Chapter 6
MAISIE
The start of summer in Ruby Lake is like a coin toss.
You never know what the weather in June will be like.
When the sun is out, the tourists flood the diner.
When it rains, the place goes quiet enough to hear the coffee drip into the pots.
Either way, I'm lucky because I get to work beside my best friend and my mom, which makes the long days fly by.
Today though, I got lucky to have such a beautiful day off with Wren. We try to plan at least one girls day every few weeks. Today is one of those days that typically consists of grabbing a coffee, driving a town over to go to the bookstore and ending the day walking around the lake.
Grabbing my keys, I hop in my car and head to our local coffee shop, Lakeside Grounds. It was remodeled a year or so ago to give it a cozier vibe for the town—hence the name “Lakeside Grounds”.
It may be nearing 80 degrees outside but that doesn’t stop me seeing Wren cuddled up on the couch by the fireplace when I step inside—our preferred seat of choice. If I melt away from the heat, at least she’ll be going out with me.
“Fancy seeing you here.” I sneak up on her, setting my bag down on the couch which has her breaking eye contact with her phone. As soon as she sees me, she lets out a squeal and gives me a hug.
“I have been so exhausted, I need a girls day with my favorite person.” Wren says and she breaks the hug and plops back down on the couch with a huff and looks around. “Also why is it so busy here today? I nearly ran over an old man to get to our couch.”
“How about I go grab us drinks while you continue to stake claim on our couch?” I laugh at her dramatics. “Iced caramel latte with oat milk?”
“You know me so well.”
“Not like we’ve gotten the same drink since this place opened up or anything.”
She crosses her arms. “Actually, what if today I feel like changing it up?”
I eye her skeptically, both of us smirking. “Well, do you?”
“No, you’re right. I just wanted to give you a hard time.” Wren rolls her eyes and I shake my head. I make my way to the line while she pulls out her phone—but keeping an eye out for anyone trying to sit on “our couch”.
There’s a few people in front of me in line so I also pull out my phone and scroll mindlessly. I don’t entirely know what I’m looking at on my screen but I need something to do instead of stare at my feet.
Out of nowhere, I smell a strong scent of vanilla and… man?
“I think you forgot to put my phone number in there.” Butterflies fill my stomach at the masculine voice from behind me.
Henry.
Turning around, I have to look up to meet his eyes. He has a confident smile on his face like he didn’t just call me out for ignoring the napkin with his phone number on it. The same napkin that may or may not be sitting on my nightstand while I debated texting it for what feels like weeks now.
I’ve wanted to reach out to him but at the same time I don’t want to be let down. Instead I didn’t even give him the option for either scenario.
I know I’m letting my insecurities get the best of me but this beautiful and confident man wants to know me. What is so special about me? As far as I’m aware, I’m just the girl who served him at a small town diner.
My eyes slowly trail him up and down. His hands are in the back pockets of his jeans that are worn and have dried white paint splatters decorating them. He’s wearing a backwards baseball hat and I wonder if he knows just how effortlessly attractive he looks right now.
Whatever God is above us really took their time on Henry.
“I, uh—” I don’t even know what to say. Partly because I can’t stop looking at him, and also because his statement caught me off guard.
“Here.” He puts his hand out and I realize I haven’t actually answered him. “Let me show you how.” His eyes find mine through his lashes and his lips quirk. “If you don’t mind.”
I don’t let a single thought process as I hand over my phone.
I’m putty in his hand.
I watch his fingers tap away at my phone so nonchalantly. The confidence he radiates is rousing. Usually this type of cockiness would be a turn off for me but he wears the trait well.
“I put my number in so you don’t have to. Is it okay if I text myself so I have your number?” He looks up from my phone, a shy smirk on his lips. “You can say no too, I won’t be hurt.”
“No, yeah.” I shake my head. “Sorry, yes, that’s okay.” I need to get it together.
I want the same confidence he has when he talks to me.
“Next!” the cashier calls and pulls me out of my Henry bubble that I’m stuck in—a bubble I don’t want to pop.
“C’mon, coffee is on me today—and for your friend over there.” Henry nods toward the fireplace and I look past my shoulder to Wren and her jaw nearly on the floor. “And please don’t say no, I’d really like to be your friend.”
