An Autumn Stroll: An Inspirational Romance

by Leah Atwood

  “Don’t forget Mrs. Bryant had nothing but good things to say about him, and she can spot a bad egg from a mile away.” She had an innate desire to defend Wes after she’d previously spoken so poorly of him.

  “Good point.” Crossing her hands on the table, Missy stared at her. “You really like him, don’t you?”

  “It’s too early to tell.” She squirmed in her seat. “But the potential is there.”

  A sparkle shimmered in Missy’s gaze. “You haven’t willingly gone on a date in two years since your twenty-sixth birthday.”

  “That’s not true.” She ticked off names on her fingers. “There was Tom, then Andre, and Tyler.”

  “And those were all blind dates Mom, and Aunt Linda, set you up with.”

  “You win.” She tossed her hands in the air, signaling surrender. “But you hit an age when you decide there’s no point dating when you know there’s no connection. I’m too old to waste time on fruitless endeavors.”

  “How do you know there’s no connection if you’ve never spent time with them?

  Paige locked eyes with Missy, feeling every bit of their eight-year age difference. “As you get older, you learn. You’re more in tune with what you want out of a relationship, like a man who doesn’t live in his mom’s basement or doesn’t go out to bars every night. Certain characteristics are an automatic no, which greatly filters out the options.”

  “Sounds like you’re too picky.” Missy sat upright, pressed her back to the wood dining room chair.

  “There’s a difference between preferences and pickiness.” She winked. “For example, Wes has brown hair, and though I’ve always preferred men with lighter hair, I’m still going out with him. So there.”

  Missy broke into laughter. “Like you’d ever be shallow enough to decline a date because you didn’t like his hair color.”

  “Hey, I’ve seen other people do it.” She pushed away from the table and stood. “Come on, your lunch break’s almost over, and you still haven’t helped me find something to wear.”

  “I have the perfect outfit in mind.” Missy left her seat and beckoned for Paige to follow her upstairs.

  Her sister lived in the main house with their parents. Paige climbed the steps and turned left at the top of the stairwell. Went to the room they’d shared as children until Paige had moved out six years ago.

  Missy opened the closet doors and withdrew a tunic-length maroon shirt with peasant sleeves. “Wear this and a pair of leggings.”

  “I don’t have any leggings.”

  “How are you my sister?” Missy strode to the side wall and rummaged in a drawer. She pulled out two pairs of leggings—one with geometric shapes and a pair of solid black ones. “Which ones do you like better?”

  “My jeans?” She grinned at her sister whose fashion sense was much stronger than her own.

  “Set the denim aside for one night, sister dear. I promise you’ll love these. They’re super comfortable.”

  “The solid black ones then.”

  Missy replaced the colorful pair in the drawer. “I knew you’d choose those.”

  “What shoes should I wear?”

  “Your black kid-skin boots or a pair of ballet flats.”

  Paige scrunched her nose. “I lost my only pair of black flats and haven’t replaced them yet.”

  “How’d you lose a pair of shoes?”

  “Remember that conference we went to in August?” She waited for Missy’s nod, then continued. “The only thing I can figure is that I left them in the hotel although I called the lobby once I realized they were missing and no one turned them in.”

  “You can borrow mine if you’d like.” She turned back to the closet and emerged fifteen seconds later with the shoes. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” She grabbed the shoes, shirt, and leggings from Missy and tucked them under her arm. “Boots are more practical in this weather, but Wes probably thinks that’s all I own.”

  “You’ll look great in whatever you wear.” Missy’s gaze traveled to the clock radio on her nightstand. “I have to get back to work, but you better call me tonight and tell me all the details.”

  “I will. Thanks for your help and letting me borrow clothes.” She hugged her sister, then left the room, hurried down the stairs to run home.

  She was experimenting with hairstyles when her phone rang. With one hand still holding her hair in a faux ponytail, she glanced at the screen. Wes was calling. She let her hair fall to her shoulders and answered his call.

