Chapter 10
MAISIE
“So we’re doing this.” I look in the mirror at the girl who had too many glasses of wine last night.
I’ve reread Henry’s text about a dozen times now, each time thinking it’ll disappear and I’ll wake up from this dream.
I can’t tell if I do or don’t want Henry to show up. Do I want to be his friend or do I want to climb him like a tree? The honest answer is the latter, but he’s only here for the summer and that’s not something I want to get myself into.
When I left Wren’s this morning, I stopped by Lakeside Grounds. The only way to get through today is either caffeine or alcohol, and my throbbing headache is a reminder to never drink again.
I look back at myself in the mirror and question how I got myself into this mess. I’m not sure I can even call it a mess because I can’t deny that I want to hang out with Henry.
Sober Maisie would’ve never texted Henry. Technically drunk Maisie didn’t, drunk Wren did, but now I have to reap the consequences of my own actions, starting with meeting Henry later today. More so dreading the possibility of liking him more than I already do.
I have about an hour before I need to leave if I want to walk to town. The decision not to drive is simply because I need a breath of fresh air and time to think after last night's festivities with Wren.
I grab a towel and quickly take a shower hoping it’ll wake me up a bit and make me feel less groggy.
Lathering my body in body wash, I lose myself in my thoughts of what’s to come today. It could either go great or terribly wrong but I have a hard time thinking that anything with Henry involved could go terribly wrong.
What if he decides he doesn’t want to do it anymore?
What if I get stood up?
Henry wouldn’t do that… right?
When he’s around I feel an ache in my chest from a loss of oxygen… the simplicity that a single human can take my breath away.
I don’t know how someone who looks like him is single. He’s charming, both physically and personality wise.
I try not to let my insecure thoughts get the better of me but I can’t help but wonder what he sees in me. Not in a self deprecating way, but he’s given me his number twice now and insists on helping with my Fuck It List.
We haven’t spent more than five minutes in conversation yet he wasted no time agreeing to meet me with less than a two hour warning.
What about me has him wanting me?
I stand in the shower for a little too long and realize to make it on time, I should get out now. Luckily I didn't wash my hair so I really just need to get dressed and put on some makeup.
Wrapping a towel around my body, I walk over to my closet and grab a pair of denim shorts and a yellow tank top. I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard but also don’t want to look like I’m not trying at all. Plus, yellow brings out my freckles—one of my favorite things about myself.
My hair thankfully decided to cooperate with me today. Sometimes my waves tend to have a mind of their own.
By the time I’m ready, it’s a quarter to noon, just enough time to walk to the lake.
I take a second to catch my breath, open the door, and remind myself that he said he’d be there and that I have nothing to worry about.
You got this, Maisie. He wants to come, he wants to help. He wants to be there.
Even after a lifetime of walking the same route to the lake, it never gets old.
Summer in Ruby Lake is something out of a story book. The splashing of water as kids play, the smell of waffle cones from the ice cream shop a few blocks down, and families setting up picnics. It’s a nostalgic feeling I’ll never be tired of.
Not knowing how long Henry will be here, I brought my picnic blanket and the book I bought the other day so I could relax in the sun at the very least.
Across the street from the lake, there’s a grassy park area with picnic tables that I like to hang out at without having to worry about the sand from the beach or screaming children in my ear. I’m not a child hater but I would prefer to not lose my sense of hearing.
Setting my bag down, I find the perfect spot, and lay out my blanket on the grass.
I reach down to grab my book and that’s when I feel a shadow over me. Taking a deep breath, hoping it’s who I think it is, I look up and am met with the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
“Hi, Maisie.” Henry stands there in a white shirt and jeans looking like he was sent down by angels.
My eyes flicker to his dimpled smile and I feel my heartbeat race.
He came.
“You came.”
“I came,” he mocks playfully.
“I didn’t think you would show up.”
“And not get to hang out with my favorite person in Ruby Lake? You’ve been deeply mistaken, Winslow.
” I like the way he says my last name, even though I don’t remember telling him.
Someone has done his research. His hand meets my shoulder blade and his thumb brushes up and down in a hello.
“Is it okay if I sit with you on the blanket?”
I feel suffocated by his proximity in the best way. My eyes rake over every inch of his body in observation, wondering who sculpted him out of clay, creating a real life masterpiece.
“Yes, sure, of course.” I stumble over my words but somehow make out an answer. “Thank you for not ghosting me. I’m already embarrassed Wren texted you and would’ve been even more embarrassed if you…” I stop myself. “I’m rambling, I'm sorry.”
I sit down on one end and lean on my arm for support.
Henry is across from me and opts to lay on his side.
My eyes immediately lock onto his toned biceps supporting his weight.
He’s lean but you can see the toned muscles of his arms and legs through his clothing.
Especially when he reaches a hand over his head—stretching and fixing his hair—and a sliver of the carved out V of his stomach makes an appearance.
Stop staring, I tell myself.
“I enjoy listening to you talk.” His eyes glimmer as they flicker between mine. I haven’t had anyone ever look at me this way before and it’s freaking me out. It’s not bad but it’s… an unknown feeling.
“So,” I say, unsure of how to respond, “do you want to see the bucket list?”
“I think you mean the Fuck It list?” He chuckles.
“Yeah,” I play with my hands, “I made it when I was eighteen, puns were clearly my thing at the time.” I shift and turn to my bag sitting next to me and pull out my journal.
Henry sits up and moves closer to me. His scent is intoxicating, just like the first time I met him.
