Chapter Eleven
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Ben
"Hey, Ben, good to see you again", Noah calls out from behind the counter. He usually works the morning shift, so I'm surprised to see him here.
"You too. What's got you working tonight?" I inquire.
"Atlas asked to have a few days off for a family event, and I never mind mixing things up.
" Atlas is Noah's new hire, who picked up the job pretty easily.
Noah has said only positive things about him.
"Lately, I've been working my tail off," he says while turning to the side and shaking his ass, causing me to roll my eyes and giggle.
"Well, we can't have that now, can we?"
"Hey, you," Marcus interrupts, sidling up next to Noah from the back room. "You two aren't causing any trouble out here, are you?" Marcus' fake-stern voice has Noah physically shivering.
"Will you spank me if I am?" Noah teases with a hint of heat in his voice.
"You know it, brat," Marcus says as he kisses the side of his cheek and slides over to place the cups from his hands onto the stack.
"He's been helping me out after he gets off work," Noah gestures to Marcus with his head.
"Aww, well that's sweet of him."
We continue our small talk while he makes my hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Once I have my beverage, I find a booth so Jason and I can have some privacy. My knee bounces with excitement and nervousness just as the bell on the front door signals someone entering.
Goosebumps dance across my arms.
Jason gives me a little wave before going to the counter and ordering his extra sugary coffee.
He says the kids sometimes wear him out, and the coffee helps him rejuvenate from all the craziness in his classroom.
I think it's just because he has a sweet tooth.
My mom used to tell me that I had one all the time.
"Hey, gorgeous," Jason leans and kisses my cheek before sliding in across from me, dropping his backpack in the booth next to him. "You smell very florally," he teases.
"The scent must be lingering from earlier when my arms were full of roses." I smile.
"I'm jealous that they were in your arms instead of me," he takes a sip of his coffee that is definitely not the color of coffee.
"How much sugary stuff is in that?" I tease, pointing to the creamy tan color in his cup.
"Probably as much as in all those extra marshmallows and chocolate sauce."
Noah did get carried away with the extra marshmallows I requested. He even drizzled chocolate sauce over the top of them. I look up at Jason and shrug.
He shakes his head with a wide grin.
"How were the kids today?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"They are so excited for Valentine's Day tomorrow. I think any holiday that involves getting lots of candy is a win in their book. They're still too young to realize what it's about. They just know they get cards and candy from friends."
"Oh, to be that young again."
We sit and share about our days with each other.
I tell him that we wrapped up the last of the custom orders just as the shop was closing, which was good, so I didn't have to stay late.
He tells me about the messy craft projects they have planned for tomorrow.
Part of my heart flutters with excitement, and I wish I were six again so I could participate.
I feel my face drop, and my mood shift. I miss Club Pierre.
I miss playdates and being in my little headspace.
But I shake the thought away because this weekend I get to have a playdate with Caleb and a few others in the community.
It won't be the same without my own Daddy to play with, but I will still have fun playing for a while.
I think back to when I first met Jason and how he just swooped in. Would he be interested in going to the party with me? Is it too soon to introduce that side to our relationship?
It's only been several text messages and two dates; this is not a relationship.
"What are you thinking so hard about over there?" Jason asks with amusement on his face.
I take a deep breath and feel that honesty is the best approach when entering a new relationship. It's better to find out sooner rather than later if things will work out. I mean, if we're not on the same page, we're essentially setting ourselves up for heartbreak.
"I was just wondering if you had plans this weekend?" That's a safe question. Right?
"I have an event on Saturday that I was invited to. A sort of post-Valentines thing with some friends. Why? Did you want to do something? Maybe you can go with me?"
I shake my head. "No. I was invited to one as well. It's, um, at Caleb's. It was sort of a playdate kind of thing." I feel my cheeks heat, and I know they are splashed with a tinge of pink.
Jason's smile grows wide.
"What are you smiling about?" I inquire.
He leans over the table. With a whisper, he says, "Looks like I'll see you there." He winks and sits back.
I melt into the back of the booth at his words. He'll be at the party. He's going to the playdate.
Clearing my throat. "Looks like it," I tell him, and my voice comes out a bit rougher than I intend.
A few minutes of silence fall between us.
"So, tell me more about you. How is it that you became so interested in flowers and design?" Jason asks, sliding his cup to the edge of the table since he finished.
As I open up to Jason. He listens with a steady and warm gaze.
It's such a contrast to the cold judgment I'm used to on dates.
Like, guys are just wanting this perfect person to step out of a movie or book.
Sorry, fellas, life is messy sometimes. But Jason doesn't flinch when I mention the pain of my mother's absence.
I talk about the flower garden that was once behind our house.
I know I mentioned some of this to him before, but it's nice that he wants to hear it again.
I dig a little deeper into her absence and what that meant for me and my father. How it created a wedge between us.
Jason reaches across the table and brushes his fingers against mine.
A jolt travels up my arm, right to my chest cavity.
"Your," he clears his throat, "your mom sounds incredible.
I wish I could have met her." He tells me softly.
"And Ben, you sound incredible too for everything you've navigated since your father abandoned you. "
I don't see pity in his eyes. Just understanding and warmth.
"Thank you," I tell him softly.
My hot chocolate, now on the side of cool chocolate, sits forgotten between us. We talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing like the wildflowers from my childhood memories. The entire time, Jason's hand never leaves mine.
As the cafe empties and the late-night chill seeps in, a new warmth settles within me, one that has nothing to do with the sugary drink.
It is the tentative bloom of connection, a fragile flower pushing through the cracks of a past I'd carried like a heavy stone.
Looking at Jason, really looking at him, I feel a flicker of something I had a hard time acknowledging before––hope.