Chapter Seven #3
Maggie had expected the Greenway to be busy, what with the first touch of autumn in the air and the perfect bluebird sky, but damn, that was a lot of people.
She stood at the edge of the expanse and scanned in all directions, taking in trucks with bubble tea and dumplings, tacos and falafel, dessert trucks and artisanal French fries, and her stomach rumbled its appreciation.
Lines snaked along the sidewalks and across stretches of grass, and in every shady spot, couples and families sat, eating from brown paperboard boxes and laden paper plates.
It wasn’t quite one o’clock, so she sat on one of the benches near the fountain where she’d agreed to meet Cora.
A gust of wind blew a light mist of water her way, the droplets catching sunlight before dotting her skin.
She dried off her sunglasses on the hem of her blouse, squinting in the early afternoon brightness.
“Hey!” Cora’s voice made Maggie turn. She jogged up, beaming, her hair down in loose waves.
She was exactly Maggie’s height, close enough in age and appearance that people always used to ask them if they were twins, right down to the same dusting of freckles over their noses.
They still got that treatment from time to time when they went somewhere together; damn those strong St. Claire family genes.
Cora wore immaculate jeans and a slim-fit purple button-down with tiny ice cream cones printed all over it.
Maggie was about to comment on the dressed-up look when she got distracted by a perky brunette jogging up a few steps behind Cora.
Maggie slid her sunglasses back on and got to her feet.
“This is Vanessa,” Cora said, blushing, gesturing to the woman now at her side. “Vanessa, this is my sister Maggie.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” They shook hands, and Maggie couldn’t stop herself from grinning. Apparently, this was why Cora had been shifty about the timing.
“Are you sure it’s OK I crash family food truck day?” Vanessa looked between them. “It was sort of spur-of-the-moment. Cora said you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not. It’s great to have you.” Maggie gave her best raised-eyebrow look at Cora when Vanessa turned away, and Cora’s blush deepened. Vanessa ran off to get a map, giving Maggie a moment alone with her sister.
“Before you complain,” Cora jumped in, “I didn’t plan this.”
“I’m not going to complain,” Maggie said. “I wanted to meet her, didn’t I? I just didn’t think it’d be this soon. Did you have a brunch date this morning?”
Cora winced and turned away, mumbling something.
“What?” Maggie asked.
“She spent the night.” Cora was positively crimson.
“Cora! It’s been a week.” She put her hand to her chest. “I’m scandalized.” Teasing her little sister was the best part of having a little sister.
Cora rolled her eyes and finally cracked a grin. “Stop it. Don’t embarrass me.”
Maggie decided to give her a break. “OK, OK. I’ll be on my best behavior.” Vanessa was out of earshot, chatting with the person running the map stand. She was certainly cute. “No stories of you wetting the bed at camp.”
Cora poked her in the ribs. “That was you.”
“But Vanessa doesn’t know that.”
Cora couldn’t retort before Vanessa was back, waving a handful of printed sheets of paper. “I got maps for everyone, in case we split up.” She handed a map to each of them. “I was thinking I wanted to start with dumplings.”
“I like dumplings,” Cora said, her eyes big and soft as she looked at Vanessa. Boy, she was in deep. Maggie could already see how this afternoon was going to go, but she couldn’t be mad about it.
“I think I’m going to get some … falafel.” Maggie gestured vaguely behind her. “We can meet up after.”
“Great.” Vanessa was already heading off to the dumplings cart, hair blowing in the wind, Cora leaning into her as though drawn by a magnet. It was a beautiful day, and if her sister was happy, there were worse places to be left behind. She and Cora could catch up another time.
The falafel line snaked its way through the park and she had time to scan the crowds while waiting.
There was nothing like a food truck event to bring in people from all over the city: young professionals, older couples, families, the college-aged crowd.
Kids chased each other through the lines, sometimes followed by a beleaguered parent, sometimes unaccompanied, either old enough to wander alone or having escaped from supervision.
The beer stalls had some of the longest lines of all, mostly youngish guys living up to their own stereotype.
She placed her order and waited with the rest of the throng, continuing to people-watch.
Then, a familiar face emerged from the crowd: Blake was here, smiling and nodding in conversation with two men about the same age walking hand-in-hand.
“Blake!” she called. When Blake spotted her, his face lit up, an expression of genuine happiness as though he didn’t see her every day.
Blake led introductions. “Andrew, Zane, this is my roommate, Maggie. Maggie, this is my friend Andrew and his boyfriend, Zane.”
