When I get out of the shower, I take a shot and send her a text.
I am heading out for breakfast. Wanna join?
I pull some clothes out of my closet and get dressed when I hear my phone buzzing.
Sure. Where?
I’m a little shocked that she so easily agreed, but I go with it and don’t even question her.
The Dish Café. 9:00?
See you then.
After another cup of coffee, I head out and make my way to the local dive. I’m there first, so I go ahead and order her a tea while I wait. I pick up the menu to give it a lookover, and when I shift my eyes up, I see her walking in. I notice her leopard rain boots peeking out underneath her jeans, and laugh to myself. This chick obviously has a thing for leopard.
“Hey,” I say as she shrugs off her coat and sits down.
“Hi, thanks for inviting me. I literally have no food at the house.”
“So, what did you wind up doing last night?” I ask.
Slumping back in her chair, she says, “I ate an old bag of popcorn and passed out on the couch.”
“That’s pathetic,” I laugh.
Widening her eyes, she agrees, “My thoughts exactly.”
When the waiter stops by and brings us our drinks, she eyes the tea he sets down in front of her and I say, “I ordered you a hot tea.”
She looks a bit surprised when she replies, “Oh, thanks,” before picking up her menu. I watch her and notice her eyebrow give a slight twitch, but she distracts me when she suddenly asks, “So, how was your Thanksgiving?”
“It was good. We did the typical family thing like we do every year. Mom and her sisters being loud and gossipy, cooking all day. I hung out with the guys and watched football while the kids ran around screaming and playing. My head was pounding by the end of the night.”
She keeps a serious face when she says, “That actually sounds nice.”
“Yeah, it is,” I agree. “It’s not too often that everyone can get together, so when it does happen, it’s fun. Crazy, but fun.”
“What can I get you guys this morning?” the waiter asks when he drops by again.
“Um, I’ll have the two blueberry pancakes,” she tells him as she hands him the menu, and then I place my order.
She takes a sip of her tea and then asks, “So how many nieces and nephews do you have?”
Setting down my coffee, I say, “Three nieces and four nephews all under the age of five.” I smile when I add, “I’m not lying when I say it’s loud and crazy.”
When she doesn’t say anything in response, I ask, “So, you’re an only child?”
“Yeah. I have a pretty small family. My grandparents on my father’s side died when I was in high school, and I have never met my mother’s parents or her sister. My father is an only child as well, so it’s just the three of us.”
“Quiet.”
“Hmmm . . .” is all she replies before switching the topic back to me. “Is your mother out with the crazy Black Friday crowd today?”
“God, you have no idea. She and my aunts go bat-shit over the sales.”
When the waiter stops by and drops off our food, Candace lets out a satisfied sigh that I find humorous as she inspects her pancakes. She picks up her fork, and she must be hungry by the look on her face.
“That’s a shitload of food. You gonna be able to eat all that?” I ask.
Eying me, she cuts a huge piece off and for such a sophisticated looking girl, she shoves it in her mouth, giving me a gratified nod, and I literally laugh out loud at the scene she’s putting on.
“So, is all of your family in Oregon?” she asks while she eats.
“Yeah. I grew up there.”
“Why didn’t you ever go back after you graduated?”
“Because I bought out the bar. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. But honestly, Cannon Beach is a small town. I love Seattle and had already been here for four years and felt pretty settled. So I stayed,” I explain. “My mom had a hard time though. She had hoped that I would eventually move back, but it’s been ten years since I’ve been here, so she’s accepted that this is my home.”
“You two sound close,” she says before taking another bite.
“Yeah,” is all I respond when I take a sip of my coffee and continue to eat.
When Candace tosses down her fork and leans back, almost painfully, in her seat, she closes her eyes and lets out a groan that I laugh at.
“I can’t believe you ate all that. You sound like you’re about to die,” I tease.
“You have no idea,” she says as she opens her eyes.
“You gonna be able to walk, or will I have to carry you?”
Shifting around in her seat, she tells me, “Honestly, I really need to walk this off.”
“Come on, let’s get outta here,” I say as I stand up, not wanting to become a victim of a missed opportunity. I toss some cash onto the table and reach my hand out for her to take, and she does.
Walking her out into the rain, I nod my head over to where I’m parked for her to follow.
She stops in her steps and asks, “What?”
“I know you don’t have shit to do today, so come on,” I say as I walk over to my Rubicon. When I look back at her, she’s still standing there. “Come on,” I repeat.
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll figure that shit out when you get in.”