“
Let’s talk about something else.”
“
Sure,” he says.
There is a short pause that threatens to turn into a lengthy silence. She does not mind the silence. She can sit quietly for hours. Her husband never got that. He felt like he had to fill every quiet moment with small talk, or with the television, or with something. But she has always liked to sit quietly. She is not uncomfortable with this silence.
“
Here’s your coffee. And, I hope you feel like I do, and like my loyal customers do, that it’s the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.”
She sips.
“
It’s not too hot,” she says. “Everyone always serves their coffee too hot,” she says. “Which I don’t understand. If I’m in your coffee shop, and I am sitting at your counter, then I want to be able to drink my coffee in a reasonable amount of time without burning my tongue. So, nice job on the temperature.”
“
Thanks,” he says.
He waits for more. For her to say it is good or to say it is bad or to say anything. But she doesn’t say anything. She finishes the coffee and slides the cup across the counter.
“
That’s your mug,” he says.
“
You can clean it,” she says.
“
Sure,” he answers.
“
Thanks,” she says.
“
You’re welcome,” he answers.
She stands and smoothly walks the few steps from counter to door.
He takes the cup and places it into the washing sink.
“
See you tomorrow?” she asks.
“
Sure,” he answers.
“
Seven thirty? On the beach? Jogging?”
“
See you,” he says.
She waves over her shoulder.
Shannon
“
So?” Cara asks.
“
So?” Shannon answers.
Cara looks over her glasses at her younger sister, narrows her eyes, and asks the question again.
“
So how was it?”
“
It was a good cup of coffee,” Shannon answers.
“
And?” Cara asks.
“
And?” Shannon answers.
Cara looks over her glasses again.
“
And am I going to have to drag this out of you line by line?” Cara asks.
“
No. I’m still processing it. Let’s go for a walk on the beach and talk about it,” Shannon says.
“
K,” Cara says.
“
He cleans up nice,” Shannon says.
“
Oh?” Cara prods.
“
Yeah. Pressed khakis and a nice polo. But I had a feeling he hadn’t been dressed up in a while.”
“
Oh?”
“
Yeah. But that’s okay. He runs a coffee shop, so I imagine it’s blue jeans and t-shirts most of the year. But even all cleaned up he seemed pretty comfortable in his shop.”
“
Does he work there or does he own it?” Cara asks.
“
Does it matter?” Shannon asks.
“
Not really, since you’ll probably never see him again anyway.”
Shannon keeps walking.
“
I mean you’re not going to see him again or anything are you?” Cara asks.
Shannon keeps walking.
“
So you’re going to see him again. When?”
“
Tomorrow morning, at seven thirty, we’re going to go jogging on the beach.”
“
That’s a good second date. It has a defined beginning and end,” Cara says.
“
What are you talking about?” Shannon asks.
“
I mean he’ll either be on time or he won’t, so you’ll know right away whether he’s going to stand you up. And you’ll probably run down to the pier and back, so he’s got like twenty minutes to make an impression. And then you get back here and you can decide whether to run another mile or to ditch him. And if you run another mile, then he’s a mile from the house when you decide to turn around, so he won’t be standing around waiting for you to invite him in or anything.”
“
You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Shannon says.
“
Not really. Just thinking for you.”
“
I can think this through on my own,” Shannon says.
“
I know you can. I’m just mentally going through the options, different ways you can play it,” Cara says.
“
I’m not playing anything. We’re going jogging. And then if he’s not a complete jerk I might go get another cup of coffee tomorrow morning. That’s it. We’re all heading back to Ohio in a few days. Remember?”
“
Yes I remember. I just hope you do,” Cara says.
Joe
“
How was coffee?” his sister asks.
“
Nice. She’s very smart,” he answers.
“
You can tell from one cup of coffee that she’s smart?”
“
Yes. It’s in the way she speaks. She’s educated, and thinks about what she’s going to say. There’s not a lot of surface there, there’s a lot of thought.”
“
You got all that from one cup of coffee?”
“
Yes I did,” Joe answers.
“
So now what?” his sister asks.
“
Why does there always have to be a ‘so now what’ with you?”
“
Because I’ve been your sister for forty nine years, I’ve been your sister through Colleen, and all the girls before Colleen, and I know you. So once again, returning to the question on the floor, now what?” she asks.
“
We’re going to go jogging tomorrow morning. I’m going to meet her on the beach side of her house and we’ll go jogging.”
“
Did she tell you which house she’s renting?”
“
She’s not a renter.”
“
She lives here?”
“
Two months a year from what I can gather. She owns the big house just down the beach from the green-roofed house where they film One Tree Hill.”
“
She owns that?”
“
That’s what she said.”
“
And you believed her?”
“
Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
“
Well it’s easy enough to check out,” his sister says.
“
What? Now that she owns a house on the beach she’s worth checking out? Is that it?” Joe asks.
“
Well isn’t she?”