I’d really like to be your friend.
Henry wants to be friends with me.
The words are simple and harmless but something in my chest twists anyway.
“Okay,” I say quietly and walk up to the counter with him.
“What can I get you guys today?” the cashier asks, looking at me then doing a double take at Henry, a blush creeping to her cheeks.
Ruby Lake is small and though we do get a lot of people from out of town, no one has ever looked like him. Especially with his dimples when he smiles, his T-shirt that fits him like it was made for him, and the backwards baseball hat that I have to stop myself from drooling over.
I expect Henry to order first but I feel a soft nudge of an elbow as he leans in to whisper. “Whatever you’d like, Maisie.” His warm breath on my neck feels too intimate for this coffee shop.
“Hi,” I say, “can I have two iced caramel oat milk lattes, please?” With Henry’s proximity, my order comes out quiet, but Henry hears me and reverberates it to the barista.
“And for you?” she asks, making eye contact with Henry.
“Make that three, and a black iced coffee with no sweetener.” He then looks at me. “This one is on Dew Drop Inn. If we’re going to be friends, I need to know what your drink of choice is.” His dimples deepen as he smiles and slides his card through the machine.
“I don’t think this makes us friends.”
“Of course not, but this is step one in my plan to becoming friends.” He winks and it takes everything in me to stop the school girl smile forming on my face. “What’s your friend's name over there?”
We step away from the register, finding a spot to wait. “That’s Wren, we’ve been best friends since… honestly, forever.”
“Did you both grow up here?”
“Yes and no. I’ve lived here all my life but Wren moved here when she was in middle school.”
“I’m always envious of people who had a best friend to grow up with.” He places his hands in his pockets and I watch as his shoulders stiffen, my only sign that he might be nervous too. “I have Miles but he’s family so basically a built-in best friend I saw whenever we’d come and visit.”
“Your best friend can be family, you know, there’s no rulebook on whether family and friends can't coexist.”
He gives me a shy smile, like maybe the confident guy exterior isn’t all swagger after all.
“I like the way you think, Maisie.” My name rolls off his tongue as if it’s his favorite word in the English language, a word he uses every single day.
“There’s a lot going on up there.”
At the same time, the other barista behind the counter calls out Henry’s name and sets all four drinks down. I wish it took longer to pull espresso so that I could have more time with Henry.
“I’d love to hear about every thought up there.” The gentleman he is, he grabs both drinks for Wren and I and hands them to me. “Have a good day, Maisie.”
“Bye,” I say reluctantly with a small nod, turning to walk toward Wren but quickly spinning back around as Henry is almost to the entry door. “Oh, Henry.” He’s still facing me. “Thank you for the coffee.”
"It's my pleasure," he says, taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes boring into mine.
It feels like hours pass as we both stand there staring at each other.
He grins one more time before turning on his heel and walking out the door.
I feel rooted in place before I snap out of it and make my way back to Wren, who is nearly bursting out of her seat with excitement.
This is my second encounter with Henry and it’s hard to believe he’s from the same family tree as Miles.
Where Miles is standoffish, Henry smiles at every person that passes him.
It’s like he’s never met a stranger. Which might be true, because the way he talks to me is like he wants to know everything about me.
“Who was that?” Wren grabs her drink and pulls me out of my Henry induced thoughts. I can tell she’s eager for my answer by the way she’s sitting on her knees on the couch about to pounce on me, her body absolutely vibrating.
“His name is Henry.” I pull the straw out of its paper wrapping, stabbing it through the lid and take a sip of my drink so that I don’t have to say more.
“His name is Henry,” she mocks, putting up air quotes. “When I asked ‘who was that?’ I was hoping to learn where he came from, his relationship status, is he rich? What’s his social security number?”
“Even if I knew the answer to all of that, I wouldn’t tell you!” Another sip.
“If you knew his dick size, I would expect—” I quickly put my hand over her mouth.
“Wren!” I feel her muffled laughter on my hand as I take it away. “You can’t just blurt stuff like that out loud!” I look around the coffee shop hoping that he actually left when I saw him head out the door.
To my luck, he’s gone.
To my unluck, I now have to face the teasing from Wren for the rest of our girls day.