the ends.
Noah looked at me with a confused expression on his face.
“I thought you wanted pancakes?!” It was more of a statement than a question.
“I do,” I replied happily.
Then, without looking up from her pad of paper, Terry said, “The combo comes with pancakes, honey. She's going to eat yours.” When she was done writing she looked up and winked at Noah.
“Of course, she is,” he muttered as he handed the menus back to Terry and she scurried off to put our orders in to the kitchen.
Breakfast came and went; still Noah and I remained in that little booth. We spent hours talking and laughing about nothing and everything. Taking the conversation through twists and turns, allowing it to grow more serious at times, before taking it back to a light-hearted chatter, all the while, fitting in some bickering and friendly debating, as it continued to evolve.
“I still can't believe you made that girl leave, so that you could have brunch with us,” I said as I poured a very large amount of sugar into what may have been my fifth cup of coffee at that point.
“Why? That's not exactly what I invited her over for...,” he stated it as though he was making a valid point.
“You are such a jackass,” I retorted.
“What, am I like, supposed to be offended by that?” he replied unfazed.
“I would be, if I were you...” I suggested before taking a sip of my coffee.
Noah thought about it for a moment and then started shaking his head. Clearly, he had come up with a counter argument.
“No, you wouldn't. How often do you get called a bitch and you don't even bat an eye lash?!” It was hard not to laugh as he became more animated and began waving his arms around as if that would in some way help him win his case.
“See, but I don't mind being called a bitch, because I know the true meaning of the word,” I calmly replied, as I carefully set down my hot mug. Noah was all too eager to hear this.
“Oh yeah? And what's that?”
I smiled and slowly explained, “Well, B-I-T-C-H stands for beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, caring and honest...and you know, it's the honesty thing that always gives us a bad rap.” Feeling rather confident, I leaned back against the cushions and waited for Noah’s response. He appeared to be mulling the whole thing over.
“Beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, caring... honest... wait, what does the T stand for?” He stopped and looked at me. For a moment I wasn’t sure if he was being serious, but when he didn’t say anything else I had to assume that he really was a moron after all and gave him a look that conveyed that opinion quite clearly.
“Oh right, thoughtful,” he finally said when he realized his mistake.
I sat up and pointed my finger at him, “And that's why there's no ‘I’ in jackass.” Then I leaned back again, laughing at him rather loudly. Noah in return retaliated by chucking a half-eaten piece of cantaloupe in my direction. Lucky for him, he just nearly missed the side of my head.
Our conversation took another turn and before we knew it, another hour had passed. It wasn’t until I caught a glimpse of the ember glows of the morning light through one of the back windows, that I realized how long we had been there.
“Oh wow, it's after 6 already,” I said after glancing at my phone to check the time.
“We better get going,” Noah said as he reached across the table for his wallet and keys.
“That's right, don't want to be late for church,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.
“No, I don't,” Noah replied, completely serious. He pulled some cash out of his wallet to pay the tab and cover a rather hefty tip, given that we had spent the entire night at Terry’s table. Then we left the diner and made the five minute hike back to the bar, where we had left our cars. The sun was just popping up on the horizon as I got into my SUV and made the drive back home.
Chapter 8
First Dates And Other Minor Disasters
It
Noah looked at me with a confused expression on his face.
“I thought you wanted pancakes?!” It was more of a statement than a question.
“I do,” I replied happily.
Then, without looking up from her pad of paper, Terry said, “The combo comes with pancakes, honey. She's going to eat yours.” When she was done writing she looked up and winked at Noah.
“Of course, she is,” he muttered as he handed the menus back to Terry and she scurried off to put our orders in to the kitchen.
Breakfast came and went; still Noah and I remained in that little booth. We spent hours talking and laughing about nothing and everything. Taking the conversation through twists and turns, allowing it to grow more serious at times, before taking it back to a light-hearted chatter, all the while, fitting in some bickering and friendly debating, as it continued to evolve.
“I still can't believe you made that girl leave, so that you could have brunch with us,” I said as I poured a very large amount of sugar into what may have been my fifth cup of coffee at that point.
“Why? That's not exactly what I invited her over for...,” he stated it as though he was making a valid point.
“You are such a jackass,” I retorted.
“What, am I like, supposed to be offended by that?” he replied unfazed.
“I would be, if I were you...” I suggested before taking a sip of my coffee.
Noah thought about it for a moment and then started shaking his head. Clearly, he had come up with a counter argument.
“No, you wouldn't. How often do you get called a bitch and you don't even bat an eye lash?!” It was hard not to laugh as he became more animated and began waving his arms around as if that would in some way help him win his case.
“See, but I don't mind being called a bitch, because I know the true meaning of the word,” I calmly replied, as I carefully set down my hot mug. Noah was all too eager to hear this.
“Oh yeah? And what's that?”
I smiled and slowly explained, “Well, B-I-T-C-H stands for beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, caring and honest...and you know, it's the honesty thing that always gives us a bad rap.” Feeling rather confident, I leaned back against the cushions and waited for Noah’s response. He appeared to be mulling the whole thing over.
“Beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, caring... honest... wait, what does the T stand for?” He stopped and looked at me. For a moment I wasn’t sure if he was being serious, but when he didn’t say anything else I had to assume that he really was a moron after all and gave him a look that conveyed that opinion quite clearly.
“Oh right, thoughtful,” he finally said when he realized his mistake.
I sat up and pointed my finger at him, “And that's why there's no ‘I’ in jackass.” Then I leaned back again, laughing at him rather loudly. Noah in return retaliated by chucking a half-eaten piece of cantaloupe in my direction. Lucky for him, he just nearly missed the side of my head.
Our conversation took another turn and before we knew it, another hour had passed. It wasn’t until I caught a glimpse of the ember glows of the morning light through one of the back windows, that I realized how long we had been there.
“Oh wow, it's after 6 already,” I said after glancing at my phone to check the time.
“We better get going,” Noah said as he reached across the table for his wallet and keys.
“That's right, don't want to be late for church,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.
“No, I don't,” Noah replied, completely serious. He pulled some cash out of his wallet to pay the tab and cover a rather hefty tip, given that we had spent the entire night at Terry’s table. Then we left the diner and made the five minute hike back to the bar, where we had left our cars. The sun was just popping up on the horizon as I got into my SUV and made the drive back home.
Chapter 8
First Dates And Other Minor Disasters
It
Similar Books
