“Ready to order?” a familiar voice intruded into her now interrupted thoughts.
“I think we are,” she answered enthusiastically.
Mason was a very heavy eater and didn’t hesitate to order his version of a hearty breakfast: pancakes, scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, sausage, ham, a side of hash browns, and a carafe of orange juice. Sydney couldn’t help but look at him in awe while he ran down his order.
“Either you are really hungry or extremely nervous.”
“Probably a little of both,” he admitted. Please tell me I didn’t just say that out loud, he thought.
But he had, and although it was unexpected, she found it rather cute.
When it came time for her to order she was a little more modest. She ordered a ‘Southern Omelet’ and a hot chocolate with whipped cream on top. Very light and, in a way, proportionate to her figure. The waitress slid the receipt book back into her pocket and returned shortly after with their drinks.
“So how long were you waiting before I got here?” he asked.
The hot chocolate had just grazed her upper lip, leaving a tiny speck of whipped cream when she sat the cup down.
“Every bit of forty-five minutes,” she answered with a hint of humor. “I was beginning to think you stood me up.”
Mason was reluctant to laugh, although a slight smile curved the top of his lip. The last thing he wanted to do was have her thinking he stood her up.
“It’s okay,” she reassured him. “You’re here.”
Chapter 13
It was almost as if their conversation from the night before had never ended. They talked and laughed as people who walked in for lunch came and went. She was so eloquently animated when she spoke that it caused him to smile more at her gestures and facial expressions than her actual words. It seemed like once she started she didn’t stop. For him, that was a good thing. The more she spoke the fewer questions he had to think of to keep the conversation going. There were moments when their hands exchanged touches of innocent flirtation, and when there was silence their eyes spoke more than words ever could. He was as lost in her gaze as she was in his.
The waitress made her rounds clearing and collecting her tips from every table around them before she finally reached theirs. “How is everything?”
Sipping the last bit of orange juice from his glass, but never breaking his eyes away from Sydney, “Perfect,” he answered. “Everything was perfect.”
She removed the empty plates and glasses and left the check sitting on the edge of the table. “I’ll take that when you’re ready,” she said, walking towards the kitchen.
They were far from being ready. Even though they had eaten and the plates had been cleared from the table, neither of them wanted to leave just yet.
“So I’ve been meaning to ask you what made you leave me on hold for so long last night?”
“Maybe because you called me at two, o’clock in the morning,” she laughed. “I actually just wanted to see if you were going to hang up or not.”
“Twenty minutes though?” he reiterated.
Shrugging her shoulders, “You could have hung up,” she suggested with a sly grin.
“I could have,” he laughed.
They didn’t think it was a problem, so they sat at the table a little longer than usual once it had been cleared. The check was still sitting towards the edge and neither one of them had paid much attention to it since it had been placed there. After noticing their waitress walk by the table a number of times, Sydney started to feel a little uncomfortable.
“I think we should go,” she whispered. “She’s walked past us five times.”
Noticing the waitress staring back at them from across the diner, he laughed, “I think you’re right. I guess we’ve outstayed our welcome. I’ll be right back” he said, reaching into his pocket to pay the bill.
Sydney waited at the table, completely flustered and thoroughly infatuated. Watching him walk away, she tried her best to conceal her smile but she couldn’t. By then, him being late was no longer a factor. She liked him; she really, really liked him.
Although she hadn’t taken much thought into Mason’s perception of the afternoon thus far, the feelings seemed more than mutual.
Standing at the register, he caught himself smiling at random thoughts, with a light chuckle at remembered jokes as the cashier changed his twenty-dollar bill, leaving a few singles in his hand. The way he felt was so far out of character for him but, ironically, he liked it. He walked back to the table with a different stride in his step, a different look in his eyes, and an overall different approach to this woman who sat across from him. He held out his hand to help her from her chair.
“Aren’t you just the gentleman?”
“I try,” he modestly agreed.
They walked toward the door, close to holding hands but not, though strangely wanting to.
“I’m really glad we did this,” she said, walking through the door he held open for her.
The time had escaped them into early afternoon. It was warm outside with a comforting, cool breeze. Most of the cars had left the parking lot, leaving only a few remaining. She didn’t think any of them could be Mason’s. One was an old Buick and the other minivan she was sure belonged to the noisy family they had walked past on their way out.
“Where’d you park?” Mason asked her, throwing on his jacket.
“I took the bus,” she answered, looking over to the bus stop. “My car is parked in my driveway until I can get it fixed, so it’s public transportation for me for a while.”
“Wow, you really took the bus here?”
“And to think…I was the one on time,” she laughed. “So let’s see, are you the Buick or the minivan?” She asked, pointing and laughing.
“First of all I respect Buick, but I will never ever drive a minivan.” He paused. “That’s me right there.”
