11. MJ
MJ
I appreciate the slow Sunday morning, especially after the late night last night. Spending most of the morning in my pajamas at my computer, I’ve learned quite a bit about social media marketing and a program offered at Caracrest.
Between the conversation with Shannon a few days ago and then the similar conversation with Mac last night, I started researching different career paths for social media and content creation.
I know if I’m going to sell my parents on anything other than law school, I’ll likely have to show them—really my dad—all the facts and details.
It turns out Caracrest offers a Digital Marketing degree and as I compared the course list to the classes I already took, I would only need to take a handful more. I save the document I created on my computer and glance at my phone hopefully.
Mac texted me super early this morning, and it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.
Not going to lie, it gave me butterflies and was super sweet.
It was even sweeter when he showed concern for texting so early.
After telling him what I had going on today, I expected a response from him, but he hasn’t texted back in a few hours now.
My shoulders slump when I s ee that he still hasn’t responded.
I know I shouldn’t be hanging on his every word and constantly checking my phone to see if he’s reached out, but I swear talking to him is addicting.
I can’t help but want constant communication now that he’s opened that metaphorical flood gate.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to not let it affect me.
He’s just a guy who hasn’t responded to a text, like that hasn’t happened to me before.
I close my laptop and clean up my desk to make it look and feel a little less chaotic.
While researching, I ended up writing on a handful of sticky notes and a notebook, so stuff was all over the place.
Walking over to my closet, now stuffed full of all the clothes I brought home, I look for an outfit for the day.
I pull out a pair of jeans and a simple black tank top.
The tank top is form-fitting and shows off some of my midriff, which I’m a little self-conscious of, but to love my body as it is, I go with it.
I brush out my hair and leave it down, which helps me feel a little more comfortable. Balance.
I slip on a pair of black flip-flops and toss my tote bag over my shoulder. My wallet, Kindle, and book are already in my tote, so I should be all set.
Heading out of my room, I hear my parents getting ready down the hall. As I walk down the stairs, I pull out my phone and text my mom to let her know I’m heading out, but I’ll be back for our usual Sunday dinner.
“Bye, Peanut, have a good day!” Mom yells down the stairs.
I grab my keys off th e holder in the kitchen and hop into my Jeep. It’s a little warm already, so I roll the windows down since the AC is slow to get going.
It only takes a few minutes to get to where Sophie is behind the counter, greeting me with a soft smile. “MJ! How are you?”
I smile back and maneuver my way up to the counter. “Hey, Sophie! I’m good. How are you doing?” Sweat beads her brow, and she has bags under her eyes.
“Oh, I’m okay. It’s getting hotter and hotter, and I never realized how much being pregnant just saps the life out of you.” She dabs the sweat off her forehead with a rag.
“That’s because you’re carrying a life-sucking alien! Hey, MJ!” Beck yells from the kitchen in the back. I laugh and yell hi back and then look over at the display case to pick out a pastry for a late breakfast.
Sophie asks if I’ll have my usual drink, and I nod while still looking over the pastries. I’m surrounded by soft jazz music, likely Sophie’s choice, and the sound of the coffee bean grinder. The smell of strong coffee hits my nose, and I hold back a moan. I love this place so much.
“Well, good morning, gorgeous.” A familiar voice startles me. I was so focused on the blackberry cream cheese tart in the display case, I didn’t even hear the bell chime or someone approach.
I turn slightly and look over my shoulder to see Mac standing behind me and I smile. “Good morning.”
He smirks and then nods toward the display case. “I was talking to the pastry display, but good morning to you too.” He leans closer to me an d says quietly, “again.” My cheeks heat and I turn back to the display case, trying to hold back my laugh. That was definitely a joke, right?
Beck comes out from the back and hands me a bag across the counter. “What’s this?” I ask as I open it. I’m accosted by the smell of freshly baked pastry and fruit.
“Had a feeling you’d want something yummy for your drive.” She looks past me and winks at Mac before turning around to fix another drink.
I turn to look at Mac. Our eyes meet, but he shrugs in response. Confused, I turn back to the counter and swipe my card to pay.
“Are you heading out to Cedar Bend from here?” Mac asks from behind me.
