Once we’re buckled, she says, “Thanks again, Jack, for saving me from the bouquet toss. That’s honestly the most dreaded part of going to any wedding for me.”
“Hey, glad I could help. I wonder where that tradition even started? It is a little odd when you think about it. Anyway, I’d far rather you hide out on a secret balcony with me than stand around mauling other women for a floral arrangement.” Did I just say that? My mutinous tongue has abandoned ship. I can’t trust what will come out of my mouth in front of this woman. Luckily, Katrina just fills the car with her giggle in response. Oh, that laugh. I could listen to it forever.
As we drive, I share the ideas I have for our day. I want to make sure she’s up for all of it and I’ll let her give input if she wants to change anything. Even though I’m all about providing and leading in a relationship, I’m not a caveman. A woman like Katrina is used to planning international trips and running her own life. I want her ideas.
“So, I planned to see the stairs. Then I thought we could grab lunch at Shutters on the beach. It’s a little trendy and upscale restaurant inside a hotel, but at lunch it’s not too pretentious, so it should be a great place to get some food. Have you been there?”
“No, I’ve always thought of going, but never have. I’m in and out of L.A. so much. I don’t get to do all I’d like when I’m home here.”
“Well, the views of the ocean from the dining room can’t be beat. After lunch, I thought we could rent some bikes and head to Venice Beach for some people watching, find a spot to sit for a while and rest, even put our toes in the water if you want. For supper I thought we would just do something casual. You had mentioned trying pizza everywhere you go, so I thought we’d get slices at Bruno’s on Ocean Avenue and then we could head out on the pier at sunset to ride the Ferris wheel. It’s an unwritten rule somewhere. If you go to Santa Monica, you need to ride the Ferris wheel.” When I finish talking, I’m sure I over-planned a carefully crafted itinerary. She’s going to want to jump out of my car before this day even gets started.
Kat’s sitting quietly. I glance over at her. “Too much?” I ask, “Because we don’t have to do all that. You can throw in ideas of your own. I just wanted to make the day special. I tend to overthink things sometimes.”
“No. It’s perfect. I’m not really used to a guy putting that much thought into what we would do for a day. It sounds just right. Really.”
She’s not used to guys putting thought into what they do with her? That doesn’t sound right. A woman like Katrina could inspire painters to leave their commissions to spend months trying to capture the nuances of her expressions. She feels like light, and joy, and depth all in one. What man wouldn’t put a little effort into planning a day with her? Well, one thing’s for sure. My nerves about getting this right just dissipated a little. I’m finding myself truly content as I look forward to our day.
I park near the stairs and jog around to let Katrina out of the car. It’s funny that these stairs are such a big deal, honestly. There are two sets. One is wooden and older, and the other concrete. They have a pretty steep incline with around one-hundred-and-seventy steps each.
All of a sudden, she yells out, “Race!” and takes off going up the newer set. I laugh and bolt after her. We run up and down each set, panting and laughing. I feel my heart lighten. It’s like I’ve known this woman all my life. After we are at the bottom, catching our breath, Katrina takes some shots of the stairs using her phone and then we head to lunch.
We’re seated at Shutters at a table near the floor-to-ceiling windows. We watch people on The Strand riding bikes and skating. Beyond that is a view of the ocean with palm trees blowing in the light breeze. The waitress comes to take our order. We each order a salad and decide to split a charcuterie. As we wait for our food, I look across the table at Katrina. I’m wondering whether she feels like this is a date or if she’s considering us to be merely friends. I’m taken in by her chocolate colored eyes and the way her soft brown hair falls around her face and over her shoulders. I wonder to myself what it would be like to run my fingers through her hair. I picture us sitting on the beach, her back to my chest as I slowly smooth her hair with my hand. I’d leave a kiss on the side of her neck and work my way around to her mouth …
I take a gulp of water to calm my thoughts and almost choke as I do. I don’t know what has come over me. Apparently, my mind is as befuddled as my mouth today as I can’t keep my thoughts from roaming to romance with Katrina around. I haven’t felt this undone by a woman before.
I ask her, “So, how long have you lived in L.A.?”
She looks out the window and then back at me. “I moved here a little over two years ago from the Hill Country of Texas. With my photography job it just made sense to relocate to a more active metropolis and be nearer to the center of the film industry. I settled in Pasadena. I love that sweet town with all the trees and quaint shops. There’s enough action on Colorado Boulevard that I can go shopping or to a show easily. Plus, there are tons of hiking trails in the San Gabriel Mountains just beyond town. It’s a great location for a single entrepreneurial artist like me.”
“It sounds like it suits you.”
The waitress arrives with our food, and we start eating. “How about you, Jack? Did you grow up here in L.A.?” She smiles and I feel light. I can’t believe we are actually sitting here together.
“I grew up in Montana. I knew I was going to major in business before I left high school. I applied to U of Washington and was accepted. I went on to get my MBA at the Foster School of Business there. All planned out. All lived out according to plan. The job offer in L.A. came through before I even graduated, so I’ve been here about the same amount of time you have.”
“So, you are a planner?”
“To a fault, really. Of course, it’s helpful to think things through, but I sometimes lack spontaneity and flounder when things are uncertain. Man, I’m making myself out to sound like I’m super-boring.”
“Not boring at all. Reliable. That’s a good quality. Some men could take lessons in that, to be sure.” She slightly scowls when she says that.
“Agreed. I’ve met a few. Believe me. Not that all spontaneous men are jerks. My brother being one who never plans much, unless you count planning how to put out a forest fire. Otherwise, he’s a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants guy all the way.” I chuckle a little thinking of Caleb and his carpe diem style of living.
“So, he’s a firefighter?”
“Yep. All the ladies love him. Can’t blame them. He’s fun, full of life, and has a great heart.”
“Are you two close?” She’s staring into my eyes as she asks.
“We are. We don’t get enough time together with his fire service and us living so far apart, but yeah. He’s my best friend in the world, really.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“How about you? You have any brothers or sisters back in Hill Country Texas?” I’m trying to picture her in Texas and I get this image of her up on a horse with her brown hair flying behind her in the wind.
“I’m an only child. My Mama and Daddy are smitten with me. Thankfully I don’t think they spoiled me too badly. I left Hill Country where I grew up as soon as I graduated with my bachelor’s from Baylor. I needed some place with more room for growth in my career. I didn’t want to spend my years chronicling other people’s sweet happily ever after. Besides, I wanted to spread my wings. I’m not known for settling into a rut.”