Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Falling, falling, falling


(via)

So, my friend Cheyenne suggested that I continue Pumpkin Spice Girl's saga for the entire month of October. Or really, until I decide to do something new ;)

If you missed out on installments 1 and 2, you can go here to read all about PS Girl.

Now, for today's continuation of the story....

Here are my words:

playground
bucket
raccoon
juxtaposition
fungus

*****************************************************************

Is it sad I’ve never been to a fall festival before? I must admit, I’m rather enthralled. There are buckets of mums everywhere, pumpkins peek out from every booth we pass, and this entire street smells like cinnamon and honey. Granted, the reason I’m so enchanted may have less to do with the autumn goodies, and more to do with the adorable man strolling beside me.

Dean picks up a pair of hand knitted gloves from the booth we’re at. They have Batman logos knitted all over, and from the way they cover half his hand, I’m guessing they’re intended for a six year old. He holds up his hands. “What do you think?”

“You have need to keep your fingers warm in Georgia?” It’s October but it’s still in the upper sixties right now, despite the fact the sun is about to set.

“I have to protect my assets.” He wiggles his fingers. “These babies have helped me secure the top spot in the Mario Cart wars.”

I arch an eyebrow. “The what?”

Dean smiles sheepishly. “Some buddies and me get together once a month for video game wars."

“Wow. Geek much?”

Dean flashes a grin before I can hate my big mouth for having a mind of its own. “Oh, I am the Mario Cart master.”

“You should add that to your resume.”

Dean puts the Batman gloves back on the table. “How do you know it’s not already on there?”

Now it’s me grinning like an idiot. We exit the booth and reach the end of the street. 

“Well, I guess that’s about it.” Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks back at the rows of booths and vendors lining the street. “You sure you don’t want to go back for that crocheted tea caddy?”

“Tempting. But I’ll pass. Of course, we can go back for that stuffed raccoon if you still have your heart set on him.” I shudder even joking about it. Who sets up a taxidermy booth at a Fall Festival?

Dean arches his eyebrows in mock innocence. “I’m telling you, it would make the best gag gift ever for my mom.”

I chuckle, while inside my heart oozes and puddles in my brown boots. My gosh, the man loves his mother. And not in a creepy way. But in a he’s-told-me-about-all-the-jokes-he’s-pulled-and-the-funny-postcards-he-sends-her way. I mean, really, tomorrow I could wake up a fungus on Dean’s big toe and be so content with my life.

If only I knew how he felt. We’re here, on a date, but so far I have no idea how he thinks it’s going. We’ve talked and I’ve enjoyed it. But he hasn’t held my hand. So far, all I've been in Dean's world is account manager he works. The one who wears conservative pants and cardigans and who keeps pictures of her nephews on her bulletin board at work. I still have no idea how he ever liked me enough to ask me out. He doesn’t know me. Whereas I am one step away from becoming Dean’s stalker.

Dean starts walking toward a playground across the street. I follow him, blindly of course, because evidently my backbone and my wit took a vacation together somewhere tonight.

Dean steps up onto the play structure. Then he turns and offers me a hand. “Come on.” My fingers only touch his for the brief moment it takes him to hoist me up, but they pulse with energy after he drops them.

I must be twelve trapped in a twenty eight year old's body. We climb until we reach the top of the highest portion. 

Dean glances at me. "You scared of heights?"

I smile and jump the five feet or so to the ground.

"Nice dismount," Dean calls.

I throw out my arms like a gymnast, prompting a laugh from him. I settle into a swing and watch him climb the tallest slide. I'm on a date with my boss. And it's not weird like I thought it would be. 

Dean’s so together at work. Decisive but not a bully. Thoughtful. Firm. Smart. Everyone likes him. He’s so grown up at the office. And here he’s streaking down the slide like a teenager. The juxtaposition of his personality is such a turn on, I may very well start panting soon.

We walk back to his car. Butterflies start a waltz in my stomach. It’s only 8:30. He hasn’t mentioned doing anything else. I take a breath and pray he’ll suggest going for coffee. Something. Anything. My gosh, this date cannot be over before nine. What sort of dud am I?

We reach his car and Dean unlocks it without a word. I crawl in and wonder if I could sink through the floorboards to the other side of the world.

Dean fishes his keys out of his pocket. “So Kacey, if I invited you to my house for a lesson in Mario Cart, would you think me a total geek and make an excuse? Or would you come?”

Oh. Gosh. 

I turn and bite my lip, then look at him. “You promise not to hate me when I get so good that I start to beat you?”

Dean grins and starts the car. “Oh man. This is gonna be fun.”

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