4. Landon
Saturday sunlight stretched across the cabin floor, and for once, nothing had the audacity to wake me before I was ready.
I stayed under the thin white sheet for a few minutes, listening to water move along the shoreline beyond the open window.
No whistle. No phone vibrating itself across a nightstand.
No player calling because he’d suddenly remembered a question he could’ve asked yesterday.
My body felt heavy from actual sleep instead of the accumulated disrespect of running on four or five hours, and I had enough sense to recognize the difference.
I sat on the edge of the bed, planted both feet on the floor, and bowed my head.
“Thank You for rest, Lord. Thank You for covering my family while I’m away and reminding me that the world can keep turning without my hand on every wheel.
Watch over Mama. Strengthen Daddy. Keep Lennox focused, protected, and humble enough to hear correction before consequences have to raise their voice.
And if You see fit to put that woman back in my path, I promise I’ll manage the opportunity better this time. Amen.”
I lifted my head, already smiling.
A woman I’d known less than twenty-four hours had officially made the prayer list.
That felt worth documenting.
My white T-shirt hung over the chair by the window with yesterday’s peach-tea stain spread across the front like somebody had preserved the evidence for trial.
Beside my keys sat the wrapper from the replacement Hershey bar I’d bought after leaving the festival.
I’d eaten it. It had been perfectly fine.
Still hadn’t hit the same.
Apparently, once pink sandals, a silver pendant, and a woman with a smart mouth got attached to chocolate, the baseline changed.
Nolani.
I liked her name. Simple as that. I’d said it a few times after getting back to the cabin, partly because I liked how it sounded and partly because the woman attached to it had stayed on my mind longer than common sense could explain after one accidental collision.
Hershey still fit better than she wanted to admit.
Yesterday had given me enough information to know I was interested and nowhere near enough to know what that interest would become.
She was beautiful. That had been obvious before she emptied peach tea across my chest. But fine women existed everywhere.
Beauty alone had never made me spend the rest of my evening replaying a conversation.
Nolani had.
The way she argued when she knew I was teasing her. The way her fingers found that pendant whenever I caught her off guard. The way she laughed once she stopped trying to hold it back. The fact that she’d watched me help that little boy before she knew I was paying any attention to her at all.
Yeah.
I wanted another conversation.
And I’d let her leave without asking for a number.
That part still irritated me.
She’d told me she needed to get Nana’s tea back before a card game, and once she said she had somewhere to be, that was enough.
I wasn’t the man who heard a woman state a boundary and started negotiating like her schedule was a contract dispute.
But respecting her time and asking whether I could call her later were not mutually exclusive concepts.
I had overcorrected.
Coach Brooks had reviewed the film.
Adjustment noted.
My phone rang before I could get too deep into evaluating my own poor clock management.
Mama.
I answered and leaned back against the headboard. “Good morning.”
“It must be. You sound rested.”
“I slept.”
“That ain’t what I said.”
I smiled. “What did you say?”
“You sound rested. Lighter too.”
“Might be the water.”
“Might be a woman.”
A laugh came before I could stop it. “Why everything gotta be a woman?”
“Because water never put amusement in your voice.”
I looked toward the stained shirt.
She had evidence.
“I met somebody at the festival.”
“I knew it. What’s her name?”
“Nolani.”
Mama repeated it once. “Pretty.”
“She is.”
“And?”
“And I let her leave without getting her number.” The silence on the other end lasted long enough to qualify as judgment. “I was respecting her time.”
“You can respect a woman and still ask a question.”
“I am painfully aware of that now.”
“Apparently not soon enough.”
I laughed and rubbed a hand over my beard. “You called to check on me or coach me?”
“Both. Since you insist on treating rest like an opponent, somebody gotta make sure you don’t turn a weekend off into independent study. Go eat. Enjoy the town. And if the Lord is gracious enough to put that young lady back in front of you, don’t stand there looking educated and confused.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And call your daddy later.”
“I will.”
Mama hung up without another word. She had delivered the scouting report, made the adjustment, and apparently trusted her personnel.
I showered, got dressed, and spent longer than necessary deciding between two shirts before getting irritated with myself.
I had never needed a committee meeting to put on clothes before.
Nolani had been in my life one day and already had me looking at a navy polo like it needed to justify its selection.
I put it on.
Looked good too.
No need for false humility.
