I looked at my article idea list before emailing it to Uncle Mark. Finally, I could breathe once again. Mark had been riding me for ideas about the merged issue and answers to some of Olivia and Dinah's fan mail. I laid my head in my hands just to close my eyes. We were up late last night talking about the movie, Dinah's Milan excursion, Olivia's evening with Link, and my encounters with Mr. Cheesecake. We didn't get to bed until almost two in the morning. I was a little tired and thanked my lucky stars that it was Saturday. I thought about making the girls binge a couple of classic movies.
I heard rustling coming from the direction of our front stairs. Through my fingers, I could see Olivia on her hands and knees, fidgeting in the coat closet. My curiosity made me wonder, "What are you doing?"
"Uh-ha," came her muffled exclamation. I watched my supermodel roommate wiggle her way out of the closet. She dropped the shoes in her hand next to my hiking jacket, which she must have pulled out earlier.
"What are you doing with my hiking boots?" I hadn't seen those shoes in months. I've been under much pressure and haven't found time. Why would I have time now? She tried to distract me with her playful demand that I put them on.
"You've got a date this evening." Of course I did! "You're meeting him at the Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve." That explained the boots.
A hiking date... Hmm, what would I wear? I picked up the shoes and playfully pushed the off-balance blonde into the closet.
"Hey," She grumbled, "You did that on purpose."
"Obviously," I winked.
I took the stairs two by two for obvious reasons: I needed to get ready, plus I was terrified she'd try to retaliate. My clothing options were limited thanks to the activity, so the selection was simple. I whispered a small prayer of thanks for the jean-appropriate date. Slipping into my Wranglers felt like heaven or hugs from an old friend. To match my black hiking boots, I found a plain marble gray tee and a yellow plaid button-up hanging loosely over them. I completed the look with the black down vest that Dinah gave me for Christmas last year and my sunglasses. I threw my hair into a clippie and added a dash of gloss to my lips. It was an outfit that would afford some airflow while moving, but it was still nice enough that Olivia would let me out of the house. I took a picture and sent it to Dinah; she wanted to approve the outfit before I left the house.
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I pulled into the parking lot of the short trail. Parents were bustling around kids checking backpack straps. I heard one mother ask why someone brought a stash of candy. Another father gave his crew some last-minute instructions, "Stay within eyesight of me at all times. The popcorn is for the ducks at the top of the trail, NOT the squirrels… Hayden!" I couldn't help but smile at the silliness of these scenes. It was wonderful to see families enjoying the last few days of summer. I gave myself one last check in my side-view mirror before venturing towards the poor soul who got suckered into a date with me.
This was the last one of Mom's setups. Mom vetted this date by asking some of her nurses if they had single sons or brothers. One stepped up and offered her brother. She doesn't like her brother. So here I am looking for… William Joseph at the beginning of my favorite trail.
They described him as a nerd with a camera. How do you look for that? Was I looking for someone with "kick me" on their back and an expensive camera in his hand? I am probably looking for a Jimmy Olsen type. As luck would have it, as I reached the trailhead, there was a man with my name on a cardboard panel. I felt my smile grow as I moved closer to him. He was not what I expected. I knew he'd be decent-looking; I've seen his sister. But what stood in front of me wasn't what I imagined at all.
I had a few seconds to take in the sturdy figure of my date. He stood about half a foot taller than me, at six feet or somewhere close to that. He had a backpack slung over his right shoulder. He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously, searching the passing hikers for any sign of his date. I tilted my head and smiled widely as I closed the space between us.
"Clever idea," I pointed to the sign. "I should've thought of something like that."
"Does this mean you are Miss McAlister?" He asked to clarify.
"Oh, please call me Grace," I playfully corrected. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Joseph."
"William," he smiled. I liked his smile; it defined his high cheekbones. His eyes were a swirling ocean blue, and his teeth sparkled like a Disney Prince.
"It is nice to meet you, William." I offered my hand to shake, and he happily accepted. "So, what is the plan for our date?"
"I guess you will have to wait and see," He motioned for me to start walking, so I followed diligently. William offered his arm as we headed up the worn-out path. For the first couple of minutes, we were enveloped in silence. The crisp autumn breeze whipped through my ponytail. The birds were flitting from tree to tree. I've walked this path many times by myself, mostly when I've had a bad day and just needed to breathe.
My companion cleared his throat, "So I know a little about you, but mostly that you are single and desperate."
"Did my mother say that?!?" I stopped abruptly. "Knowing my mother, that's exactly what she said," I growled.
"I thought it was something my sister added, but it intrigued me."
"You've got to be kidding me. Why?" I felt my eyebrow arch in question.
"I've never seen a 'desperate' woman; I wanted to witness one." His smile disarmed me. He met my eyes with earnest kindness. I liked the blue, icy edge of his searching pupils.
