The sound of the bell rings as someone opens the door, but my back is to them, so I can’t see who walked in. A soft, almost familiar chuckle comes from behind me, but I keep my eyes on the tv, not paying attention to anything until the seat next to me is pulled out. And it’s the last face I would’ve ever expected to see.
Emery Sutton.
halcyon—calm and peaceful;
happy, prosperous
Emery
My eyes widen when I see him, completely shocked and unprepared. I’m about to leave—dodge out of sight and grab McDonalds to save myself from embarrassment—but a sentence runs through my mind. Speaking of chances, I want you to take one. Do something crazy. This is it. This is my chance. My crazy.
Inhaling a breath of bravery, I walk up to Mason. “Is this seat taken?” I ask it as I’m already in the process of sitting down, setting my coat and purse on the chair to my right. When he doesn’t answer me, I finally bring my attention to him, and it makes me wonder if maybe the seat actually was taken. “I can move…”
Mason clears his throat. “No. No, please sit. I was just surprised to see you.” He smiles, and I have to remember to breathe at the sight. Smile lines crease around his eyes. One dimple on his left cheek pokes out, and it’s so genuine. “How are you?” he asks me.
“Um, I’m not sure yet. It’s been a weird morning.” Adding a small laugh, I leave it at that. From the moment I woke up, my anxiety has been gnawing at me—a heaviness in my throat and chest, a tightness in my shoulders. My hands shake, and I find myself constantly squeezing them into fists and wiggling out my fingers. I rarely get like this, but I guess given everything that’s happened in the last six months, I shouldn’t be surprised.
I return the question. “How are you?”
It’s his turn to quietly chuckle as he moves his coffee mug in a circle. “I’m… good. Tired. Just got out of work and decided to wind down first.”
“Just got out of work? Dang, you must be exhausted. Are you an…EMT?”
He slowly shakes his head. “I’m a paramedic,” he says with a shy smile before evading my eyes and twirling his thumbs above his mug.
“That’s awesome. A selfless job, that’s for sure.” I never ask if people like their jobs, it seems too personal, and it could be uncomfortable.
“Thank you. I love it, it’s exciting and intense. Some shifts it’s calm, and some there’s so much adrenaline, you don’t know what to do with it. I love being able to be one of the first ones on the scene to help someone. There are hard days—hard as hell days—but the days where you save someone? God, it’s like a high.”
I smile at his passion about what he does. “That’s incredible. Hopefully, last night was a good shift?” Talking to him is easy, he makes conversation feel welcome.
Mason nods. “Yeah, yeah. It was. We started out with an unresponsive toddler, and that was… intense. But he’s okay. We were able to stabilize him until he got to the hospital.”
My eyes widen, and my jaw drops. “You saved a toddler last night? And you’re this nonchalant about it? I would be yelling that from the rooftops.” I laugh, and so does he.
“Trust me, in the beginning, I always yelled from the rooftops. But you get humbled very quickly. With good ones come bad ones, and those are enough to keep you grounded. To never get your chest pumped up.” He shifts his body to face me and looks down at his hands. “These hands hold lives in them all the time, and it’s so unpredictable. You could have a textbook case, but something could completely go wrong. You never know.”
He looks up at me and gives me an embarrassed smile before scratching his head. “Sorry, that was a lot of unnecessary rambling.” He adds a laugh, and I smile.
“No. It’s fascinating, really. Please, don’t apologize.” I scratch my head, and continue, “Honestly? It’s nice talking to someone about normal things. It’s been a heavy six months. The distraction—well, conversation—feels good.” As I chuckle, a nice lady comes up to us.
“Well, hello! I’m sorry, I would’ve come sooner! I’m Susie, what can I get for ya, hun?” Her kindness radiates warmth, and it’s inviting.
I smile. “No worries. I sort of snuck in here. Can I just start with a coffee?”
She’s already pouring it as I finish speaking, then she smiles at me. “I’ll give you a few minutes, and then I’ll check on ya.”
