Ena bought two tickets after their fourth lunch together. She and Luka worked in neighboring workshops: hers repaired musical instruments, while his made picture frames. For months they had shared a bench behind the building and discussed everything except whether their lunches were dates. A play seemed a simple way to find out without actually asking the question.
When she showed him the tickets, Luka looked first at the date and then at the theater. He thanked her but said he could not go. He did not suggest another evening. Ena put the tickets in her pocket and ate indoors the next day, surrounded by dismantled violins. She felt embarrassed that she had settled the place, the time, and the nature of their relationship without him.
On Friday he brought over a framed photograph for a customer. As he was leaving, he paused and said he could not follow performances in that auditorium. He had some hearing loss, and captions were provided only at certain performances. At lunch he sat facing her because that made speech easier to understand. She had assumed that his attention to her lips was particularly meaningful.
"You could have told me," she answered too quickly. Luka carefully set the empty wrapping on the table. "You could have asked whether I wanted to see that play at all." Then both of them laughed, briefly and with some embarrassment. The title promised a comedy about people who talked too much and heard nothing. It did not seem a particularly good choice.
Ena gave the tickets to her sister. She did not immediately buy replacements. At their next lunch she asked Luka what he liked doing after closing his shop. He pulled out a small notebook containing sketches of old signs he found around town. She showed him a map of places where she had played music in the street as a student. Some overlapped. She had passed one for years without noticing the faded lettering above its passageway.
They agreed to take a walk on Sunday. Luka chose the route, and Ena chose the time. When the passage became too noisy, they stopped in a quiet side street and continued their conversation. They did not try to fix the whole evening in advance; they simply changed where they were standing.
Outside her house, Luka asked whether she would go on a proper date with him next time. Ena said they had just been on one. "Good," he replied. "Then I've already prepared my question for the second." He did not produce any tickets. He waited until she was looking at him.