With my most embarrassing moment taken care of I have now moved on to more spontaneous, romantic evenings...one particularly with a lad from across the pond.
Boy I am just checking things off my list these days including but not limited to, boy.
British boy at that.
Two days prior to meeting this creature, I had just catered a wedding for a British family where all the groomsmen had on GQ suits with yellow boutineers clutching their hearts like the hand of a woman introducing her new beau at a party. They looked like tiny meadows being kissed by the sun. Daffodils I think?
Of course after my enchantment from all of these suits and their delicate dialects, I was determined to move to London, open a bakery on a cobblestone street and live above said bakery on said cobblestone street with french baguettes as my children and cheese as their toys.
Two days later, I walk into the office on a hot October day (I live in southern CA and global warming isn't messing around) and as I begin to tend to the dishes left over from lunch I hear music. I turn and see a head of thick curly hair where I am greeted by tunes that sound rich, but not perfect, and sometimes the needle skips across a groove but it all lands smoothly into my ears. We both have that moment, the one after you yell someone's name from across the room realizing they're not the person you thought they were? Like we thought we knew one another...and the next three or so hours are spent dancing around actually speaking to one another.
"Hi", I reach out my hand towards this new but old gramophone before me, "I'm Bridgette".
"Oh hey Bridgette, yeah I was just going to introduce myself" his hand welcomes mine.
"What job are you here with?" Post production talk.
"Oh I'm actually here assisting Steve on Lincoln."
"Oh nice. How long are you in town for?" Small talk.
"Two weeks"
"You still recovering from jet-lag I guess, huh?" Not sure what-to-say-but-want-to-keep-talking-talk.
"Indeed I am, yes. It's killer." They say things like that...killer, epic, 'taking a piss' which actually means something completely different then going to the bathroom.
"Have you been to LA before?"
"No, this is my first time actually. I've been to New York but never to Los Angeles"
"Well welcome. Hopefully you'll have some time to explore the city while you're here then".
"I am hoping for that, yes" and I swear I saw a twinkle in his dark iris skies.
Fast forward past: our witty banter in the alleyway behind the office, our deep conversations about family and religion in the edit bay, me crying to an ad he cut and holding hands in the back seat of my car after a Halloween party to: his last night in town.
A few of us in the office stayed after hours and shared wine, told ghost
stories and listened to music. Then cigarettes ensued outside (not by
me mind you).
He and I stayed behind in the edit bay talking.
"How did your dad pass away-can I ask that? Is that, okay?"
"Oh no that's alright...he- it was cancer"
"That sucks...my grandma had cancer. That's where my deep hatred for cigarettes comes from...I'm sorry friend. You okay?"
"Yeah, I mean it was when I was 15 so it's been some time since it happened but..."
"It's still hard, yeah."
"Yeah...I think that's why I'm attracted to such strong women...growing up with only my mum and watching her take care of him through that and even though it's been so long since we lost him she hasn't dated anyone else and we all kind of know she won't you know? It's like, really sweet you know? She is quite tough"
I smile.
"This is really messing with me..."
I force some naivety. "What is?"
"This. You and me."
I look down still feeling his gaze on me, his hand reaches up reassuring his head of it's confusion.
Unsure of what to say, where to reroute the conversation or if I even should, I get up.
"Come on. Let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"Just trust, come on."
We step outside into the arms of fog and she carries my vehicle with us inside to the Pacific.
We get out. He surveys.
"Are you serious?"
I smile.
He laughs.
I laugh.
We run.
Then,
the shoreline.
"I can't believe you brought me here! This whole time I've- I've wanted to come here and you made it happen, we're here! Should we- are we getting in?"
And then it happens. My leggings tell my legs 'it's time' and suddenly I'm splashing into 50 degree water with him behind me. It doesn't last long as I see the word hypothermia in bold red letters flash in my brain (yes I'm still-somehow- thinking).
We sit in the sand, he holds me, I shiver. He kisses the top of head and brushes kite-tails of hair away from my face.
"I find you astronomically beautiful Bridgette". Hey man, there's a first time for everything and that was definitely the first time I've ever heard that phrase. Astronomically...
I burrow further into his arms and we stare at the waves, watching the difficulty each one has in making a decision as whether or not to touch our toes.
He whispers, "I really want to kiss you right now..."
I whisper back, "I really want you to kiss me right now
...but..."
The but keeps him at bay.
But where would it go from here? Romeo and Juliet have already been done. Like I need that kind of romantic drama in my life...
I stand and gather the things I had previously abandoned to the sand. He hands me my vintage wrangler jacket. We walk back to the car. No words, just the ocean waves crashing behind us.
I drop him at his hotel.
"This was lovely Bridgette. And I don't just mean tonight..."
He leans over and kisses me on my cheek and my hand reaches up holding him there for a second longer.
"Night".
And he walks out of my life and into the Best Western.
"Goodnight you".
My head went face-first onto my steering wheel and I contemplated whether or not I should've ran after him, whether or not I should've created some cinematic moment where I say his name, he turns, and bam! Casablanca!
The click of my passenger door pulls me up from the steering wheel and lips on my lips, hands on my hands holding his face, it happens.
(Insert romantic drama here).
