last Friday night?”
****
Paisley
I sat in my car and scraped my top teeth along my bottom lip, contemplating whether or not to have coffee with him. But really, what was the harm? I couldn’t come up with an excuse quickly enough, so I said yes. Ben smiled and asked me where I wanted to go.
“There’s a Starbucks right down the street. We could walk,” I said as I climbed out of my car.
“Starbucks it is, then.” He smiled.
I could already tell this was going to be one of those awkward moments where neither one of us knew what to say next.
“How was surfing last week?” he asked.
I let out a sigh of relief that he started the conversation. “It was nice. It felt good to hit the waves again.”
“Again?”
“Yeah. I don’t do much surfing since—” I looked down.
“If I surfed, I probably wouldn’t have either.”
I looked up at him and smiled because he got it; he understood. “My brother, Keaton, the guy who I was with, really didn’t give me a choice. He just kind of showed up at my house and dragged me out.”
“Yep. I have one of those brothers too, except his name is Finn.”
“Isn’t it just annoying that family thinks they know what’s best for you?”
“Totally annoying. My parents and my brother are constantly trying to get me to go out. What they don’t realize is that I don’t want to and, if I did, I would.”
“Yes! Exactly.” I smiled.
We reached Starbucks and Ben held open the door for me. “What would you like? It’s on me,” he said.
“No. I can pay for my own.”
“I know you can, but I’m a guy. How would I look up at the counter if I let you pay for your own coffee, considering we came in together? I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Is that so?” I laughed.
“It is.”
“Fine. Then the next coffee is on me.”
“There’s going to be a next coffee?” He smiled.
I shook my head and it was our turn to order. As Ben took his wallet from his pocket, I noticed he was still wearing his wedding band, just like I was. We took our coffees and sat at a table by the window. I didn’t know what I was feeling at that moment. I was nervous, scared, excited, happy; all of the above.
“What do you do for a living, Ben?” I boldly asked.
“I’m a firefighter. I work for the LAFD.”
That explained the buff body.
“What do you do?” he asked with a smile.
“I write for a column at the L.A. Times .”
He cocked his head. “What kind of column?”
“Relationships and love. Don’t judge.”
“Wow. That’s great. Do you have a name you go by for your column?”
“You’re not going to look me up, are you?” I asked.
“No. Should I?”
“No. I laughed. “I write under Dear Paisley.”
“Nice.” He smiled as he sipped his coffee.
“So I take it you’ve never heard of Dear Paisley?” I asked with the hopes that he hadn’t.
“No, I haven’t. But I think now I’ll subscribe to the L.A. Times so I can read your column.”
“Don’t you dare.” I laughed.
Laughing. That was something I hadn’t done in a long time and it felt good.
“Who taught you how to surf?” he asked.
“I taught myself.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I smiled as I brought the coffee cup up to my lips. “My family loved the beach. My mom took us every weekend to unwind from the long school week. She told us to forget about school for a day and just have fun.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Three. Two sisters and Keaton. I used to sit on the sand and watch the surfers carry their surfboards down to the water and get in. I thought it was so cool that you could actually ride a wave and I wanted to do it. A friend of mine had a sister who was away at college, so she let me use her surfboard to practice. I would sit on my board in the water and just watch people. I’d watch the way they positioned their feet and bodies so they could hold their balance. It took a while, but I learned and I loved it. When Keaton was old enough, I taught him to
****
Paisley
I sat in my car and scraped my top teeth along my bottom lip, contemplating whether or not to have coffee with him. But really, what was the harm? I couldn’t come up with an excuse quickly enough, so I said yes. Ben smiled and asked me where I wanted to go.
“There’s a Starbucks right down the street. We could walk,” I said as I climbed out of my car.
“Starbucks it is, then.” He smiled.
I could already tell this was going to be one of those awkward moments where neither one of us knew what to say next.
“How was surfing last week?” he asked.
I let out a sigh of relief that he started the conversation. “It was nice. It felt good to hit the waves again.”
“Again?”
“Yeah. I don’t do much surfing since—” I looked down.
“If I surfed, I probably wouldn’t have either.”
I looked up at him and smiled because he got it; he understood. “My brother, Keaton, the guy who I was with, really didn’t give me a choice. He just kind of showed up at my house and dragged me out.”
“Yep. I have one of those brothers too, except his name is Finn.”
“Isn’t it just annoying that family thinks they know what’s best for you?”
“Totally annoying. My parents and my brother are constantly trying to get me to go out. What they don’t realize is that I don’t want to and, if I did, I would.”
“Yes! Exactly.” I smiled.
We reached Starbucks and Ben held open the door for me. “What would you like? It’s on me,” he said.
“No. I can pay for my own.”
“I know you can, but I’m a guy. How would I look up at the counter if I let you pay for your own coffee, considering we came in together? I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Is that so?” I laughed.
“It is.”
“Fine. Then the next coffee is on me.”
“There’s going to be a next coffee?” He smiled.
I shook my head and it was our turn to order. As Ben took his wallet from his pocket, I noticed he was still wearing his wedding band, just like I was. We took our coffees and sat at a table by the window. I didn’t know what I was feeling at that moment. I was nervous, scared, excited, happy; all of the above.
“What do you do for a living, Ben?” I boldly asked.
“I’m a firefighter. I work for the LAFD.”
That explained the buff body.
“What do you do?” he asked with a smile.
“I write for a column at the L.A. Times .”
He cocked his head. “What kind of column?”
“Relationships and love. Don’t judge.”
“Wow. That’s great. Do you have a name you go by for your column?”
“You’re not going to look me up, are you?” I asked.
“No. Should I?”
“No. I laughed. “I write under Dear Paisley.”
“Nice.” He smiled as he sipped his coffee.
“So I take it you’ve never heard of Dear Paisley?” I asked with the hopes that he hadn’t.
“No, I haven’t. But I think now I’ll subscribe to the L.A. Times so I can read your column.”
“Don’t you dare.” I laughed.
Laughing. That was something I hadn’t done in a long time and it felt good.
“Who taught you how to surf?” he asked.
“I taught myself.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I smiled as I brought the coffee cup up to my lips. “My family loved the beach. My mom took us every weekend to unwind from the long school week. She told us to forget about school for a day and just have fun.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Three. Two sisters and Keaton. I used to sit on the sand and watch the surfers carry their surfboards down to the water and get in. I thought it was so cool that you could actually ride a wave and I wanted to do it. A friend of mine had a sister who was away at college, so she let me use her surfboard to practice. I would sit on my board in the water and just watch people. I’d watch the way they positioned their feet and bodies so they could hold their balance. It took a while, but I learned and I loved it. When Keaton was old enough, I taught him to
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