“You still look gorgeous,” I said, and led her back to her car, waiting for her to get in and drive away.
As I got into my own car, I glanced toward the Bean and caught Audrey and Roderick ducking away from the window. Knowing they’d been watching, I had to chuckle. It didn’t bother me a bit.
14
Murphy
“See ya on Saturday,” I said on Thursday while walking out of the Bean, too jumpy with nerves to even let the ya bother me. The old Murphy would have never used such slang. Good old Mom would have been sitting on my shoulder, shaking her head.
With anxiety rattling through every bone in my body, I tried to still my mind. Perhaps the latte in my hand was a bad idea, but Ben was picking me up later, and I couldn’t recall being this nervous in a long time. It was hard not to keep thinking about high school, because that was the only reference point I had when it came to him.
During those years, our relationship came easy. But then again, it was mostly behind closed doors.
Sliding into my car, wedging my newly minted, limited-release Busy Bean Yeti into my cracked cup holder, I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Scolding myself for wasting time, I sped home to work on a few advance posts for Hunnie. She’d loved the family-based slogans I’d been doing, and apparently, her clicks and sales were starting to climb.
After downing my coffee, jumping in the shower, and curling up in my robe on my bed, I wrote three new story lines for Hunnie’s social media, and then made the mistake of spending some time on my own.
Like an idiot, I clicked on a link for an article in the society section of the New York Post.
landon family moving on and about the city without their daughter
Former State Representative Marshall Landon and his wife, Lyssa, were seen last week at the annual Firefighters Benefit sans their daughter.
The couple’s only child, Murphy Landon, usually attended the event each year with her parents, and was a boon to Landon during his last run for office. Parading Ms. Landon and her undeniable wealth of community service plus her fluff job in the Ivy League around town was a tactic Mr. Landon used for years. The father-daughter duo were photographed more than any other pair. Always smiling, Ms. Landon never let the crowd down.
Last year, we reported about her illicit relationship with a twenty-five-year-old graduate student at the Ivy League university where she worked as a student advisor, and we have learned that Ms. Landon has recently left her position. When interviewed last year, Ms. Landon maintained that she didn’t know he was a student at the school where she worked, and that the pair only went on a few dates and were not intimate. Her parents have been surprisingly quiet on the issue, stating ‘it’s nonsense’ and ‘no comment.’
It’s rumored that Mr. and Mrs. Landon have sent their daughter away to repair her image.
I didn’t read any more, quickly clicking off the page and sitting up in bed. More than anything, I hated that the media insinuated that it was my parents who sent me away. I left of my own volition, wanting to be someone different, better, a whole person dedicated to a new cause. Shaking my head, I stood to get dressed for my date, wondering what someone wore to a drive-in. I was determined not to let the bad press ruin my evening.
By the time Ben knocked on my door, I was in my third outfit. Skinny jean capris, a lightweight gray off-the-shoulder T-shirt, and a loose pale pink sweater over my arm in case I got cold.
“Hi,” I said as I opened the door.
“Hi, there.” Ben walked inside, seemingly taking command of an empty room.
Right then, it clicked with me that our roles had reversed. In prep school, I had all the perceived confidence and power, and now Ben did. Was that why he liked me now?
“You look great,” he said, pulling me in for a kiss on the cheek, distracting me from my negative thoughts.
“I hate to say it, but I didn’t want to look like an outsider like I did at the market.”
“Never. You look like you . . . but better. Less makeup, more natural. It’s a perfect look on you, Murph.”
I ducked my head, my cheeks hot.
“Hey.” Ben brought a finger under my chin and tipped my gaze up to his. “Don’t hide from me.”
Stepping away, letting my sweater fall on the couch and pretending to look through a pile of shoes, I mumbled, “It’s so embarrassing, I’ve never been to one. I’ve been to Broadway premieres and award shows at Carnegie Hall, but not a drive-in. Isn’t that ludicrous?”