Handshakes all around. Andrew was an inch or so shorter than Blake, with short, wavy auburn hair and skin so pale he must have to wear a gallon of sunscreen.
Zane was a few inches taller than all of them, with medium-brown skin and short black curly hair.
He wore wire-framed glasses and gave her a shy smile. “Nice to meet you,” he said.
“Blake’s talked a lot about you,” Andrew added. “He said he thought we might run into you here.”
“Can’t miss the food trucks.” Maggie spread her hands wide, taking in the whole scene.
Blake looked around. “What happened to your sister?”
“She brought a date and they’re off getting dumplings.” She pointed. “That’s them at the front of the line.”
“Ooh, dumplings sound good.” Zane raised his eyebrows at Andrew. “Want to get some?”
Andrew glanced from Zane to Blake. “Blake?”
Blake waved them off. “I’m going to get some of the lamb and rice at this halal cart.”
“Nice to meet you, Maggie!” Andrew called as he and Zane walked away, the two waving while staying shoulder to shoulder.
Maggie’s number came up and her falafel wrap arrived in a white paper sleeve, along with a can of Coke already perspiring. “Lamb and rice?” she asked, following Blake absent-mindedly to the next cart over.
“Short line. I don’t feel like dumplings.
” He glanced at her, up and down, and if it weren’t Blake, she’d swear he was checking her out.
Maybe he was. She’d gone the “cute but comfortable” route for today, pairing dark jeans with a loose orange linen blouse, and Blake’s eyes definitely lingered on her neckline before he looked away and cleared his throat.
“You don’t have to wait with me,” he said.
“C’mon, we’re both third wheels. We should stick together.” She nudged him with her elbow and tucked the can of Coke into her purse. “But I’m not waiting to eat.”
Blake smiled. “No, I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Fortunately, a falafel wrap was easy to eat while standing up.
God, this was good. She didn’t order falafel nearly enough and the texture was perfect, the yogurt-based sauce delicious, and it wasn’t until Blake had been staring at her for a while that she realized she’d been making happy eating noises.
“What?” She made a face. “It’s good.”
“Clearly.” Blake wasn’t even hiding his amusement. “As good as the risotto the other night?”
That risotto had been phenomenal. “Good in a different way. Like, I couldn’t eat that risotto standing up in a food truck line.”
“Not neatly, anyway.” Blake inhaled deeply, his chest rising. “It smells amazing over here.”
“Did you know you were going to be with a couple, or was it a surprise?” She folded back the edge of the foil to reveal more of the wrap, the soft pita flexing in her hand.
Blake looked off toward where his other friends had gone. “I was originally planning to go with Andrew, but he asked me last night how I felt about Zane joining us. I’ve been wanting to meet him anyway.”
“Did you get to talk much before they ran off for dumplings?” Maggie followed Blake’s gaze to where Zane and Andrew were still in line, still holding hands. Vanessa and Cora had moved to a picnic table under a large oak tree, talking and laughing together.
“We talked on the T, yeah. He seems nice.”
The vendor handed Blake a round aluminum dish filled with piles of yellow rice and lamb, covered with several different sauces, the plastic lid barely containing it all. “Wow. Can’t eat this standing up.” Blake pocketed the soda can for only a second before pulling it back out “Yikes! That’s cold.”
“I’ve got room.” Maggie tucked Blake’s soda next to her own in her purse. “I don’t want to interrupt the couples yet. Want to have a third-wheel lunch at that picnic table over there?”
“Perfect.” He followed her over. “It’s within sight of Andrew and Zane if they decide they want to join us.”
Maggie looked at the two giving moon eyes at each other. “They’re not gonna join us.”
Blake gave a wistful half smile. “No, probably not.” He peeled back the crimped foil edge of his container, steam curling out as he lifted the plastic lid. “Gosh, this looks amazing.”
“Yeah, it does. I’ve never had lamb.” Maggie distributed their sodas and returned to the last bites of her falafel.
Blake mixed the sauces into the rice and lamb, then took a bite, his eyes sliding closed as his lips wrapped around the fork.
Oh.
By the time Maggie realized she was staring, she’d been staring for a while. Had he noticed? Shit, was she sweating? Watching his lips do indecent things to that fork had her suddenly imagining what else those lips could do, and damn, that was dangerous.
She’d been having a lot of those dangerous thoughts lately.
“Good?” she made herself ask.
He nodded. “Delicious. Want to try?” He filled his fork and lifted it up toward her.
He probably intended for her to take the fork, but instead, she found herself leaning in to take the bite directly.