M. Suzanne Terry

An ode to and appreciation of things not possible right now

“You changed seats.”

It takes a minute to realize you’re talking to me. I peel my eyes from the page and give you a once-over that I don’t intend to give.

You seem to enjoy it, but I blush anyway, caught in an unguarded reaction. I’m usually so careful. This is disconcerting.

I like and also do not like it.

You shift your weight, and I remember that it’s my turn to say things. But I can’t think of anything but how beautiful your lips are, and that seems non sequitur. Even I know that.

So I stick with, “What?”

You grin. It probably reaches your eyes, but I don’t have the courage to make my gaze go there yet. So I just have to trust that it does.

Trust is not an easy feat.

You pull up a chair and sit down, as if we planned to meet here. As if you understand that, of course, you’re welcome. I think that takes an enormous level of confidence.

I like and also envy that.

“You usually sit closer to the window.” You caress the rim of your cup with your beautiful lips and seduce the coffee out of it. I should look away, but I can’t seem to do so and also do not want to.

“The seat I like was taken when I got here, and I feel bad moving now.”

Your lips purse into a slight frown. Confusion? Question? Maybe feeling bad requires more explanation?

I continue, just in case. “That’s one more table that has to be wiped down. If I use both.” I shrug in what I hope is a nonchalant way, but I somehow doubt it comes across that way. I can’t often pull off nonchalance. “This one is fine. For today.”

I venture a glance at your eyes, but they’re so attentive, so intense. And blue. So blue.

I like that, but it’s a lot, and I have so many feelings, so I look down at my scone, which is also lovely but in a fully manageable way.

“Is it okay that I’m sitting here?”

It occurs to me that I might not seem like I want you here. Like this is an intrusion. Like I didn’t purposely choose this seat closer to where you usually sit when you come in, even though the seat by the window offers a superior view and was actually completely open when I arrived.

“Yes! Please stay!” Too much? Too exuberant? I force myself to meet your eyes.You’re smiling, so I decide to try a little bravery. “I like it.” Your smile deepens and your dimples show.

Wow. The effects of bravery are awesome. I think I’ll try some more.

“You. I like you.”

My eyes can’t hold your gaze any longer, and I’m afraid as soon as it leaves my lips that it’s too much after all. I’m usually so guarded. Right up the point when I’m really not. And that’s the point things usually fall apart.

I feel my face grow hot again. I can’t look up, but this time, that’s a good thing, because looking at the table gives me an excellent view of your hand gently touching mine.

“Good,” you reply. “I like you back.”

I look up just in time to see your lips stretch into a smile again.