“Those,” Ben said, changing the subject when my hand rested on an Adidas sneaker.
“Really?” I stood up holding them. “I’ve never worn these on a date. If that’s what this is.”
“Murph, it’s a date. The shoes are perfect. Look at mine,” he said, and I glanced down, relieved to find Ben wearing a pair of running shoes. “And I’m kind of glad you’ve never been to a drive-in.”
“Why is that?” I asked, plopping down onto the worn sofa to slip on and tie my shoes.
“Because back at Pressman, I didn’t think there would be anything I could offer you.” He sat down next to me. “Something different from what you already had, more exciting than what you’d already done in life. And now I am.”
Speechless, I nodded.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to take you to a nice dinner, something farm-to-table with a good bottle of wine to share, but this is fun too, I think. New experiences.”
I turned on the couch to take all of Ben in, with his flat-front khaki shorts, navy T-shirt, tousled hair, and running shoes. No watch, no jewelry, no airs about him, just pure goodness.
“This is what I thought about after I stalked you yesterday.” He used air quotes when he said stalked and his face lit up. “I hid my feelings for you years ago. I was a stupid teen who didn’t know his head from his ass, but I’m a man now. A good one, and I can be with you, share experiences with you, and I deserve to. When I was younger, I didn’t think I deserved to do any of that.”
With my hand on his knee, rubbing circles, I said, “No. If anyone doesn’t deserve something, it’s me. I’m the one who stopped anything from happening with us.”
Ben stood up and pulled me with him, gathering me close. “But it’s happening now, so we can leave that all behind us. Come on, we’ll be late.”
We walked out my door, leaving the heaviness in my apartment with only something exciting and fun ahead of us. I wished my whole life could be like this moment.
“Comfortable?” Ben asked as we drove down the highway, and I use the term generously. The two-lane road was more like a better-maintained back road.
I nodded. “So, do you do this often?”
He glanced at me, giving me a curious look. “What? Drive?”
Pulling my knee up and leaning it on the passenger door, I looked over to study Ben. “The drive-in.”
“Haven’t been since summers during college. Although, I’m pretty sure they still show the same movies.”
“Ha.” I laughed. “It really is beautiful here. I don’t think I ever realized how stifling the city air can be.”
“It’s home for me. I wish I could help more on the farm, but my parents understand. Plus, I like to hang with Branson when I can.”
“How is Brenna?” I asked, remembering that the last time I asked, Ben avoided the topic.
“It’s a sticky subject. No pun intended. Sorry, the syrup humor just comes out sometimes.” He grinned at me. “It’s sticky, get it?”
“I get it. I’m not as dumb as you think.” My mind drifted back to high school and all the tutoring Ben gave me.
“Oh, you’re definitely not dumb.” He reached over and squeezed my thigh. “I was always impressed with your attention to detail.”
“Hmm.” I shifted my gaze back to the road and the green trees lining it.
“Anyway, Brenna lives in Colebury. She has a small house she rents. It’s not enough, but she does her best. Got pregnant my first year at Pressman,�
�� he said, a sadness darkening his tone.
“That’s tough. She knows the dad?”
“She’s not like that. Didn’t sleep around. Yeah, she knows Branson’s dad. He didn’t want a baby or a family or any of that. Signed over rights.”
I frowned. “I don’t get how someone can do that.”
“He did. Anyway, I try to be there for Bren. Got her out of bartending at the Mill. It’s a great place, but she was only working nights, and that was hard with a toddler. When I started at the hospital, I helped her get a job at the information desk. Pay isn’t great, but it has full benefits. Of course, she signs up for every extra shift and works any overtime opportunity that comes her way. So, it’s too much.”
“You seem pretty involved,” I said, quickly adding, “Which is a good thing. It’s the type of family I wished for. Caring and concerned.”
“I try, at least. You know what? This exit has a fast food joint. Want to grab a quick coffee? It’s our last chance.”