“Thank you,” I tell her before looking back at Mason. He’s staring at me with a curious look as if he’s trying to figure me out. “What?” I ask him with an embarrassed grin.
He sticks his tongue in his cheek with a smirk, and it’s alarming how handsome he is. I have to remind myself I’m not doing anything wrong. There is no need to feel guilty. Everyone heals in their own way. There is no time limit on healing.
I repeat the mantra in my head before Mason answers me. “Nothing. I’m just surprised you’re here. Sitting next to me. I thought you would’ve run in the other direction.”
A laugh escapes, and I bring the mug to my lips and nod. “I’m sorry you had me at a disadvantage that day. Like I said, it’s been a really, really hard few months.” His face twists just slightly. I wouldn’t have caught it if I weren’t looking at him, and I can’t place what he’s feeling. “But I’m trying to—I don’t know—culture myself? Get out on my own a little more now, I guess.”
“Culturing yourself at a homey diner? A little rebel, I see.” He chuckles into his mug, and at first, I giggle quietly, but it builds into a loud laugh. Soon, I can’t stop laughing, and I’m holding my stomach. He’s staring at me like I’ve gone mad, but he’s laughing too.
I wipe tears from my eyes. “Oh man. I’m in trouble.”
“Why’s that?”
A deep exhale spills from my mouth. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” My statement comes out heavy, and I didn’t mean to make the mood serious, but I’m trying to be transparent and honest with myself in everything I do as per the online advice, a.k.a. shitty therapy I’ve been giving myself. I look back at Mason. His elbow is on the counter, and his head rests against his propped-up fist, looking at me curiously again and happiness is etched all over his face.
He’s about to ask me something, but Susie comes back with about five plates of food and sets all of them in front of him. “Should I set a timer?” she teases him.
“Nah. I’m taking my time today.” He side-eyes me and winks. My cheeks burn, and I’m embarrassed about being embarrassed. I’m a damn mess.
Susie smiles at me. “Are you ready to order, sweetie?”
“I think I want that.” I point to Mason’s French Toast and he slides it to me.
“Eat mine,” he says through an already full mouth.
“No way. I’ll get mine. Plus, I don’t like to share food. I’d rather have extra.” I wink at him this time, and he quietly laughs.
When I look at Susie, she smiles. “You got it. Let me know if you want anything else.”
I sigh, taking a drink of coffee, and Mason asks me a question. “So, what do you do?”
“Well, I’m in between job titles right now. It’s not a bad thing. But normally, I’m a personal assistant. I work over at Tech7 Industries.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. That’s impressive.”
“You’re familiar?”
He nods, finishing his mouth full of food with a sip of coffee before he replies. “I’m a bit of a tech nerd.”
“That surprises me for some reason,” I confess.
“Really? Why?”
“Yeah. I don’t know, just an assumption. Which I’m horrible at, by the way. Clearly.”
“Well, you’re now 0-1, so I won’t argue with that assessment of yourself,” he playfully jabs, and I laugh. My food comes out moments later, and we eat as we watch the news, both of us commenting on it occasionally. We finish at the same time, which is insane considering how much food he had.
Sitting back, I pat my stomach, thankful I at least put on cute workout clothes this morning. “Thi
s was nice. This was good.”
“You sound surprised,” he notes.
“I think I am.” I realize he might think I’m referring to him. “I’m not surprised your company was good. I meant that I was surprised I was able to enjoy myself.”
“Why does that surprise you, Emery?” His eyes are intensely focused on mine, and the way he says my name adds a thick tension to the air.
I gulp. “I haven’t enjoyed my own company in what feels like a long time. I guess I’m shocked I was able to sit here with a partial stranger and not mess it up.” My eyes don’t leave his. Mason’s stare is unnerving, but it’s a good feeling, motivating even to do this more.
“I don’t think you could mess many things up.” His stare softens before placing money on the counter and looking back at me with a softness to his eyes. “Because this was the best breakfast I’ve had in as long as I can remember, and it wasn’t because of the food.” He smirks and turns back to Susie. “No offense!”