  “Hi there.” An automatic smile curved her lips. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

  “Me too, but there’s a slight change of plans.” A hint of nervousness touched his tone. “Mom won tickets for a show tomorrow. One of those kid-geared live shows with cartoon characters and such.”

  “That’s exciting. You’re taking Myla?”

  “No. Mom and Dad are taking her, but it starts at nine-thirty and is an hour away. Rather than wake Myla early to get her ready, she’s spending the night at my parents’ house.”

  Was he rescheduling? Her heart sunk, making her realize she’d wanted tonight more than she’d thought. “Did you want to take her to the pizza buffet another night?”

  “We’ll do that soon, but I’d still like to go out with you tonight if you don’t mind it being only you and me. No kid.” She heard him take a deep breath and release it. “A real date.”

  Happiness bubbled within her, returning her heart to its rightful place—maybe a little higher. “I’d like that.”

  ***

  Several hours later, she sat at a corner table in a small bistro located in downtown Covington. A few bites of her Cobb salad remained on her plate, but she couldn’t eat anymore. She’d made the mistake of eating an entire mini-loaf of bread that was baked daily on the premise. Carbs were her weakness, and she didn’t regret the indulgence once bit except not being able to finish her main meal.

  Wes laid down his fork, indicating he’d finished as well. “How was your salad?”

  “Delicious. I was leery of trying the house dressing, but I’m glad I did.”

  “What does it taste like?” He tilted his chin to the small dish it had come in. “I’m not much of an adventurer and stick with thousand island.”

  “A mix of ranch and blue cheese, which surprised me that I liked it.”

  “You don’t like those two?”

  She shook her head. “I love ranch, hate blue cheese. Whatever they did to combine the flavors worked though.”

  “Maybe I’ll try it next time. The office orders lunch from here at least once a week.”

  “I’ve never been before, but I foresee more stops in the future.” She drank a sip of her water.

  “I eat out way more than I should, but not so much since getting Myla.”

  “Learning to cook now?”

  A sheepish grin appeared. “Do I lose points if I confess my mom brings meals for me to freeze? But only since I took in Myla.”

  “If you do, then so do I.” She twisted her napkin to keep her hands busy. “I told you how often I eat at the farm’s restaurant. To make it worse, on the days I don’t, I usually stop by my parents’ house and eat whatever mom cooked.”

  “That’s different. It’s all on the same property.”

  She laid the napkin on her plate. “For the record, I can cook. I make a cashew chicken that’s better than takeout.”

  “One of my favorites.”

  “I’ll make it for you one night, but I use the slow cooker, so I need advanced notice.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t hinting at an invitation.”

  “I know, but the offer stands.” Strangely, she didn’t stop to consider he might not want to spend more time with her. The ease and comfort she experienced with him were too strong to be one-sided.

  “I’ll remember that.” He grinned and removed his wallet from his pocket, slid out a card and placed it in the check holder. “And take you up on it soon.”

>   Her hands itched to remove several bills from her wallet and hand them over, but she already knew from their last dinner, Wes wouldn’t let her pay, not even the tip. Some women would be annoyed by his insistence, and though she’d gladly pay her own share, she had to admit that she liked him paying for her.

  Maybe because her parents illustrated a prime example of a relationship where the man took care of the woman while always treating her with the utmost of respect, but Paige had never felt the need to prove her independence to the world.

  She knew who she was, what she was capable of, and if a man wanted to treat her to a meal, then she’d accept the gesture with gratitude. She didn’t understand the offense some women took, and it made her think she’d been born in the wrong decade. Even Missy, whose ideas of gender equality differed from hers, appreciated shows of chivalry.

  After their bill was paid, Paige gave Wes a smile. “Thank you for dinner. I enjoyed it.”

  He returned the smile with a heart-skipping one of his own and slipped the card back into his wallet. “My pleasure.”