Looking over my shoulder, he says, “Let’s see this list eighteen year old Maisie wanted to complete.” And out of nowhere, I feel this urge to say, ‘never mind’ and run.
There’s no way I can do this.
“I can hear you overthinking, Maisie.” His shoulder nudges mine and I see him softly looking back at me. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, I promise.” I force a smile and start opening my journal when I feel a hand on top of mine closing it. A hand much larger and rougher than my own.
His thumb brushes across my skin for the second time today and the feeling soothes me instantly.
“I promise I have good intentions being here but do you want to interrogate me so you’re less nervous?”
“How did you know I was nervous?”
He chuckles. “Just an assumption.”
His assumption was correct.
“Oh,” I say while his thumb continues to graze across mine, “I’m sorry, this is all so random and out of nowhere and you’re… you, and I’m nervous.”
“How about we get to know each other better?” He takes my journal with the list out of my hand and puts it behind himself so it’s out of sight.
He sits straighter and then turns toward me so we’re face to face.
He clears his throat and introduces himself.
“Hi, I’m Henry Bellwood, the new guy in town.
I’m twenty-four years old, just graduated college, though a little later than most, and I’m spending the summer here with my cousin Miles to renovate the Dew Drop Inn. ”
He takes his hand and puts it in mine. Intertwined, he moves them up and down together in a handshake which causes a snort to come out of me.
“I enjoy American cuisine, long walks on the beach, and sunsets. I’m as cliché as they come,” he leans in closer, “but I promise I’m a good time.”
The feeling of his breath on my ear is a feeling I want more of.
“American cuisine? Like hot dogs and hamburgers?”
“Hot dogs, hamburgers, you name it and I’ll eat it.
Maybe throw in an eagle flying above me as I chug a beer for added effect.
But not in an ‘I love my country’ way.” He says the last part in a southern accent that causes me to start laughing again.
His own laugh is deep and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
“Okay, Maisie Winslow. It’s your turn now. ”
Our hands are still connected from the handshake but instead of letting go, he continues to rub his thumb against mine. A soothing feeling that doesn’t go unnoticed but I try to remain unaffected on the outside.
“Um, hi. I’m Maisie Winslow. I’ve lived in Ruby Lake my whole life and have worked at Ruby’s Diner since I was barely able to walk.” It feels like his eyes don’t leave mine the entire time I talk. “As much as I love American cuisine, I think Italian would have to be my go to, or Chinese.”
“Great choices, great choices.” He continues caressing my hand with the pad of his thumb. “Are you a movie or TV show binger?”
“A little bit of both.” I ponder the question. “I like rewatching movies more than I like watching new ones if that makes sense.”
“I do the same thing, more so because it’s hard to sit down and pay attention to a new movie.”
“Exactly!” I yell a little louder than expected.
“Tell me how you really feel, Winslow,” he says with a smirk.
“Wren is always trying to get me to watch new movies with her but I just can’t sit and watch a screen for hours at a time.
” His eyes are still locked on mine, never once looking away.
“I’ve tried explaining it to her but she just doesn’t understand.
We compromise and watch a TV show we like instead. ”
“What kind of TV shows do you two watch together?” I notice he keeps asking me questions and how easy it feels to talk to him.
“Currently we’re watching the new season of The Challenge and an older season when there’s no new episodes to watch.”
“I used to watch that in high school, I didn’t know it was still running.”
“I think they just passed season forty. If you want to, I'm sure you could come over and watch with us sometime.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I realize what I’m asking.
“Obviously, only if you want to. That’s not part of the list or anything.
You don’t have to hang out with us, or me, or—” My rambling dies off.
“That sounds fun, Maisie. You have my number so just let me know and I’d love to come over.”
“Really?”
“If you haven’t noticed yet, I’d really like to spend more time with you, especially since I only have a few months here” He gently squeezes my hand. “I think I’d eat up breadcrumbs of your time if that’s all you had to offer.”
His confession leaves me speechless. I want to be his friend but I also don’t want to put time into someone who is just going to leave. My father left me, my grandma left me, everyone leaves. I can’t take that again.
I know my father leaving isn’t the same as the way my grandma left us but it shows that in the end, everyone will leave you, and one day you’ll leave them too.
My mom has had my father, her father, and now her mother leave…
I can’t do that to her. What if this becomes more than friends and I have to choose between my mom and Henry?
I shut my brain down knowing that I’m overthinking by a long shot.
“I see your mind moving again, Maisie.”
“I’m just…” He’s leaving in a few months and most likely won’t come back, I need to be honest now before he gets any ideas. “I can’t be more than friends with you.”
“I would love to be your friend.” His smile beams across his face. “I’m not looking for anything either, that’s not why I’m here. That’s not to say I wouldn’t want to be more than friends but I’ll happily take being friends over nothing at all.”
“I mean, we can’t—I can’t—I think you’re attractive, and I think you think the same about me, and I could be wrong in that I think you’re flirting with me.
I can’t be more than friends with someone who is going to leave.
” I let out a breath that I didn’t notice I was holding when my eyes meet his. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m happy to know you think I’m flirting with you, that means I’m doing it right.” He winks but somehow it doesn’t feel like the flirty Henry I’ve met. “If being friends is what we will be, then I will be the best friend you’ve ever had.”
“I don’t think Wren would agree,” I playfully argue.
“I will be the best guy friend you’ve ever had.” He raises his eyebrows. “Now, let’s see what this Fuck It List is all about.”