“None taken, baby!” she yells back as she counts money.
A smile grows on my face, and I bite my lip to stop it from getting too big. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I look down, but his fingers tip my chin back up again. “You should smile like that more, Emery.”
Now my eyes are wide. This almost feels… intimate, or maybe I’m not cultured enough, but butterflies rattle throughout my stomach as I replay the line again. Chances. Do something crazy.
Clearing my throat, I finally speak. “Mason?”
“Yes?” A gentle look graces his face, and it makes this feel a little easier.
“I’m not ready for any sort of relationship, but I really enjoyed myself today. Would you want to do this again? But as friends? I could really use one right now.” My cheeks are on fire as I hear how stupid I sound, but I don’t look away from him.
A smile builds, and it simmers the trepidation that was boiling when he says, “I would love that, Emery.” A sigh of relief leaves me, and he laughs. “Did you think I would say no?”
I shrug. “Honestly, this is all new to me. I’m more surprised you didn’t say no.” I purse my lips. “Can I ask you something?”
“Absolutely. I love questions. Brings me back to my days of crime on the streets.” He has a completely straight face. I think he’s kidding, but I’m not quite sure.
“I’m pretty well versed in sarcasm, but I can honest-to-God not tell if you’re joking or not right now.”
Mason laughs loudly, and the sound is soothing. His deep voice shakes down my spine, and it makes me shiver. “I’m kidding. I’ve only had like three speeding tickets when I was a teenager.”
“Well that makes this kind of awkward,” I deadpan.
His face changes. “Why?” He’s worried.
“I was in and out of jail a bit in my early twenties. I got in with a bad crowd, and I was the perfect cover. Who would you expect to distribute guns and drugs? A gang-banger or an innocent-looking twenty-one-year-old girl?”
His brows are pulled together, and he answers hesitantly, “A gang-banger?” He doesn’t believe me, but I am selling this story, so he’s not quite sure either.
“Exactly. But they had someone on the inside that got ahold of our schedule and busted us in the middle of a run.” I take a sip of my coffee so I don’t smile or laugh, but my lips pulled just slightly, and he caught it.
“Oh my God. You are full of shit.” He laughs loud. “I didn’t believe a word out of your mouth, and then I was like, ‘damn, maybe she has gotten around.’ That was impressive.”
We’re both laughing. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Oh man, I don’t even remember what I was going to ask you anymore.”
He smiles at me. “You are a breath of fresh air, Emery.”
“Now that is surprising because I don’t leave the house much. Stale air, maybe. Fresh? Shocking.” The wittiness surprises even me. I haven’t felt like this since before…nope, not going there. I don’t want to ruin the one normal setting I’ve had in six months. “I remember now what I was going to tell you.”
“Lay it on me.”
“You didn’t ask why it’s been sucky for me lately, and I wanted to say thank you. I didn’t want to talk about it, only because this has been refreshing. Normal, even. Typically, people like to pry into other people's issues, and you haven’t. I think that’s a great trait to have. So, thank you.”
He shrugs. “Nah. I’m not one to pry. I open up better when I’m not being forced, so I anticipate many others are the same. If you want to share, you will.” He smiles softly. “And I would absolutely love to do this with you again. As friends, of course. I can’t be disrupting my single streak, or God-forbid deactivate my Tinder. It’s been a process, okay?”
I grin for what feels like the hundredth time today. “Yes, now that would be an issue,” I tease back as I put money on the table.
“Do you still have my napkin?”
“I’m sorry, your what?” I’m confused.
He chuckles. “I’m going to take that as a no. Here.” He writes down his number on another napkin and slides it to me.
Take a chance, Em.
“You know what, I lose things easily. I’ll just text you right now, can you read it to me?”
“Sure.” I’ve amused him, and he rattles off his number before I send a text saying It’s the crazy broad from the diner.
“Thank you, Mason. Again. This was good.”
