerves begin to settle. The laughter and camaraderie of her friends was infectious, reminding her that no matter what happened on this date, she had a support system to fall back on.

Finally, after what felt like hours of primping and polishing, Emma declared the transformation complete. "Ladies," she said with a flourish, "I give you the new and improved Rosie!"

Rosie turned to look in the full-length mirror and gasped. The woman staring back at her was her, but somehow way more than her. The green dress hugged her curves in all the right places, the subtle makeup enhanced her features without overwhelming them, and her hair fell in soft waves around her face.

"Oh my," she breathed, turning this way and that. "Is that really me?"

"That," Lisa said with satisfaction, "is the real you. The you that's always been there, just waiting for the right moment to shine."

Rosie felt tears prick at her eyes. "Thank you," she said, turning to embrace each of her friends in turn. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Of course you couldn't," Emma said briskly, but her eyes were suspiciously bright. "Now, no crying! You'll ruin Julie's masterpiece."

Just then, the doorbell rang, making them all jump.

"He's early!" Rosie yelped, suddenly panicking again. "Oh god, I'm not ready. I can't do this. What was I thinking?"

"Deep breaths," Lisa instructed, gripping Rosie by the shoulders. "You can do this. You're gorgeous, you're intelligent, and you're going to knock his socks off."

"But what if I say something stupid?" Rosie fretted. "What if I use the wrong fork? What if--"

Her spiral of worst-case scenarios was cut off by Emma, who thrust a small flask into her hand. "Emergency backup," she said with a wink. "Just in case."

Before Rosie could protest, she was being ushered down the stairs, her friends following like a very enthusiastic honour guard.

"Remember," Julie called as Rosie reached for the door handle. "You're not just Rosie tonight. You're Rosie 2.0 - sassy, confident, and ready for adventure!"

With one last deep breath, Rosie opened the door.

Mike stood on the doorstep, looking devastatingly handsome in a well-cut suit. His eyes widened appreciatively as he took in Rosie's appearance.

"Wow," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You look... amazing."

Rosie felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "Thank you," she managed. "You look very nice too."

There was a moment of awkward silence, broken by a not-so-subtle cough from behind Rosie. She turned to see her friends attempting (and failing) to look inconspicuous.

"Oh! Um, these are my friends," Rosie said, gesturing vaguely behind her. "They were just... helping me get ready."

Mike's smile widened as he waved to the group. "Hello, ladies. Thanks for taking such good care of Rosie. I promise to have her home by midnight."

"Make it one!" Emma called out, earning herself an elbow in the ribs from Lisa.

As Mike offered Rosie his arm and led her to his car, she could hear the excited chatter of her friends behind her. She smiled to herself, feeling a surge of affection for these women who had brought so much joy and laughter back into her life.

The drive to the restaurant was filled with light conversation, punctuated by moments of comfortable silence. Rosie found herself relaxing, Mike's easy manner putting her at ease.

As they were seated at their table, Rosie's earlier panic about using the wrong fork resurfaced. She eyed the array of cutlery before her with trepidation.

Mike, noticing her hesitation, leaned in conspiratorially. "I'll let you in on a secret," he said in a low voice. "I never know which fork to use either. I just start from the outside and work my way in."

Rosie laughed, feeling the last of her tension melt away. "And here I thought doctors were supposed to know everything."

"Certainly not," said Mike with a wink. "We're just very good at faking it when we don't."

As the evening progressed, Rosie found herself thoroughly enjoying Mike's company. He was intelligent, witty, and a great listener. They swapped stories about their careers, their families, and the joys and challenges of starting over in their sixties.

"I have to admit," Mike said as they lingered over dessert, "I was a bit nervous about tonight."

Rosie raised an eyebrow. "You? Nervous? But you seem so confident."

Mike chuckled. "Well, as I said, doctors are very good at faking it. But the truth is, it's been a long time since I've been on a first date. And when I saw you in the pub that night... well, let's just say you made quite an impression."

Rosie felt a warm glow spread through her. "Even with the impromptu shower courtesy of the sprinkler system?"

"Especially then," Mike said, his eyes twinkling. "Any woman who can laugh in the face of disaster is someone I want to get to know better."

As they left the restaurant, Rosie felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach. The night had gone better than she could have hoped, but now came the moment of truth - the end-of-date goodbye.

They walked slowly to Rosie's front door, neither seeming in a hurry for the evening to end.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Rosie," Mike said as they reached her doorstep.

"So did I," Rosie replied, suddenly feeling shy. "Thank you for a lovely evening."

There was a moment of charged silence, both of them clearly unsure of how to proceed. Then, almost simultaneously, they both leaned in.

The kiss was sweet, a little awkward, but filled with promise. As they pulled apart, Rosie felt a girlish giggle bubble up inside her.

"What's so funny?" Mike asked, looking amused.

Rosie shook her head, still smiling. "Nothing. It's just... I feel like a teenager again. In a good way."

Mike's smile widened. "Me too. Listen, Rosie... I'd really like to see you again. If you're interested, that is."

"I'd like that very much," Rosie said, surprised at how easily the words came.

As Mike walked back to his car, Rosie let herself into the house, her heart light and her cheeks hurting from smiling. She kicked off her shoes and was about to head upstairs when she noticed a light on in the living room.

Curious, she peeked in - and found all four of her friends sprawled across her furniture, fast asleep. Empty wine glasses and snack bowls littered the coffee table, and Emma was snoring softly, a fashion magazine draped across her face.

Rosie felt a rush of affection for these women who had quite literally waited up for her. She tiptoed over to the hall closet and pulled out a stack of blankets, gently draping one over each of her sleeping friends.

As she turned out the light and headed up to bed.

How lovely was this? A date with handsome doctor A few months ago, she'd been feeling lost and alone. Now, she had a group of amazing friends, a potential new romance, and a sense of excitement about the future that she hadn't felt in years.

"Sixty and just getting started," she murmured to herself as she climbed into bed. "Who would have thought?"

With a contented sigh, Rosie drifted off to sleep, already looking forward to sharing every detail of her date with her friends in the morning. The Sensational Sixties Squad had another adventure to dissect, and Rosie couldn't wait.