Just like that, Ben changed the subject. It was clear Brenna and Branson were mostly off-limits. I couldn’t help but wonder why, but I let it go.
“Sure. I don’t know how good the coffee will be compared to my K-cups,” I said, grinning as I gave him the side-eye. “They’re pretty gourmet.”
“Oh yeah?” Ben said, his tone back to jovial.
“I can’t believe how stopping for coffee—not fast-food coffee, but expensive coffee—was part of my daily routine. Not once, but sometimes two or three times a day, at ten bucks a pop. Crazy, when I think about how much my life has changed since leaving New York.”
Steering the car into a parking lot, Ben asked, “Do you miss it?”
“Sometimes I think I should miss it more. I almost force myself to miss it. It’s crazy, but I don’t. Yeah, I know K-cups aren’t great, but this independent feeling I have is pretty awesome. My parents don’t get it. They want me to go back to how I was. Dependent. Obedient.”
“Come on. Let’s be independent.” Ben hopped out and helped me out of the car, taking my hand as he led us into the restaurant and to the counter. “You know, there’s only one of these places within an hour?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, I know all about crunchy, healthy, earthy, hippie, farm-to-table Vermont.”
“So, you’re a big fast-food eater? Should we ditch the picnic I brought and grab some cheeseburgers?”
Ben pulled me closer and I leaned into him, loving the warmth. My insides melted like the processed cheese on the burgers sold at the Golden Arches.
“Let’s keep the picnic, okay?”
“Okay,” Ben said, giving my hip a quick squeeze.
We ordered coffees—cream and sugar for him, only cream for me—like we did this all the time. And strangely, it felt like we did.
15
Ben
Back in the car, I gulped my coffee. “Not quite as good as an Americano made by you, hence the cream and sugar,” I said while glancing at Murphy.
“Why, thank you,” she said, playfully bowing in her seat.
“Do you like it still? Working at the Bean?”
Tucking a loose hair behind her ear, Murphy turned to look at me. “I like it fine. It’s good to be here in Vermont. I’m liking Hunnie more than I thought I would. In fact, I have this idea for her. Oh—” Murphy stopped short and bounced in her seat. “I remembered these fancy honey sticks from the city. It’s like a straw filled with honey that you snip the top off of and pour into a drink or whatever.”
I nodded, not wanting to interrupt.
“It could be cool for syrup too, you know?” she said, her excitement making her words come out fast. “Anyway, it cuts down on all the sticky mess of a big jar, and it’s super cool. It could look so funky with her infusions. I’m not sure where she would get them manufactured or the cost, which is why I probably won’t tell her about it. It’s just an idea.”
More than anything, I wanted to pull over and look Murphy in the eye, but we had to make it on time to the movie. With Vermont roads, you never knew what type of obstacle you could come upon.
“Murph, you should tell her. Listen to you—you love this idea. I’ll bet Hunnie will too.”
“I don’t really know enough to suggest it. I’m not sure I’m equipped to figure it out.”
As I cleared the emotion from my throat, my heart beat overtime. “You are more than equipped. You could and should figure it out. And yes, it would work with syrup. I’d love to know more about it.”
Running her palms over her thighs, Murphy stared straight ahead. “Well, I’m not sure you’re qualified to say what I’m equipped for, Doctor Ben. Ha, I’m just kidding. All of this makes me nervous. It’s all new to me, sticking up for what I want. I’m not Hunnie.”
Now my heart went into triple time. I knew I should tell Murphy about the apps and the business stuff I handled on the side, but I couldn’t stop being cautious. Inside, I was a poor boy looking for approval from the rich girl.
“Of course you’re not Hunnie. You’re you. Think about it, okay?”
Murphy nodded.
The rest of the drive passed quickly, filled with mindless chatter and music. I learned Murphy loved Ed Sheeran and refused to turn him off when he came on my satellite radio. I pretended to protest, but anything that made Murphy smile was good with me.
