Chapter 26 Dawsen
Dawsen
We’ve made it almost all the way through Birdie’s “Unlikely Friends” playlist, just as we’re approaching a coffee shop that I mapped ahead of time.
We’re only about fifteen minutes away from our destination, but if I know anything about Birdie, it’s that she always wants a coffee, and I know she’s going to love this place particularly.
It’s new to Munsen, and it’s been getting a lot of attention because they give back to different charities each month. They’re also into all that hipster coffee bullshit that I know she loves.
Birdie has her feet pulled up with her on the seat, and she’s tapping her fingers to the beat of the music on her knees, humming while staring out the window.
What I wouldn’t give to know what’s going through that brain of hers.
I veer off to the right, heading towards the exit.
“Where are we going?” Birdie rearranges her feet on the seat and turns her body towards me, knowing that we’re most definitely taking a detour.
I can’t help but just smirk, knowing she hates not knowing what’s going on.
“You’ll see.” I say, eyes on the road. I hear her scoff in frustration. “Dawsen. Are you kidnapping me? Where are we going?”
I glance over at her and roll my eyes.
“Yeah Birdie. I’m kidnapping you and taking you to your new favorite place. Just relax, would you?”
She crosses her arms like she’s pouting. “Ooh, my new favorite place you say? And what makes you an expert on my favorite places?” She says playfully, readjusting in her seat—again.
God, she’s distracting.
“I’ve known you since you were a kid, Birdie.
I think I know a little bit about you.” I say, somewhat boastfully.
Birdie makes enough comments to me about not really knowing her, which makes me so frustrated, because I know her.
Fuck, I mean, I’ve tried not knowing her.
I’ve tried to forget her crazy outfits, her coffee order, her weird nervous habits and I’ve definitely tried to forget the way she always smells like a damn cupcake.
It feels like she tries so damn hard to convince me that we’re strangers, when I’ve known her the better part of my life.
I mean yeah, she’s been away for a few years, but my heart has never not raced at the mention of her name.
So yeah, I know Birdie Banks. She’s my favorite thing to know.
And it might be the death of me when someone guy claims her as his own.
And I wish to God that I could be that guy.
And it fucking kills me knowing I won’t be.
Cause God, what I wouldn’t do for this woman.
“Hmm, fair point. Okay, well let’s see what you got, Jones.
” She slides her sunglasses onto her face from the top of her head.
She pulls down the visor of my truck and pops open the mirror.
She takes herself in, messing with her hair and makeup.
She reaches into her bag and grabs a tube of chap stick and swipes it across her lips.
It’s in that moment that I realize how much of a hazard it is to drive with this woman.
So distracting.
* * *
I pull into the small parking lot of the coffee shop.
It’s a small white brick building that stands alone on the outskirts of an old downtown area.
The building is worn and old, but you can tell it’s well maintained.
They have green vines growing on the side of it, with beautiful rich bricks paving the lot.
There are large pots filled with plants around the entire perimeter of the building and quaint bistro tables placed aesthetically on their outdoor patio.
There are locals reading newspapers and sipping from blue ceramic mugs, and there are dogs laying nearby their owners, and a water dish set out by the cafe doors.
The smell of coffee drifting into the parking lot is strong. The coffee aroma mixed with the smell of pines from the trees nearby is probably the closest thing to what heaven probably smells like. Which makes me think of mom, and how she would love this place too.
“Holy Shit, Daws! Look! There’s a golden retriever on the patio!” Birdie basically squeals while also grabbing my bicep and pointing at the long haired dog laying at the feet of its owner.
“Told you you’d like it here.” I say smugly, because I know I’m right, even though I can’t really take credit for the golden retriever sighting. But, it definitely bodes well for all intents and purposes.
“Well, I haven’t tried their version of a maple latte yet, so verdict is still out, big guy.”
“Big guy? You haven’t used that one before.
” I tease her, and as we approach the door of the coffee shop, I pull it open in one swift motion, and dramatically wave my arm out In front of her, motioning for her to enter first. “After you, little lady.” I say with a wink, and she returns with an eye roll.
That’s my girl.