I pause at a stop sign, waving for Mrs. Glendenning to go ahead in her old gray clunker of a car. Then my body surges with determination and I turn my truck around to go back downtown. I park directly in front of Charming Café and stride in as if I know what the heck I'm about to say.
"Hux!" My younger sister Desire pops her head up from where she's arranging cookies in the display case. "Need more coffee?"
"I was wondering if I could please speak to Willa, if she’s still here?"
A head of wavy dark blonde hair pops out of the back kitchen and she approaches nervously, her teeth scraping lightly across her plush bottom lip and her delicate fingers fiddling with the bottom edge of her shirt. She's dressed casually, in jeans and a long-sleeved navy t-shirt, but still manages to look utterly glamorous, her soft, elegant features accented with just a small flick of eyeliner.
I wave her over to the end of the counter so we can have a moment of relative privacy. Looking down between us, there's a hand lettered cardboard sign that reads, “Charms by Willa” next to a small piece of tree branch draped with jewelry. It's mostly copper and silver wire fashioned into spirals and twists wrapped around small stones.
"These are really cute." I lift one of the charms with my finger to take a closer look. "Meticulous metalwork. I’m impressed."
Willa beams. "Thank you! I've only been doing it for about a year and a half, but it feels incredible to create things with my hands."
"Like raspberry Danish?" My eyebrow quirks up.
Her lips quiver as she tries to suppress a giggle, then fails. "I'm so sorry about that."
"Don't be." I smile, placing my hands firmly on the counter to stop myself from reaching out to stroke her hair. "Actually – yes.Be sorry. Be completely, utterly sorry. And then you can make it up to me by letting me take you to dinner tonight."
She freezes in place, blinking slowly before she finally speaks. "Really?"
"Really. Have you been to Betty's Bistro yet?"
"No, but I've heard it's fun."
"Perfect. I haven't gone out to have fun in far too long. What time can I pick you up?"
"Oh! I'm finished at three. So anytime after four?—"
"Let's say four-thirty. We can have an early dinner, before it gets busy."
She gives me the address, and I reach out for her hand, kissing the back of it gently. "See you soon, beautiful."
I'm not sure why, but I adore how stunned Willa seems. Does she not have guys asking her out every ten seconds? Has she never been on a proper date before?
On the drive back to my house, it hits me just how long it's been sinceI'vebeen on a date. Certainly not in this…I do the math…decade. Ouch.
The split second I'm home, I text my sister.
Hey – can you please give me the scoop on Willa?
Desire: LOL! What kind of scoop? She's a little shorter than me, like, around 5 foot 5. 21 years old. Really AMAZING at rolling dough – her thumb is the perfect shape for crimping tarts.
How long has she been in town? Is she planning to stay here permanently?
Desire: She moved here about 3 weeks ago, staying with her aunt. It might just be for the summer, but she wasn’t sure. Want me to ask?
No.
I'll ask her everything else myself. Thanks!
Desire: You're very welcome, big bro. For the record, she's a really lovely person. I have a good feeling about the two of you.
Thanks again.
I’ll say it: normally I kinda dismiss Desire's "good feelings". She always thinks she's more in touch with the universe than the average person and claims she can pick up vibes or whatever.
This time, though, I’m choosing to believe her.