He stood at the edge of the walkway and pointed towards the side of the building, where there was a motorcycle parked beside it. It wasn’t an actual parking space, but he made it work. The motorcycle was big enough to accommodate his masculine build, but small enough to fit on the side without making it difficult to walk around. The reflection of the sunlight bouncing off of the chrome exhaust and wheels was blinding as Mason walked towards it.
“Mason, please tell me that’s not yours?” she asked.
He noticed she wouldn’t walk too close to it, and when she did her steps were tense and her hands tight. She had never been on a motorcycle, for obvious reasons. Compared to her four-wheeled car, two wheels and less security meant less safety.
Mason had a sense of arrogance when climbing onto the motorcycle, one that was attractively apparent to her. She didn’t say anything at first, watching him straddle the bike and standing it upright.
“Well, um, please be safe on that thing,” she urged him.
Mason leaned forward on his helmet with a pondering and almost cunning look on his face.
His eyebrow slightly rose as he tilted his head her direction “What else are you doing today?” he asked her inquisitively.
“Nothing,” she answered apprehensively, yet indirectly inviting.
He stood straight up with the motorcycle still beneath him and looked at her with a daring gaze.
“Hop on!” he suggested.
Her eyebrows rose as if he had clearly lost his mind.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all….hop on!” He said again, holding his helmet out towards her.
There was no question; she was nervous. So nervous that when she tried to speak, even as the words formed on the tip of her tongue she still couldn’t get them out past a stutter. Before she could force out a word to express how she felt about getting on, he reached out and took her hand, pulling her towards him. Once she was in front of him he slid his helmet onto her head, leaving the visor open. The look in his eyes said trust me. Everything inside of her told her not to; that she couldn’t, that she woul
d be a fool to trust him. What if I fall off? What if he goes too fast? What if? Even all of her what ifs had no real restraint against his charm and wit. In less than a few seconds she found herself climbing onto the back of his motorcycle and wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him harder than she had ever held anyone before.
She could feel the vibration of the engine moving up her legs as he revved the throttle. “Only around the corner…and you’ll bring me right back, right?” she yelled over the loud rumble of the exhaust.
She felt his chest jump in a deceptive laugh.
“Of course” he yelled, nodding his head with little assurance.
“I don’t believe you,” she yelled out.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Too late now!”
Chapter 14
The wind blew aggressively against both of them, but his body blocked the majority of it from her. At every turn or increase of speed she grabbed him even harder. The harder she grabbed him, the faster he went. He wasn’t too careless in obeying the traffic laws, but he really enjoyed the way it felt –her arms wrapped around him, gripping his chest, and her body pressed into his close enough to feel when she would breathe and when she held her breath. He enjoyed that almost more than the ride itself.
At that point they were far from going just around the corner. He had no idea where they were headed, and neither did she, so for a while they just rode. The longer and the farther out they got, though, something about that ride was different the way he tightened his jaw while riding or in the rhythm of his breathing. This ride wouldn’t let him stop, wouldn’t let him pull to the side or slow down when he really didn’t have to. Even the road that he had traveled many times before didn’t quite feel the same. He didn’t quite feel the same. It wasn’t the distance, the weather, or the absence of traffic that allowed him to feel like it was just them; it seemed the longer they rode and the harder she held him, that it was her. She was becoming that difference. He found himself starting to be okay with the way he felt, and even more so the way she was making him feel. He was never one that ‘felt’ easily or believed in this whole love and caring thing, or even the idea of an evolving infatuation. Whatever this was that was beginning with her, however, he liked it. From the look in her eyes, filled with the reflection of the over passing clouds and blue sky, so did she.
They passed over one of the most beautiful bridges in the state. It wasn’t much, but the yellow architectural lines that formed into waved pyramid shapes down its center always seemed to focus him. What focused him even more was at the bridges highest peak: all there was left to see was the blue sky and the clouds that filled it.
It became obvious to both of them that there was a romance developing between them, unexpected but undeniable. Sydney clenched Mason’s chest, trying to convince herself that what she was feeling at that moment wasn’t right. It was far too soon, and after all, she knew his type. However, through the fear and the deep swallowed breaths that accompanied her nerves and uncertainty she was also hopeful.
The once brightened sky had become consumed by the fading colors of night, and like a moth to a flame, the two hadn’t left each other since that initial spark.
As the day progressed, they made as much out of it as they possibly could. They stopped at the mall and walked around for a bit. After leaving there, they pulled alongside the road when they spotted a small lake. They didn’t stay long, and the reason for them stopping had little to do with the lake itself. It was just another excuse to slow down a day that neither of them wanted to end. He felt the warmth of her hand graze his palm and interlace with his fingers as she walked up from behind him. And although she couldn’t see it, his smile was content. He was at a loss for words at how natural this felt –walking with her, laughing with her, and just talking. He had never let himself get this far before. He never allowed anyone to get this close. Regardless, here they were, a day unplanned full of moments that were at one point foreign to him.