  Chapter Eight

  Reluctant for the night to end, Wes wracked his brain for an activity to suggest they do that would keep their date going. They both were full so coffee wouldn’t be a good idea. He’d checked the movies earlier, but there were none appropriate for viewing. Not in his opinion, and from what he knew of Paige, felt certain she’d agree as well.

  Bowling? He admittedly wasn’t very good and would embarrass himself. Even Myla, who adored him, wasn’t impressed by his skills in that arena. Skating? That’d be even worse. For being a star athlete in high school—captain of the soccer team—he possessed a surprisingly low level of coordination.

  A paint night place had opened last week, but that required reservations. Even if there were walk-ins available, the next session started a half hour ago. He’d investigated it that afternoon for future date ideas.

  The only thing that came to mind was a walk. Though the temperature had dropped with the cover of night, it wasn’t insufferable. Would Paige want to? No way to know except asking. Outside of the bistro, he paused instead of leading the way to the car. “Would you like to walk around town for a few minutes? If you’re not too cold.”

  “I’d like that.” Her gaze shifted briefly to her clothing. “Between my coat and scarf, I’ll stay warm.”

  They walked the square of the downtown area. Only two weeks into November, half the storefronts already had Christmas windows. Painted snow, garland draped inside, baubles hanging from the ceiling. Displays purposely arranged to sell more product.

  Paige tightened the scarf around her neck. “I love Christmas, but I also love fall and Thanksgiving. My family complains about Christmas décor going up in November, but I think it’s the best of both worlds.” She pointed to a store ahead. “See, the handbag store still has fall up with the captivating reds and oranges, but next door, the jewelry store has a whimsical winter display.”

  “That’s one way to look at it.” The cold began to nip at his fingers. He shoved his hands into his pockets, gleaning what warmth he could. “Personally, I fall into the no Christmas decorations until December camp, but it doesn’t bother me to see them early.”

  “What does bother me is when ‘Christmas Sales’ are advertised beginning earlier and earlier. That’s when the commercialism takes over, and I get frustrated.”

  “Have you noticed recently there have been more nativities around town and religious-themed outfitting?” He tipped his head in the direction of one he’d seen moments ago. “That gives me hope that our society is coming back to the true meaning of the holiday.”

  “I haven’t, but I’ll start looking. How wonderful would that be?” A serene smile settled on her face. “Our church has a live nativity every year, and until I graduated high school, I always participated. One year I was Mary and rode on a donkey. It was only for a short time, yet it left a profound mark on me. I can only imagine how she felt, very pregnant, traveling all that way to Bethlehem.”

  “My favorite part of the Christmas story has always been when the angels appear to the shepherds. It’s a fantastical image, and I’ve always thought it gives us a small glimpse of what heaven will be like.”

  She shivered and fastened the top button of her coat that she’d previously left undone. “I can’t wait until Christmas, but I don’t want to rush through the next two weeks and forget Thanksgiving.”

  “I have an idea. As we pass each store that’s still decorated for fall, let’s count how many turkeys are on each.”

  Her eyes lit with intrigue. “Then what?”

  He hadn’t thought that far—the idea had been impulsive. “Whichever one has the most, we’ll go there on our next date. It’s like a different version of the penny date.”

  She raised a brow and smiled. “Next date?”

  “Was I too presumptuous?” He bit his cheek waiting for her answer.

  “Not at all.”

  Infused with confidence, he reached for her hand, pleased when she didn’t pull away. They continued navigating the square, observing and counting the number of turkeys in each window. It was an absurd game, but it made them laugh.

  When all stores had been accounted for, the winner was Lydia’s Bath and Beauty. He grinned at Paige. “I know where Mom’s present will come from this year.”

  “You’re really going to come back and buy something?”

  He nodded. “That was our rule. Plus, it’s my mom’s favorite store. She has lupus, and Lydia’s carries a line of bath salts that help her feel better when she has a flare-up.”