“Yeah.” I turn to face him and lean against the counter. “Just grabbing a quickie and then heading out.” He raises his eyebrow, and I hear Beck bark out a laugh. Did I just say grabbing a quickie ?
“Well, I have a part to pick up in Cedar Bend. Want to save some gas and head out there together?” Mac asks.
“We can . . .” I hesitate. “I was planning on spending a few hours in the bookstore. You know me and books.” He probably has a ton of work to do at the shop, and I wouldn’t want him waiting for me if he had to get back. I also don’t want to be rushed.
“It’s no problem. I only have the one job to do but I need the part to finish it. So really, you’d be doing me a favor.” He tilts his head to the side.
“MJ, just say yes. It makes sense, and think about the gas savings! You’d be saving the planet by carpooling,” Beck chimes in from behind the counter and Mac chuckles beside me. Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but give in.
“Fine. Let’s carpool.” I giggle because it sounds very business-like and not at all like two friends hanging out.
“Okay, I’ll drive,” Mac says, and I cringe. I love his car—I always have—but since driving in the big city, I’ve seen too many car accidents involving small cars. For some reason, I feel safer in my Jeep; higher up, able to see more. It just feels better.
“Drive my car?” I propose, and he smiles.
“Whatever you want, MJ.” We both grab our drinks, and I snag the bag of pastries and turn toward the door to head out.
“Have fun, you two!” Sophie yells from the counter.
Mac holds the door open for me and my cheeks heat as the bell chimes overhead.
Ducking my head down, I fish my keys out of my pocket and bark out a “hey” to get his attention before tossing them into the air.
He catches them effortlessly, unlocks the Jeep, and pulls the passenger door open for me.
My face and neck are fully flushed now, and I mumble out a soft “t hank you” before he closes my door.
Once he’s settled into the driver’s seat, he turns the key and the local radio station blares from the speakers. Immediately, I reach to turn the volume down. “Sorry, I was definitely jamming out on the way here.”
Mac chuckles, shaking his head, and then pulls away from the sidewalk. I can make out Sophie and Beck, still in the shop, both wearing huge grins. My phone pings, and I look down to see it’s a text from Beck filled with heart-eye emojis, and I roll my eyes.
We roll through town, and I take in all the shops along the way; it’s weird being in the passenger seat of my vehicle, but it’s also nice not driving and being able to take in the sights.
We pass the bookstore where Mac’s mom works, right next to Spoon.
The maroon awning appears faded and torn, possibly because of all the summer storms. In fact, as we continue to drive through town, I notice most of the storefronts are looking less than stellar.
The other night I noticed Hal’s neon sign didn’t fully light up, and when I had lunch with Shannon at the diner, the inside was looking old and dingy.
My shoulders sag with sadness for my small town; the businesses seem to be struggling but I’m not sure why.
Visitors usually flock to Oakridge to take in the fall foliage.
There’s a train station nearby that offers tours through the Oakridge Canyon and that usually means more people in town.
I know it’s the start of summer, but things shouldn’t look as run down as they do.
We hit the freeway just outside of town and Mac turns on the AC, fiddling with the settings. “You should bring this by the shop soon. The AC is running a little warm. Probably due for a tune-up.”
Shaking off the thoug hts of town, I nod.
“Yeah, sure. Let me know when you have some time.” I look over at him and he has both hands on the steering wheel, the muscles in his tanned forearms on full display.
His navy-blue T-shirt and jeans have grease stains along the hem and all up the thighs, but they look nice.
I guarantee most of his clothes have some kind of grease stain on them at this point.
He looks nice though . . . he looks good .
. . more than good. I bite my lip and turn to look out the passenger window, watching the landscape change from the tall oak trees to open fields.
A few minutes pass. Still looking out the window, I gasp in awe at the smattering of color in the fields.
“What?” Mac must’ve heard me.
“The wildflowers.” I turn to him with a grin on my face.
It’s late in the season for wildflowers to be this dense anywhere; they’re usually a mid-spring spectacle and we are right at the start of summer.
I’m surprised to see the open field along the highway full of yellow, red, and purple.
It’s beautiful and I can’t help but pick up my phone and start taking pictures and videos as we drive by.
I’m wiggling in my seat to get the best angle when I feel the Jeep slowing.
“Where are we going?” I ask Mac.