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I can’t fight the excitement I feel as I head towards Ryan’s condo. We have plans for dinner at six, but I just can’t wait to see him. Instead of being nervous and scared of my revelation, I’m embracing it. For the first time since my mess of a relationship with Gavin ended, I’ve allowed myself to feel something beautiful, something great.
Pulling into his half of the driveway at barely five-thirty, I get out and run to his door. After my insistent knocking goes unanswered, I finally stop and look around. Ryan’s truck isn’t in his driveway. Usually when he gets home, he leaves his garage door open while he helps Mrs. Hanson with any yard chores. Glancing back around front, I realize the door is still closed.
I am thirty minutes early, but I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed that I won’t be able to share my news with him right away. Making my way around back, I decide to sit at the patio and enjoy a little bit of the evening July warmth. When I step around the side of the house, I’m greeted by the smiling face of Mrs. Hanson.
“Good evening, child. I haven’t seen Ryan yet today,” she says as she walks towards me.
“I’m a bit early for dinner. I hope you don’t mind me coming back here and hanging out,” I tell her as I follow her towards Ryan’s stairs.
“It’s not entirely my backyard, sweetie. Ryan will be happy to see you here with he arrives home,” she says. The warm smile she gives me causes my lips to mirror hers. “You don’t mind if I keep you company for a bit, do you?”
“Of course not. Do you want something to drink? Lemonade?” I ask, then instantly realizing that I don’t have access to Ryan’s house. The doors are locked, and until he comes home, I don’t have any of the lemonade I just offered.
“Actually, I have a pitcher of sweet tea that just finished brewing on the counter. Would you mind going over to my place and grabbing it for us?” Mrs. Hanson offers.
“Of course,” I respond, standing up and walking towards her door.
“Grab the tray of cookies beside it, as well,” she hollers just as I reach the back door.
Mrs. Hanson’s condo is just as I’d picture it. Floral prints and decorative knick-knacks as far as the eye can see, and it smells like home. Warm cinnamon and baked bread fills the air. And right where she said it would be, a pitcher of cool tea sits beside a small tray of homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. Stuffing two glasses beneath my arm and grabbing the other items, I head back outside to where I left Ryan’s neighbor.
“Oh, bless you, child,” she says as I deposit the pitcher and tray on the tabletop. Mrs. Hanson holds the two glasses so that I can pour the fresh tea. “I hope you like a hint of raspberry. My grandma used to always add fresh mint leaves or raspberries to her tea when she brewed it.”
“I’ve never had it this way,” I say before taking a sip. The tartness of the tea, mixed with the sweet and fruitiness of the raspberries is delicious and incites my taste buds.
“Good, right?” she asks, her kind, warm eyes sparkling.
“I think your grandma was on to something,” I confirm.
“This is her recipe, too,” she says, offering me the tray of cookies.
It’s still warm as I take a bite, the cinnamon and sugar dissolving on my tongue. “Oh my God,” I groan moments before stuffing the rest of the cookie in my mouth in a very unladylike fashion. “It’s a good thing I don’t live next to you, Mrs. Hanson. I’d weigh over three hundred pounds.”
Besides a brief chuckle, we’re both quiet for several minutes. The breeze is starting to cool as the sun begins to descend. Birds chirp and the air is fragrant with the scent of Mrs. Hanson’s flowers. It’s a perfect little spot to enjoy the evening. Maybe when Ryan gets home from work we can sit outside for a bit.
I smile a bit to myself at the thought of Ryan and me enjoying this patio more often, maybe even every night. That one little thought sparks a thousand more just like it. The two of us sharing a place of our own. Us sitting on a deck similar to this one as we watch a child run and play in the yard. Those thoughts consume me, but don’t scare me. Instead, they ground me.
“Have you told him?” Mrs. Hanson asks, pulling me away from my thoughts of Ryan.
“Told him what?” I ask curiously.
“That you’re in love with him,” she states matter-of-factly.
“Oh, I’m…well, it’s not really…” I start, but then stop. “No.”
Her smile is the same knowing smile my grandma gives me often. “You should. I bet he’d love to hear you say it.”
“You think?” I ask both excited and inquisitively.
“I know, child. Tell him,” she says, glancing down at the watch adorning her dainty wrist. “I’m sure Ryan will be along any moment. I’m going to slip inside. It’s almost time for Wheel of Fortune,” she says.
“Take the tea and cookies inside with you when he gets home,” she adds while turning and walking to her door.
“Thank you,” I holler before she slips inside.
Instead of a reply, she gives me a knowing nod and steps through the door.
I’m lost in thought, running through my afternoon one more time when I realize it’s surely been a while and Ryan still isn’t home. Grabbing my cell phone, I confirm my suspicions and realize it’s already quarter til seven. No messages and no missed calls. A sliver of worry slips down my back, causing goose bumps to pepper my arms.