They walked along the stone bridge lining the side of the road and stared down at the evening reflection shimmering across the water. Neither of them said a word, they just listened as the passing cars whisked behind them and the winds delicately pushed the water to the lake’s edge. Mason, leaning forward against the side of the bridge, nervously moved his eyes from the water and looked off in the opposite direction. A part of him was still trying to figure all of it out what he was really doing, and Sydney could tell.
She rested her hand on top of his and pulled his attention back to her. “Let’s go,” she suggested, warming him with her smile.
Heading back from the lake, Mason noticed a carnival not too far off of the highway ahead of him. It was almost impossible to miss even at a distance, with its spinning Ferris wheel and bright lights. He couldn’t ask her if she wanted to go because he was riding too fast. As he got closer, though, he thought, why not? It’ll be fun. He turned off the highway and Sydney hadn’t even noticed the detour from home. Her eyes were closed with her head resting on his back until he slowly approached the carnival and she heard the crunching of the gravel as he pulled into the parking area.
When she looked up and saw where they were, her eyes filled with a childlike excitement. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a carnival, and Mason hadn’t been since he was a child. In a way, he was just now starting to see all of the fun things he was missing out on when actually spending time with someone.
The smell of funnel cake and popcorn was alluring leading into the carnival. They walked hand in hand like high school sweethearts, with barely inches between them. Mason had stopped along the way at a food vendor and picked up a cotton candy for her and something to drink. Riding for long periods of time tended to make him very thirsty. They walked through the carnival, through crowds of mostly young high school kids nervously rushing to the flying saucer ride. Families with smaller kids were sitting in a pavilion listening to a live band play, eating funnel cakes and hot dogs. This is really nice, he thought. There were moments where they caught a single smile from each other, filled with pure enjoyment from just being together. More than that, it was the moments where they caught themselves staring with no intentions on ever turning away that made them both wonder if this would be the first night of many together.
Laughter from the Ferris wheel and the merry-go-round along with the acoustics of carnival music set a playful tone. They walked past a number of stands where stuffed animals hung from the corners of the tents and lined the ground.
“Winner winner chicken dinner!” one of the game hosts yelled out.
“Win the lady a prize!” said another as they passed.
Mason looked over his shoulder, intrigued by King of the Hammer. It was a strength game where contestants swung a hammer against a block to try to ring the bell at the top. Sydney hadn’t noticed that Mason stopped and was still walking until she realized he was no longer beside her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, noticing him standing and staring at the game.
The wheels in his head were turning, trying to figure out the trick to the game. There has to be one, he thought. He stood back and watched a number of people swing the hammer as hard as they could, trying to ring the bell at the top.
His arms were folded and his chin rested between his thumb and index finger. “There’s a certain way you have to hit it,” he hinted to her.
He looked at Sydney as though he had it all figured out. He was as sure as could be when he got in line to swing the hammer.
Sydney stood back with a smirk, betting the odds. No one ever wins this game, she said to herself.
He picked up the hammer and struck the scale, shooting the ball straight up. They both stood and watched as it climbed and climbed. The look in his eye was sure he had it, but at its peak the ball had fallen short of ringing the bell. Sydney laughed, turning away. He was so sure he would reach it but she knew the entire time that he wouldn’t. Although he wasn’t the big winner, he did hit it
pretty high compared to some of the others. The young boy running the game reached behind the booth and pulled out a stuffed puppy that was small enough to fit in his hand. He snickered a little, handing that small stuffed animal to such a massive man. Mason took it and handed it to Sydney, laughing off his embarrassment.
“Now you have something to remember me by,” he said.
She fell into him with laughter, taking the stuffed animal from him
“It’s soooooo cute. Thank you Mason.”
She moved in closer to him, almost kissing him, but caught herself before he noticed. She didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, and she quickly reminded herself of the type of guy he really was.
She watched him walk a few steps in front of her. For those brief moments her thoughts began to consume her, and more so, her doubts began to consume her. There was no reason a man would spend his entire day with a woman unless he expected something from her in return. Not that she would even consider giving him anything more than a light kiss on the cheek, but he would definitely want more. So far Mason had paid for brunch, lunch, dinner, taken her on an unexpected trip to a lake, and now he’d won her a stuffed animal at the carnival. He has to want something, she thought. All of it was too good to be true without a price
They walked through the carnival, played a few more games, and within the hour were headed back to the parking lot. Mason threw his leg over the motorcycle, waiting for her to hop on the back, but she didn’t, get on at first.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing a saddened the look on her face.
She shook her head with a tight smile. “Nothing,” she assured him.
Where We Left Off Page 7