"Well, you are looking at her," I shrugged. "Am I everything you thought I'd be?"
"I was expecting crazier eyes, wider and almost bloodshot." He squinted his eyes, narrowing his field of examination. "Expected more makeup, something less suited to our activity."
I crossed my arms and suggested, "So you were expecting a prostitute."
"Yeah!" he immediately heard himself and scrambled to recover. I watched him trip over himself as he tried to apologize. After a minute of letting him sweat, I smiled. "I made a fool of myself, didn't I?" His head dropped in shame. I felt a slight pang of guilt for putting him through that.
"It's okay," I giggled. "Honestly, I probably would've expected a lady like that too." We walked another couple of steps before I ventured to ask, "What were you told about me?"
"Oh," he began, "Well, I know you work for a fashion magazine, and you wanted to be more outdoorsy but have difficulty making time for it."
"Both are very true," I confirmed.
"What did you hear about me?"
"Honestly, not a lot. Apparently, my mother and roommates settled on not telling me anything about my dates, just a name." I huffed for emphasis.
"Well, that seems ridiculous," He questions.
"I know, right?"
"Well, what do you want to know?"
"My first question is, what made you agree to this date?"
After he thought for a minute, we walked a little further in silence. "I don't make friends easily," he finally explained. I am a youth pastor. I pour my soul into the job, and in my off time, I am a scoutmaster. I don't have a private life."
Well, now I understand why he is more ripped than I imagined. "I get that." I related. "I consider myself a workaholic, but I am not a proper one."
"What do you mean?"
"I work a lot and love my office, but I can always find time for a movie or two."
Our conversation was easy and free-flowing after that. He told me stories of kids in his group, and I told him stories of the stupidity that my roommates and I got into. My usual four-mile hike was a breeze; I didn't count my steps, and I didn't need to catch my breath. I just laughed and talked. At the end of the trailhead, we found a place to sit and enjoy the nature around us.
"Did they tell you that I love this spot?"
"I was told that you enjoyed the outdoors, but it is not your go-to choice of activities. This just seemed to be a good compromise." He shrugged off his backpack and pulled it between us. "I was told not to bring Chocolate Chip cookies under any circumstances."
"They've got to be kidding me," I growled.
"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't listen," he pulled out a large bag of bakery-level chocolate chip cookies.
"Oh, you know how to a girl's heart," I smiled brightly. "Gimme, gimme, gimme!"
We laughed at my childish antics, but he kept the bag just out of reach. Finally, I gave up and pouted, waiting impatiently for him to relinquish the doughy treats. The puppy dog eye did the trick, and with a defeated growl, he tossed them into my lap. Not giving him a chance to change his mind, I grabbed a couple and took a large bite.
"You hungry?"
I blushed at his question but only shook my head. After swallowing the bite, I explained, "I just don't get to enjoy good chocolate chip cookies very often. These are delicious."
"I wish I could take the compliment, but I bought them from the new bakery that just opened up near my suburb."
"If you were told not to bring chocolate chip cookies, then why did you?"
"The request seemed oddly specific, so I wasn't going to because I thought maybe it was an allergy."
"What changed your mind?"
He smirked, "Two of my students are avid readers of yours, and when they found out you were my date –"
"They grilled you pretty hard, huh?"
"Oh, these two have the good cop/bad cop routine down," he feigned a slight fear before continuing. Anyway, they insisted that I bring you cookies. Apparently, you wrote a whole article about their benefits."
"Oh yes, my favorite article."
"How did you get away with that?"
"Uncle Mark lost a bet, and my award was the privilege to do whatever I wanted with the center-spread. In the middle of our swimsuit edition –"
"Oh no."
"Oh yes," I giggled with an evil grin.
Once again, our conversation flowed until we found ourselves back in an almost empty parking lot, with the sun quickly setting behind us.
"I had a wonderful time, Grace."
"So did I, William."
He handed me his card, and I gave him mine. "If you ever need a hiking friend, call me."
I shifted to my toes and kissed his cheek, "I hope we meet again."
"Um…" he stopped me. "Would you… would you be interested in speaking at my youth group?"
"Oh?" The request blindsided me.
"I get it if you are not available--"
"What night? And what would you like me to talk about?"
"I've been doing a series on finding God in the workplace. I would like to do it interview-style and ask questions about blending the fashion industry and your faith."
"I love the idea. What night?"
"This Wednesday?"
"I'm pretty sure I can make that work. Do you want just me?" He looked confused. "I mean, I can bring in our in-house model and designer. They are also Godly women in the industry."
"Would they be interested?"
"I think it is a topic we should be talking about," I smiled. "Yes, they would be on board."
"I will plan for Wednesday night then." He bounded back to his car as I stood watching him go.
Dear Lord, I will consider it a success if nothing comes from this date except encouraged kids.