“This was good,” he repeats with a smirk. “Smile like that some more, Emery Jean.” My heart freezes at the sound of my name falling from his lips.
“Hey!” I yell out, and he stops to look back at me. “How did you know to call me that?”
A slow smile builds. “Harley.”
My face bunches in confusion. “Huh?”
“Coffee shop girl. She called you that.”
“How did you even catch that?” I’m confused as heck.
“I pay attention to things that interest me.” I’m officially stunned into silence.
My eyes follow him as he walks outside, zipping up his coat before he looks back at me and winks. With a shake of my head and a disbelieving smile, he walks away.
orphic—mysterious and entrancing;
beyond ordinary understanding
Mason
It took her a couple of days, but Emery finally bit the bullet and texted me today. I’m drawn to this girl like a magnet, so when she offered to be friends, it was a no brainer.
Emery: Hey, it’s Emery!
Me: Good morning. How are you?
Emery: I’m good.
Emery: How are you?
Me: I’m good. I have the day off, so I’m just hanging out. Going to go workout soon.
Emery: Oh, cool!
Me: :)
Emery: Okay, for some reason I’m really nervous to text you.
Me: Haha! There’s no need to be. Why are you nervous?
Emery: I don’t know! I don’t normally text guys, I guess.
Me: Well, I’m a friend so…
Emery: What’s your favorite color?
I chuckle at the ice breaker.
Me: Pink.
Emery: Oh, come on.
Me: What? Guys can’t like pink?
Emery: Wait, really?
Me: No, it’s black.
Emery: Jerk.
Me: So, you’re gullible, I see.
Emery: Har har.
Me: What’s your favorite color?
Emery: BLACK.
Me: I’m chuckling at your hostility over colors.
Emery: If you tell me something weird about you, I’ll tell you something weird about me.
Me: My twin brother and I can sense when the other one needs to talk.
Emery: That’s not weird. I feel like that’s common with twins. But the fact you have a twin is cool. Identical?
Me: No. I’m the better looking one.
Emery: Oh boy.
Emery: I’m terrified of elephants.
M
e: Wow.
Me: Wanna go to the zoo next weekend?
Emery: I actually love the zoo, but I don’t screw with elephants.
Me: You are an interesting person, Emery.
Emery: Hopefully that’s a good thing.
Me: It is.
She doesn’t text back after that, but the smile from the conversation stays long after we’re done talking. After I hit the gym, I’m home cooking dinner when my brother calls.
“Hey, man,” I talk into the phone as I cut vegetables.
“Hey, can you come pick me up?” The sound of voices yelling and horns blaring rings through the phone.
My hands freeze, and my jaw grinds. “What did you do, Tristan?”
“I didn’t do anything, asshole. My car got towed for who the hell knows why, and I’m stuck downtown at Walmart.”
“Jesus. Lead with that next time.”
“I’m not as fragile as you think I am, Mason. I’m a grown man dealing with hard shit, but I’m doing good. I’m doing my steps and talking to my sponsor. But, hey, it’s nice to know you have such little faith in me.”
“It’s not that.” I sigh in frustration. I’m being a dick. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m trying, okay?”
He sighs too. “I know, I know. It’s the Walmart off Benson. I’ll be out front.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“Thanks, man.”
Hanging up, I grab my keys and coat and hop in my truck to get Tristan. Thirty minutes later, I pull up, and he hops in.
“Fuck, it’s cold as hell,” he says as he blows his warm breath into his palms before rubbing them together.
“Car got towed, huh?”
“Yeah. I’ve been paying my back payments, but the company I’m working with is awful. Bunch of fucking idiots.”
“Says the guy who didn’t pay his car payment for six months.”
“Shut up,” he says through a laugh. “What’s new? How’s the job?”
“The job’s good. Busy. Saved a three-year old the other day. That felt good.”
“It’s always easier when you’re able to find out if they are okay or not.” His arm hangs from the handle above the window as he looks out the frosted glass.
The Best of Me Page 7