Perfect Summer by Bethany Lopez
Mitch
As I drove past Serenity, I wondered how bad Faith’s hangover had been the morning after Pony Up.
She’d been pretty hammered. So much so that she’d passed out in my passenger seat before we’d even made it out of the parking lot. I chuckled to myself when her soft snores filled the cab of my truck.
Although I’d never been there, living in Mason Creek meant I’d known the second she’d bought the old Carson house, which was only minutes away from the pub. When we arrived, I got out and walked around to open her door and wake her up.
When she was awake enough to make it up to her front door, I walked her there, saw she made it safely inside, and then turned to go home myself. I knew she wouldn’t appreciate me going inside, at least not in an inebriated state, so I left her be and prayed she had the foresight to take some ibuprofen and water before she passed out.
I’d spent my morning meeting with two prospective clients and was on my way to grab some lunch before I started a new project that afternoon. It was an exterior paint job on a one-level house, so I wasn’t anticipating a late night. Still, it always helped for me to work on a full stomach. Didn’t want to get hangry on a job.
Once I found a parking spot, I walked down Town Square until I reached Wrens Café, the local diner.
I was a regular, as was half the town, and was trying to decide if I wanted a burger or club sandwich when I reached the door. As I walked through the dining room, I said hi and nodded at the locals, then looked at Ashley and said, “It’s a nice day so I’m going to sit outside.”
She nodded in acknowledgment and replied, “I’ll be out in just a moment.”
When I got out onto the patio, I looked around for an open seat and my stomach clenched when I saw Faith sitting by herself at one of the square bistro tables.
Her hair was up in a high ponytail, leaving her long neck exposed, and I had a sudden memory of trailing my lips down the exposed flesh. A tug of desire replaced my nerves and I started toward her table.
“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” I said in my friendliest tone. “We went from never seeing each other to running into each other everywhere.”
Faith looked up from her BLT and gave me a small smile.
“Hi … yeah. Funny how that happens.”
“Do you mind if I join you?” I asked, gesturing toward the open seat across from her.
“Not at all,” she replied, and since she sounded sincere, I sat.
“Sorry, Mitch, what can I get for you?” Ashley asked as she rushed over to the table.
“I’m thinking the club sandwich with fries today, Ash.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks,” I replied, before turning my attention back to Faith.
“I should have gotten the fries,” she said wistfully, taking a forkful of her side salad.
“You always did have the habit of not ordering fries and then stealing all of mine,” I said, easing back in my chair.
“Not all,” she protested. “Maybe half.”
I chuckled in response and asked, “Did you feel okay the other morning?”
Faith groaned and shook her head. “I’m never drinking tequila again.”
“Famous last words…”
“Thanks for taking me home. It was really sweet of you.”
“Anytime,” I said, a little surprised to realize I meant it. “It’s good to have you back, ya know. I know things didn’t necessarily end well between us, and I’d actually love to have a chat about all that some time, but after all of these years, it’s really good to see you around Mason Creek again. I missed you.”
Faith’s eyes widened with surprise, and then she shocked me by saying, “I missed you, too. And you’re right, we do need to have a discussion. But I’d rather it not be in the middle of the lunch rush at Wrens.”
“Agreed,” I replied, then thanked Ashley when she placed my food in front of me.
I dug in happily, reveling in the crispy, flavorful bacon and saltiness of the fries. When I looked up and noticed Faith looking at my fries longingly, I said, “Help yourself.”
Faith blinked and embarrassment crossed her features.
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” she said, pushing her empty plate to the side. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“If you say so,” I said, picking up the ketchup and squirting a big glob of it on the side of my plate.
I watched her watching my hand as I picked up a fry, dipped it generously in the ketchup, and brought it to my lips. When her gaze followed, I winked at her and put the whole thing in my mouth.
“That’s just mean.”
Faith’s weakness growing up had always been fries and ketchup.
Sometimes we’d grab a bag to go and walk around Town Square eating them as a delicious treat. Of course, Faith had always ended up taking the bag and finishing them off, but I was the one who had to order them.
“Nice to know some things haven’t changed,” I said softly, pushing my plate a little closer to her.
When she absently picked up a fry and doused it with ketchup, I couldn’t help but grin.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” Faith said, her voice containing something I couldn’t quite name.
“Sure, I have. We both have. Time and life change us all, at least a little bit.”
She nodded absently and said it was time she got back to the salon, so we said our goodbyes and I finished my meal, my mind wandering back to her, and our past, and I found myself eagerly anticipating the next time we crossed paths.
Hopefully we’ll get to have that conversation sooner rather than later.