7
When she got home, she discovered thatMaybesomedayhad messaged her. He messaged her most days, often telling her about an epic hike he’d done or a wicked bike ride. He seemed like life was a daily adventure. She bet he didn’t talk about his colon on a date.
He said,
Farmer’s Almanac says weather will be fair tomorrow.
I thought I’d take an easy bike ride. Want to ride along? –Maybesomeday
She was tempted to refuse, but he seemed nice and it would be good to have a palate cleanser afterVegeman. Not wishing to get into another awkward situation regarding food, she replied:
Love to. Why don’t I bring a picnic lunch?
To which he replied:Sweet!
When she pulled into their meeting spot in her dusty, red truck, he was waiting. He wore baggy shorts and sneakers with a shirt advertising a band she’d never heard of. His hair was blond and curly and he had the kind of too-good-to-be-true innocent blue eyes that reminded her of her younger brother, Cooper’s.
When she climbed out of the truck, he said, “Hi Margaret, I’m Chuck.”
“It’s Marguerite. It’s French.”
“Right. Okay.” He hefted her old mountain bike out of the back inspecting it critically. She didn’t know much about bikes but his was obviously a lot newer and fancier. She fetched her helmet and the backpack containing their picnic from her truck. He reached for the backpack and told her he would carry it. She wondered if he was being helpful or afraid she’d fall off her bike and ruin his lunch. Probably a bit of both.
She wore cropped yoga leggings, a hiking shirt and sneakers. In her pack was a light biking jacket in case the weather turned. “Do you have a route in mind?”
“Thought we’d take it easy and ride on the path by the river.”
“Sounds good,” she said, pulling on her helmet.
And it was good. He went at a reasonable pace and she had no trouble keeping up. After a couple of hours, he pulled over into a clearing beside a large pool. As they dismounted, he said, “I thought we’d eat here.”
“Great.” She unpacked sandwiches. “I forgot to ask you what you like, so I made hummus and spinach and cheese and tomato.”
“Good stuff.”
“And there are brownies for dessert.”
They chatted over their lunch and he was an easy companion. As she’d suspected, he was underemployed. “I work in a bike shop, part time. I’m kind of finishing my degree in Outdoor Rec. I’m living with my Mom for a while until I get on my feet, you know?”
“I do.”
He was only two years younger than she was but seemed a lot younger somehow.
When they got back to her truck he said, “That was fun. Want to do it again sometime?”
She hesitated. He was a nice guy but not for her. She took her time stowing the backpack into her truck and turned back to him. “I would. But could we just be friends?”
“Absolutely. Next time I’ll bring the food.” And he grinned in a cheerful way and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
“Honestly,” she said later to Iris, “I think I made a new friend.”
“Plus, he ate actual food and didn’t tell you about his digestive troubles.”
“So, one bad date, one fun friend date so far.”
“You know what they say, third time lucky.”
The Fall HarvestFair was a big deal in the limited social calendar of Hidden Falls community events. This being October in the Pacific Northwest, Daphne’s biggest fear was rain. Since Marguerite was going to be operating her fruit and vegetable stand, rain had been a big concern for her, also. There were backup plans of course, mostly involving moving a lot of the fair into the high school, but fortunately, contingency plans would not be needed as Marguerite could see from the moment she got up in the morning that the sky was clear.