By the time I grabbed my keys, hunger had become a legitimate concern. The fact that I chose the waterfront instead of the diner ten minutes closer to the cabin was completely unrelated to the woman I knew had been wandering around downtown the day before.
That was my official position.
The evidence was admittedly weak.
Willow Point Bistro sat near the marina beneath white awnings that shifted with the Gulf breeze. Cedar siding, broad windows, boats rocking beyond the boardwalk, and enough blackened fish and garlic butter in the air to make the place worth trying whether I had ulterior motives or not.
I reached for the door, then I saw her.
Nolani stood near the hostess station with a book tucked against her chest, wearing a pale-yellow sundress that immediately created a problem I had not included in my morning planning.
I stopped.
Yeah.
That dress was a problem.
Her curls fell over one shoulder, the silver pendant I remembered rested against her chest, and she hadn’t seen me yet. That gave me a second to appreciate the situation without pretending I hadn’t been hoping Willow Run was small enough to put us in the same place again.
Mama had told me not to stand around looking educated and confused if God gave me another opportunity.
Message received.
“Hershey.”
Nolani turned. Surprise came first, then recognition, followed by a smile she tried to manage and didn’t quite succeed at.
Then she looked me over.
Slow too.
I had selected the correct polo.
“You’re still calling me that?”
“I reviewed yesterday’s film. Nickname wasn’t the mistake.”
One eyebrow went up. “What was?”
“Letting you leave without asking for your number.”
Her fingers brushed the pendant.
“Well, that’s direct.”
“I already tried indirect. Results were poor.”
“You always compare women to football?”
“Only when I fumble.”
Her laugh came easier than it had yesterday, and I liked the fact that I already knew enough to recognize the difference.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Getting lunch.”
“So am I.”
“I figured.”
“Because I’m standing inside a restaurant?”
“Because you got a menu tucked behind your book.”
She looked down and found the folded menu peeking beneath the paperback. “You pay too much attention.”
“I thought we settled that yesterday.”
“We settled that you’re nosy.”
“Observant.”
“Those words are cousins.”
“Distant ones.”
The hostess stepped away to answer the phone, leaving us near the entrance with sunlight flashing off the marina behind her.
I nodded toward the dining room. “Have lunch with me, Nolani.”
She studied me. “Is that how you ask?”
“I can add decoration if you need it, but the question ain’t changing.”
“And what exactly are you asking?”
“I’m asking to sit down, eat something good, and spend more time with you than bad signage gave me yesterday.”
That smile got a little bigger.
“I was planning to eat alone.”
“I can respect that.”
“But Nana put me out before I appointed myself assistant hostess for her card game.”
“Sounds like Nana got discernment.”
“She said I was getting on her nerves.”
“Same gift. Different delivery.”
Nolani laughed. “Just lunch.”
“Just lunch.”
“And you’re not ordering for me.”
“I don’t make decisions for grown women.”
“You recommended the snapper yesterday.”
“Recommendation is information. You retain full executive authority.”
Her head tilted. “You really do have an answer for everything.”
“Only when I’m properly stimulated.” Her eyes narrowed. I smiled. “Intellectually, Hershey. We at the hostess stand.”
That laugh caught her before she could stop it.
Yeah.
I was going to enjoy her.
The hostess returned. “Table for two?”
Nolani looked at me once before answering.
“Table for two.”
We followed her toward the windows overlooking the marina. Nolani sat across from me and put her book beside the silverware, giving me enough time to register that I had somehow gone from hoping I might see her again to sitting across from her less than an hour after asking God for assistance.
Effective turnaround time.
The server appeared with menus. “Can I start y’all with something to drink?”
“Peach tea.”
I looked at Nolani.
She caught me immediately. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing.”
“I’m impressed you willing to get back in the game this soon.”
“The tea didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Neither did my shirt.”
“You survived.”
“Barely. Had to bury that Hershey bar with no family present.”
The server pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.
Nolani had no such restraint. “Bring him water. He’s still grieving.”
“Sweet tea. Grief requires sugar.”
The server nodded. “I got you.”
When she walked away, Nolani opened her menu. “You are committed to that chocolate bar.”
“With almonds.”
“I remember.”
“Good. Means my loss had witnesses.”
She shook her head and kept reading.
I opened my own menu even though I already knew what I wanted. “Blackened snapper serious here.”