By the time she takes a few steps, my brain kicks in, and my body goes double time to catch up with her. My long strides eat up the distance between us, and just before she makes it to the door, I reach out to open it and hold it open for her.
“Thanks,” is whispered as she walks in and waits by the sign to be seated.
I barely step up beside her when a waiter greets us. “Welcome. Would you like a table inside, under the patio, or near the bar?”
Faye glances my way, and I nod, suggesting she make our choice, as I have no preference.
“The patio is fine.”
On the way to our table, we learn about tonight’s specials, as well as some of the newest brews they’ve acquired. He also informs us that a live band will start soon and advises us to sit adjacent to one another if we want a better view of the stage.
Sitting next to Faye is no hardship, that’s for sure.
I pull out the chair with the most direct view of the stage and motion for her to take a seat. The scent of vanilla, lavender, and something uniquely her washes over me, and memories from our summers here in Seaside surface.
As soon as we’re both seated, the waiter slides a menu toward Faye, but she shakes him off. “Oh, I don’t need one, I already know what I want, and this guy”—she points at me with a wicked gleam—“promised me a French dip. Can I get a pint of Puckering Pear, as well?”
“What’s a puckering pear?” spews out of my mouth before either of them says more.
Rolling those beautiful blues my way, she smirks indignantly. “Only one of the best microbrews.”
“It’s distributed from Bedknobs and Brews in Colorado,” the waiter eagerly adds. “It’s popular this time of year.”
Always down for something new, I shrug. “I’ll take a pint of that, as well as a French dip.”
“Excellent choice. I’ll put your order in and get it out to you as soon as I can.”
The moment he walks away, she turns to me and sighs heavily. “Of all the gin joints in all the world, how did you…Mark Lancaster, become my neighbor?”
“I should ask you the same thing.” I laugh.
Casablanca was always one of her favorite movies. She was a fan of the classics. I can’t imagine that ever changing.
“Seriously, Lancaster… How did you end up in Seaside? You were hell-bent on leaving town. I can’t for the life of me fathom you settling here.”
“It’s not that unfathomable,” I deadpan and hold her gaze.
A perfectly sculpted brow arches my way. “Are you always this evasive?”
Only when I know it gets you riled up.
When she doesn’t back down from the staring contest I’ve perpetuated, I eventually give in with a shrug. “It’s simple. My kids.”
Her brows knit together as she studies me further. “What do you mean?”
“Where they go, I go. Now that I’m retired, and Uncle Sam isn’t dictating where I live, I’m determined to spend as much time with my girls and their growing families as possible.”
From the way her eyes widen, she obviously didn’t expect this response.
“Families? More than one of your kids lives here?”
A low laugh escapes as I think about my daughters and the chaos their families bring. “All four of them, along with their husbands and gaggle of kids.”
“Wow…” Faye whispers. “The last time I visited your mom, she told me a story about teaching your youngest to drive.” Her eyes go wide as saucers as she says, “Are you telling me she’s already married?”
I can’t help the low laugh that escapes. Faye’s shocked expression is adorable.
“Yep.” I nod proudly. “Lizzy’s not only married but has three kids.”