“
I don’t like how this is going. I met someone who likes the beach and who likes coffee. We’ve talked for maybe a half an hour and we’re going to go jogging tomorrow. That’s it.”
“
Oh really? Are you sure that’s it?”
“
No I’m not sure. But I’m not going to talk about this anymore with you today. You always want to talk things to death. I’m a guy. We don’t talk things to death like you women do.”
“
That’s right. You’re a guy. You don’t talk at all.”
“
We talk with the guys,” he says.
“
In between beer belches, fried food, and farts,” she says.
“
Exactly.”
“
Well jogging is a good first date,” his sister says.
“
Second date. And why do you think so?” Joe asks.
“
Because there’s no expectation of intimacy and after you run a few miles you’re so sweaty that there’s no possibility of intimacy.”
“
And that makes a good second date?” Joe asks.
“
Yes. No awkward moment in the car or at the front door wondering whether there’s going to be a kiss or a hug or an invitation for a ‘night cap’ or any of that. You meet up, you jog, you get sweaty, and then if you still like her you either make a plan to go jogging again or get another cup of coffee or you don’t. Very clean.”
“
Very clean? After being all sweaty? What if she’s hot for my bod and we’re both all sweaty and she suggests we get a shower?”
“
You said she was smart. So, not a chance,” his sister says.
Shannon
The air is warm but not yet hot. The sun is glinting off gentle multi-faceted swells. The beach has been swept clean by another cleansing tide.
It’s early. I’m surprised but pleased at how few people get out on the beach this early. Even in the absolute middle of the tourist season it is still quiet this early. There are a few elderly women collecting shells, a few joggers, a few walkers, and that’s about it. Since my house sits by itself, all these people are just passing by. So even when the tourists are here my little piece of beach has moments in the morning and evening when it is all mine.
I like having the girls here, and my family, but I like having the beach all to myself too.
So what am I doing out here in my running clothes waiting for a man? For Joe. I like my time on the beach to myself. I like walking with my sister, and watching the girls play, but I like having the beach to myself as well. Why have I invited someone into my privacy?
He probably won’t show, so I will have the beach to myself anyway. I hope he won’t mind that I’m a much better runner than he is. I’ve seen him jogging, sometimes even shuffling, and limping. I am a runner, always have been. I ran as a kid, through junior high, went to state in high school, got four NCAA varsity letters, and one Olympic tryout. I still run, though not so much as I used to. I walk more now. But I still run. Sometimes I’m out walking and my body just says ‘run’. So I run. I hope he doesn’t mind.
Joe
I can see her waiting up ahead. Why did my knees have to pick this morning to hurt? She’s younger than me. I can tell that just from looking at her. And she’s fit. I can tell that too from having seen her in her bathing suit, and in her sundress. I wonder if she’s a runner? Or maybe yoga? She’s really lean. I think I might get my ass handed to me this morning if she’s a runner. Won’t be the first time, won’t be the last. I just hope I don’t try to gut it out and end up hurting myself.
Will she slow down if I ask her to slow down? Will she just go ahead and laugh at me? I’m slow, and my knees hurt sometimes, and this morning is sometimes. I should be gently peddling my bike, not running.
Will she be warmed up when I get there? Will she need to warm up? Will she match my pace and carry on a conversation? Why am I doing this? Oh yeah, because she’s interesting, and because she called me cheeky. A cheeky man asks a younger woman to go on a running date early in the morning on the beach and she says yes and now here he is dragging his nearly fifty year old ass and achy knees up the beach.
Shannon and Joe
“
Good morning,” he says.
“
Morning,” she answers.
She starts jogging alongside him. Sees that this morning he is limping.
“
Is your knee bothering you?” she asks.
“
How can you tell?”
“
Because you’re limping a little this morning, like Monday.”
“
You saw me limping on Monday?”
“
Yes. You looked pretty smooth on Tuesday and Wednesday, but Monday and today you have a little limp. Is it your knee?”
“
Both knees. How can you tell?”
“
I’ve watched a lot of runners, and seen a lot of running injuries,” Shannon says.
“
Are you a doctor? Like a sports medicine doctor or something?”
“
No. I’m a geologist.”
“
So why do you know so much about runners? And running injuries?”
“
I’ve been a runner my whole life. Was pretty good once upon a time.”
Her voice drifts away. She rarely ran when she was married. He wasn’t a runner. Didn’t understand why she wanted or needed to go running. He was always trying to ‘get in shape’ and didn’t understand why someone so thin and fit had to do any exercise. Eventually her only runs were at noon at work, where she didn’t have to explain to anyone why she wanted to go running.
They run quietly for a hundred yards.
“
You saw me every day this week?”
“
And last, all but one.”
“
You’re here for two weeks? Why didn’t you say hi?” he asks.
“
You looked like you were out running. I didn’t want to interrupt your private time in the morning. It’s too pretty and quiet here in the mornings for interruptions.”
“
Thanks,” he says.