“Okay, kids,” the woman I presumed was the mother started. “Let’s go. All the way to the end of the hall.”
Before I had the chance to say anything else, they took off running. And the next thing I knew, I saw popcorn flying in the air. One of the children had collided with the girl I’d been thinking about all day.
My eyes quickly shifted to the usher who was standing next to me checking the tickets, and I said, “I’ll go handle that if you want to stay here.”
She looked down the hall, back at me, and returned, “It’s all yours.”
By the time I made it to where the collision had occurred, the parents were still standing there, but the children were all still running toward the end of the hall.
“I’m so sorry,” the father lamented. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she answered.
“Are you sure?” the mother pressed.
Instead of speaking, she nodded.
“Honey, why don’t you go ahead with the kids?” the father suggested. “I’ll help clean this up.”
That’s when I stepped in. “It’s okay, sir,” I interrupted. I was standing there with the broom and dustpan. It wasn’t uncommon to have a popcorn spill; though, I always found it rather annoying. For the first time, I didn’t mind that the buttered snack was strewn about the floor. “You should go ahead with your family. I’ll get it taken care of.”
“Can we at least pay for a new popcorn?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’ll get her a new one.”
At that, the father strode off to wrangle his children, and my eyes went to the girl. Her face was bright red, and I knew she was feeling embarrassed.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I assured her as I started sweeping the popcorn into a pile.
“That kid came out of nowhere,” she replied.
“Are you okay? You weren’t hurt, were you?” I questioned her.
She shook her head. “No.”
I worked quickly to get the popcorn all cleaned up. Then I offered, “If you want to go into the theater to grab a seat, I can bring the popcorn to you. Or you can follow me back to the concession stand.”
There was a bit of a nervous edge to her voice when she replied, “I’ll follow you.”
I gave her a nod, and the two of us started walking back down the hall.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
She hesitated briefly before she answered, “Scarlet. Scarlet Morgan.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Scarlet. I’m Ryker Holt,” I returned as I glanced over at her again.
Scarlet smiled at me again before looking away.
There was no mistaking just how shy she was in the few minutes of interaction I had with her. I found it to be an endearing quality.
We came to a stop at the side of the concession stand. I ended up going behind the counter to wash my hands. Then I confirmed, “Just a small buttered popcorn?”
Scarlet nodded. “Yes, please.”
After I got the popcorn for her, I asked, “Are your friends already in the theater?”
Shaking her head, she answered, “No.”
“Are they meeting you here?”
“No. I’m here alone,” she shared.
It was a Friday night. Even though our encounter was brief, all of my initial thoughts about the kind of girl Scarlet would be were being blasted to smithereens. I had expected someone uptight with a boatload of friends.
“Right,” I returned. Holding the popcorn out to her, I said, “Enjoy the movie.”
“Thank you.”
With that, Scarlet took off toward the theater where the movie she was seeing was playing. And roughly an hour and forty-five minutes later, I saw her as she walked back down the hall toward the main entrance. She didn’t see me watching, but I was. The look on her face told me she had her head in the clouds. This was clearly the effect of the romantic comedy she’d just watched.
As she walked away and out the front door, I found I couldn’t wait until next week. I was hoping I’d see her again when we were back at her house cleaning the pool and mowing the lawn.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said as I got out of the car.
It was a week after I’d first seen and met Scarlet, and my dad had just pulled up outside work. His first job wasn’t for another half hour, so he had time to get me to work this morning.
“No problem, kid. Have a good day, Ryker,” he urged.
“Thanks. You too.”
While I never really looked at work as a means to an end, I found myself feeling particularly excited about today. Matt and I were going to be heading back to the Morgan residence again.
And because I was looking forward to the possibility of seeing Scarlet again, I ended up being extra productive at our first two homes that morning. Just like we’d done the prior week, Matt and I got to Scarlet’s house and took care of the pool. And much like had happened the first time we were there, Matt got on the phone with his girlfriend during our break.
Given where Matt had parked the work truck, I had a pretty clear line of vision to the pool. Almost like clockwork, I saw Scarlet walk out to the pool deck with a book in her hand. She had been wearing a sundress when she first walked out but quickly pulled it over her head. Then she sat down in one of the lounge chairs in her bikini.
I didn’t even try to keep my eyes off her.
I thought she was perfect. Stunning.
Barely taking enough time to swallow my food, I hurried to unload the mower and get back to work. I wanted to get Scarlet to notice me, so I came up with a plan. After bringing the mower closer to the edge of the pool deck, I pretended there was a problem with it and turned it off. Then I began faking an inspection of it.
Much to my surprise, relief, and sheer joy, I heard that angelic voice only a few moments later.
“Ryker?”
She remembered my name.
I looked up from the mower, saw her beautiful face and body up close, and did my best to seem surprised. “Scarlet?”
She bit her lip before she replied, “You remembered my name.”
“Of course. You remembered mine, too.”
“So, you work two jobs?” she asked.
I nodded.
Dipping her chin in acknowledgment, she wondered, “Is everything okay with the mower?”
“What?”
Pointing at the lawnmower, she repeated, “Is everything okay? Is it broken?”
Damn. I’d forgotten what I was doing.
“Oh, yeah. I think it’s fine. I heard something funny and just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything caught in it,” I explained, hoping she couldn’t see right through my lie. “But it’s all clear.”
“That’s good.”
“Sorry if I disturbed you,” I lamented.
Shaking her head, she insisted, “No, it’s okay. It’s actually nice to talk to someone. Who would have thought I’d be spending my birthday alone?”
The minute the words were out of her mouth, two things happened. First, Scarlet slapped her hand over her mouth and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
But the second thing that happened was the most unexpected. I found the courage to respond in a way I would never have imagined. “There’s no need to apologize,” I insisted. “Besides, who would have thought I’d be spending my birthday working?”