  “My aunt has lupus and has mentioned something about salt baths. Maybe I’ll pick up some for her to try.”

  “Mom loves them.” He saw her shiver then noticed her chattering teeth. “It’s getting too cold out here, even bundled up.”

  “I tried to ignore it because I’m having fun, but it’s seeping into my bones.” She offered an apologetic glance.

  They returned to the car, keeping silent on the way. Once Paige was settled inside, Wes got on the driver’s side and turned on the engine. A blast of cold air hit them. He turned down the heat until the engine had a chance to warm up. Within a mile, they had hot air, and he adjusted the vents to best warm them and then turned on the heated seats.

  Paige rubbed her hands together. “The heat is amazing. I didn’t realize how cold I was until the hot air hit me.”

  “Fall arrived late, but it sure came with a bang.”

  He came to a four-way stop, braked to a complete standstill, and saw no vehicles approaching. Pressing his foot on the accelerator, he entered the intersection.

  Paige’s scream pierced his ears. “Stop!”

  His foot slammed against the brake pedal, and the car came to a stop, narrowly avoiding a collision with an SUV barreling through the intersection without its headlights on. There was no way the truck had stopped at the sign.

  Now that the danger had fled, the seconds of pent-up fear released. Since no other cars were around, he put the car in park and turned on the hazard lights in case anyone approached. His heart thumped against his chest, and he sent a prayer to gratitude to God for protecting them. “How did you see him?”

  “I happened to glance out in time to see the light from his cell phone. It looked like he was texting.” Her voice trembled, and it sounded like she gasped for air.

  Staring over, he saw her hands shaking. “Thank the Lord you looked up.”

  Visibly shaken, she only nodded and didn’t give a verbal response.

  “Are you okay?” He narrowed his eyes, guarding her with concern. The ordeal had been terrifying, but they were safe. What was causing the extreme reaction from her?

  “I will be.”

  Once his heart returned to a normal pace, he turned off the hazards and drove again. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other on Paige’s unsteady hand. When they arrived at her home, she still displayed physical signs of fear and anxiousness. He hesi
tated to leave her alone in that condition.

  He walked her to the door and saw tears in her eyes. That did it. He wasn’t going anywhere until she was settled. The close call had unleashed something in her, and he wouldn’t abandon her at a low point.

  She wiped at her eye. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek. “Would you care for company?”

  Nodding, she inserted her key in the doorknob and unlocked it. She pushed the door open and invited him to come in. “Do you drink tea? I could use a soothing cup of chamomile.”

  He didn’t, but there was a first time for everything. “Sure. If you tell me where everything is, I can make it.”

  “I’ve got it. Have a seat and relax.” Her voice was returning to normal.

  After she went into the kitchen, Wes sat on the left side of her brown leather sofa. He looked around the room, taking in the living space. Contrary to the outside of her cabin, the inside had been decorated for autumn. Little woodland creatures sat on the bookshelves, and a pair of scarecrows sat on opposing ends of the television. A brown and orange flannel throw was folded over the sofa. The entire area created an atmosphere of coziness that matched Paige’s personality.

  Her approaching footsteps drew him out of his thoughts.

  She sat down on the other end of the sofa. “The tea kettle is on. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

  “Are you feeling better?” He searched her gaze for any indication.

  “Getting there.” She leaned into the corner of the sofa. “I’m sorry for getting all emotional. The close call resurrected a tragic memory.”

  “Care to talk about it?”

  “I had a childhood friend who, much like your sister, grew up with all the advantages a child could have, but in high school, joined the wrong crowd. Her life spiraled into a chaotic spin of drugs and alcohol.” Her bottom lip quivered. “One night, the summer after we graduated, she got behind the wheel of a car. She’d been drinking and shooting heroin and had no business driving. But she did and ran through an intersection. Slammed into a minivan, killing a young boy and herself.”