“Look at all this green,” she said, staring at the trees as we zipped past. “It’s so . . . I’m not even sure of the word. I don’t think I appreciated the surroundings when we went to Pressman.”
“Definitely seemed like most didn’t, except when it came time to ski.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she said, turning as much as she could to focus on me. With her green eyes blazing, she almost looked like she was going to cry.
I reached over to grip her knee. “It’s no big deal. I could ski, but I didn’t have all that fancy equipment. But enough about that.” We were heading into dangerous conversation territory, and I didn’t want to spill how I felt the need to provide Branson with more.
“Well,” she said, “it’s like I’m seeing this part of the country through new glasses this time around. The unfiltered beauty. I’m sure that was a selling point of Pressman to my parents, but it went over my head.”
“Lucky for you, you’re having a second chance to see it. And lucky for me that I’m getting a second chance with you.”
Murphy’s eyes widened as she stared at me, looking surprised. Even luckier for me, we pulled into the parking lot for the Fairlee Drive-In.
“So, this is it? A motel?” Murphy asked, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“Just you wait.”
I drove us around back of the motel, and when she saw the forest surrounding a huge screen and all the cars lining up in front of it, Murphy breathed out a wow.
“Hope it doesn’t disappoint,” I said as we pulled into the gate to pay.
I spoke jokingly, but I wasn’t laughing inside. Here I was, a board-certified surgeon, an app developer, and a self-made man, unsure if I could actually impress a woman.
“Look at all these trees,” Murphy said as I found a good spot to park. “I mean, I didn’t love working in the Kwikshop because some of those customers could be a pain for not a lot of money, but this is cool.” She opened her door and leaned out, turning around to see the screen.
“You worked at the Kwikshop?” I said to her back.
“Yeah, for a little bit, but I didn’t like it.” Bringing her head back into the Jeep, she asked, “How will we watch?”
Deciding to let the grocery-store gig go, I jumped out and went around the hood. Taking her hand in mine, I led her toward the back of the SUV and popped open the liftgate.
“Oh.” Murphy let out a happy sigh. “Fun. And I don’t even know what the movie is.”
“Me either, but it doesn’t really matter.” I pulled a blanket from inside and laid it on the floor of the rear of the Jeep and opened the picnic basket. “It’s really a cooler, but it works.”
She hopped onto the blanket. “I’m sure it’s perfect.”
My pulse settled to a normal pace with Murphy so happy. Was she always this easily pleased, and I didn’t know?
“Wine?” I asked, pulling a glass from the cooler.
“Are you sure we should?” With her head cocked to the side, she took me in, all of me.
Not going to lie, it felt like something I’d never felt before. Golden. Intimidating.
“Not me, you. I’ll get you home safely later.” I winked and gave her hand a squeeze.
“Okay. Sure, that would be great.”
I poured some white wine for Murphy and cracked open a bottle of water for myself. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
Dusk fell around us, and the screen brightened as they played some older commercials before the sky fully darkened.
“This is so nice,” Murphy said, leaning against the doorjamb.
“You look relaxed. Have another sip of wine.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Jonesy?” Murphy said, laughing.
“No, that was your game plan years ago,” I said, and this got me more chuckles.
“Hardly,” she said, hiding her face behind a curtain of wavy red hair.
“Let’s not talk about back then,” I said when a screen announcing the movie came on.
Murphy gasped. “Pretty in Pink. Did you really not know? How could we not talk about back then? It pretty much consumes my mind, and this movie is basically us. Reversed, but us.”
Swallowing my confusion and pride, I ran a hand through my hair, wishing I’d gotten a haircut. It was always the last priority on my list. “I didn’t know. Let’s just eat and watch and take it for what it is. A movie.”
“For the record, I’m sure you come from a great family. And not the wrong side of the tracks.”
Murphy scooted closer and rested her hand on my thigh. Her fingers skimmed along the hem of my shorts, and I forgot all about high school and being the scholarship kid.
Friendzoned (The Busy Bean) Page 11
