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You’re A Sad, Lonely Little Man

“Wait. What?” Ian cocked his head. “What are you sorry for?”

Ivy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I was perfectly willing to let you come here and grovel.”

“But?”

“I have no right to expect an apology. It’s no wonder you think I’m crazy.”

“Ivy, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” She searched his face for a sign of disapproval.

“It was just an odd situation. You know?”

“Still is.” She cast her eyes down.

“Boy, you can say that again.” He chuckled. “Think we can start over?”

“Start over?”

“Look, we definitely didn’t meet under the best circumstances. Let’s try again.”

She looked up to find him gazing at her hopefully. “So, what do we do?”

“Hi, my name is Ian Woodard. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m Ivy Donegan. Nice to meet you.”

“I have a landscaping business.”

“I’m a freelance illustrator.”

“Sometimes, I talk to myself in public places.”

“Yes.” She laughed. “Yes, you do.”

“That’s better, but it’s your turn.” Ian smiled.

“My turn?”

“Nobody’s perfect, Ivy.” Ian said. ‘Even if you look like you are.’

“Hmm, well, I think we established that I’m not the crazy one.”

“Well, this went off the rails pretty quickly. I take it you have no flaws or quirks, then?”

“A lady likes to maintain an air of respectability, sir.”

“And a heaping helping of humility, too, I see.”

‘Touché, Mr. Smartypants.’ Ivy sipped her macchiato to suppress her embarrassed grin. “So, what now?”

“I have no idea.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that drink.”

“Am I getting you a drink?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She enjoyed watching him squirm. “Oh? What did you mean?”

“I’d like to get myself something so we can sit here and get to know each other.”

“Be my guest.”

“You’re not going to skip out on me while I’m in line, are you?”

She sipped her macchiato and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Can I refill that for you?”

“Too kind.”

“Great, I’ll be right back.” Ian jogged over to the waiting barista. ‘Not great. I have no idea what she’s drinking.’

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I sure hope so. I’d like a hot chocolate and whatever she’s having.”

“Who?”

“The striking blonde over there.”

She looked over at Ivy. “Dustin, come here a minute.”

Dustin nodded and finished ringing out a customer before approaching. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Do you remember what that lady got?”

“Triple-Whipped Gingerbread Macchiato with a Cranberry Almond Spice Cake Biscotto.”

Ian gave the young man a double take. “That’s a thing?”

“Mm-hmm. Pretty good, too.” Dustin said proudly as he wandered back to his cash register.

“Huh. Nix the hot chocolate and make it two of those…”

“Triple-Whipped Gingerbread Macchiato? Did you want a biscotto, too?”

“In for a penny, in for a pound.”

“I’ll have those for you in a moment. Go ahead and see Dustin. He’ll ring you up.”

Ian checked to see that Ivy was still there. Their eyes met. A million butterflies launched in his stomach.

“You alright, mister?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Dustin smiled. “Two Triple-Whipped Gingerbread Macchiatos and two Cranberry Almond Spice Cake Biscotti?”

“That’s easy for you to say. I don’t even know what a macchiato is.”

“It’s basically an espresso latte.”

“Come again?”

“Espresso is kind of like concentrated coffee and latte just means they blend milk into it.”

“Thanks for the translation and the warning. I’ll probably be up until Saturday.” He handed the kid a twenty.

Dustin dispensed his change. “It’s got a little kick to it. Just take your time and enjoy the flavor.”

Ian picked up the tray and returned to Ivy’s table. She was sitting there with her chin propped on her hand.

“Were you watching all that?” He handed her a cup and biscotto.

“I was examining your lines.”

He put down his cup and biscotto. “My lines?” He held the tray over his waist. “Is that artist talk for-”

“Settle down, Mr. Modesty. When I ogle people, it’s purely professional.”

He turned to return the tray, holding it across his backside.

“You’ve got to put that down sometime, Ian.”

He got a chill when she said his name.

“Are you done clowning around?” She asked him, finishing her original drink.

Ian sat down and peeled the plastic sleeve from his straw. “Pretty much never. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“It’s better than watching you run away.”

“I’m really sorry about that.” He plunged the straw through the ginger-dusted whipped cream. “I was overwhelmed.”

“Holly and I were having a little tension. I guess I took it out on you.”

“Well, that’s all in the past. Okay? Let’s just put that behind us.”

“Fair enough.” Ivy smiled. “So, tell me. What does a landscaper do when it’s cold and snowy?”

“Christmas lights.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Some people just want a basic setup. Some go for the dancing lights and music.” He took a sip of his drink.

“Are you okay?”

“Dustin warned me about this stuff, but wow. I think I’ll stick with hot chocolate.”

“So, how are your auditions going?”

“Sorry?”

“Chelsea told me about your little girlfriend contest.”

“Oh, that.” He took another swig of his macchiato. “That was Nancy’s idea. She was just trying to help.”

“You need help?”

“We all need help with something, Ivy. I don’t really meet people.”

“I’d think you would meet all kinds of people.”

“Well, not single people my age. Mostly couples and retirees.”

“But you wanted to meet people.” Her eyes drilled into him.

“Sure. What’s it all for if you don’t have someone to share it with?”

“You’re a sad, lonely little man.” She took another sip of her drink.

Ian laughed. “Yeah, that’s me in a nutshell. How about you?”

“How about me?”

“Are you happy?”

‘I am now.’ Ivy rolled her eyes to let him know she was pondering. “I think so.”

“Tell me something, though.”

“If I can.”

“You seem pretty together and fairly mellow.”

“Why thank you.”

“Be honest now. How do you stay so serene drinking this jet fuel?”