Scattered Landmines

seventeen

I haven't laid eyes on Theo since he drove me home after our date on Saturday night, but he has kept in touch by sending me thoughtful texts since then. To my surprise, he sent a message that very night and the next morning as I wasn't expecting to hear from him so soon after our date. When I was in my teens, generally, the young men I dated would give it a few days before they would make contact. Maybe it's because they want to be perceived as being too busy and felt that by being elusive is the key into a woman's pants. Jake and I had this conversation shortly after we began dating. He waited three weeks to contact me after our first date. Shockingly, he said that he didn't want to come off as desperate by reaching out too soon. What can I say, that's coming from an idiot though, for fuck's sake.

Sunday, I spent shopping with the kids, and Nancy tagged along as well. My dad would rather eat shards of glass than to have joined us, especially if it means missing one of his precious football games. Cami and Brooks wanted to buy their dad Christmas presents, and I insisted on getting his girlfriend something as well. Despite the onslaught of unwanted memories, if they are all opening presents together, and the kids picked out a gift for Jake, I thought it only kind to provide her with something as well. I am trying to send a message to the kids to rise above with compassion and generosity in all aspects of life, especially the most upsetting ones. Most of the time, it's easier said than done, but in the essence of the holiday spirit, I can put my dwindling hostility towards Brianna aside and offer her kindness.

. . . . . . .

Monday rolls around too fast, and although I am running behind, I still make time to drop into my favorite coffee establishment after I walk Brooks to school. Mr. Murphy had said to be at his house slightly before nine, and thankfully I still have time to spare on purchasing a hot cup of joe.

"Morning, Ro," Ben greets me with a bright, enthusiastic smile, still looking as gorgeous as he always does. "I remember the first time you came in here, and you asked for an almond milk latte," he pauses, reaching underneath the counter to retrieve something. "Guess what? Since you have become a regular here, I ordered some of that American nut milk for you," Ben holds up a carton of Almond milk.

"You didn't?" I'm taken aback that he ordered it just for me.

"I did. Couldn't conform my favorite American to our primitive ways," he vocalizes loudly over the heavy sound of the milk frother, which has a few customers in line rubbernecked in my direction.

"Aw- Ben, you struck me right here," I flippantly put my hand over my heart.

"How can I strike your heart when you don't have one?" Ben laughs but quickly rebuts, "I'm only having good fun with you. Here you go, one Favorite American," he reaches over the counter to hand me my caffeine fix.

"Favorite American?"

"That's what I'm naming this drink. You should feel honored. I don't name drinks after just anyone," Ben winks, turning up the corners of his mouth into a mirthful beam.

"Wow, I have never had a drink named in my honor, but why not just name it the Ro or Rosalie?" I ask, more curious than confused.

Ben waltzes from around the counter and drapes his arm over my shoulder, walking me to a table in the corner.

"Wait, I didn't pay," I render, trying to turn our bodies back to the counter.

"It's on me. You're welcome," Ben chirps, pulling out a chair for me and one for him then taking a seat.

"This isn't going to be an everyday thing, ok. I get coffee at least five days a week, and it adds up. I am going to whined up extremely indebted to you, owing you a kidney or my third born." He can't expect me to let him treat me to a free drink every day, but I am grateful for his generosity.