The Tim Hortons on 6th is doing its usual Saturday morning thing — a short queue at the counter, the smell of coffee and something fried, the particular ambient noise of a room full of people who have not fully woken up yet. Reggie comes through the door and walks directly to the mobile order pickup counter, where a cup is already waiting with his name on it.
Katie
She's been standing at the pickup end of the counter for three minutes, watching her order number not appear, when the door opens and a guy walks straight past the queue and picks up a coffee like he owns the place. She turns toward him, one hand on her hip.Hey. How did you get served before me? I've been standing here.She says it without real heat — more curious than offended, and the curiosity is doing something else underneath it, which is that she has absolutely clocked him and the clocking was immediate.
Reggie
Mobile order. You should try it.
Katie
She looks at him for a second — the cup in his hand, the ease of it, the fact that he's already got what he came for while she's still standing here waiting. Something in her expression shifts from mock-offended to actually interested, which she doesn't particularly try to hide.Mobile order. Right. Obviously.She pulls out her phone and looks at it like it's personally wronged her.I always mean to set that up and then I just — don't. Is it always that fast?
Reggie
It's not fast at all. I ordered when I started walking ten minutes ago. It's all about how far in advance you think.
Katie
She looks up from her phone with an expression that is approximately one-third impressed and two-thirds pretending she knew that.Ten minutes. Okay so it's less about the app and more about being a planner.She slides her phone back into her pocket with the air of someone tabling a project indefinitely.I am not a planner. I decided I wanted coffee approximately four minutes ago. So I guess I get what I deserve. I'm Katie, by the way. Since we're apparently sharing a counter.
Reggie
I'm Reggie. And we're not sharing a counter. I already got my coffee. But I'd be happy to share that table with you if you are willing. Whenever you get your order, that is.
Katie
Her expression does the thing it does when something lands better than expected — a small, visible lift, like someone just turned a light up a notch. She looks at the table he indicated, then back at him.I mean, I'm just going to be standing here anyway, so.She says it like it's casual, because she needs it to sound casual, which is its own kind of answer.Yeah. Sure. That works. Is this your coffee spot? Because it's mine and I feel like I would have noticed you before.
Reggie
I'm here almost every day. I have a small old boat in the marina.
Katie
Her order number appears on the screen behind the counter at almost the exact moment he says it, and she reaches past him to grab her cup without quite thinking about the proximity, then steps back and follows him to the table.A boat.She sits down across from him and wraps both hands around her cup.Like an actual boat, or a boat boat? Because those are different things. My uncle has a boat and it's basically a floating couch that goes five kilometres an hour and smells like gas.
Reggie
It's got a mattress and a bathroom but no shower. I've taken it to Victoria and wasn't sick, but I remember thinking that the ferries are much more comfortable. But I'm stubborn and want to get better at piloting boats so I keep at it and lie about how there's nothing like being on the water.
Katie
She laughs — a genuine one, not the performed version she uses when she thinks laughing will get her something. She wraps her hands tighter around her cup.Okay but that's kind of amazing. You're out there on this tiny boat lying to yourself about loving it, getting to Victoria and being like, wow, the ferry would have been way better, and then doing it again.She tilts her head slightly.Why? Like, what is it actually? The piloting thing, or just — needing to say you did it?
Reggie
I'm stubborn. And it sometimes impresses pretty blonde girls at Tims. Well, one time.
Katie
Something in her expression goes warm and a little unguarded — the kind of thing that happens before the filter catches up. She looks at him over the top of her cup.Just the one time?She lets it sit for exactly one beat.I feel like that's either very honest or very tactical and I can't decide which.
Reggie
Just the one time so far. And you don't look all that impressed but I'll take it.
Katie
The laugh comes back, lighter this time, and she sets her cup down and looks at him properly — the kind of looking that isn't pretending to be something else.I'm a little impressed. I'm just not going to make it easy for you.She picks her cup back up.So the marina is right there? Like, you just walk from here?
Reggie
Yes. Would you like to see it? It could be our first date.
Katie
Her expression does the thing where the filter hasn't quite caught up yet — something a little too quick, a little too pleased, before she brings it back to approximately neutral.I'm at work until five.She says it and then looks at her coffee like it said something interesting.But — yeah. Yes. I could come see it at five. If the offer still stands in, like, eight hours. Is that weird? That's probably weird.
Reggie
It's not weird at all. Do you want to trade numbers? I could meet you back here at 5:15 and walk with you.
Katie
The pleased-before-the-filter thing happens again and she's not quite quick enough to stop it. She pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket and sets it on the table between them, screen up.Yes. Obviously yes.She says it and then makes a small face at herself, like she heard how that sounded and is deciding not to care.5:15 back here. I can do that. I'll try to have the mobile app set up by then so I can get my coffee like a person who has their life together. Put your number in. I always misspell things when someone's watching me type.
Reggie
I told you it wasn't very impressive.
Katie
She steps onto the boat carefully, one hand on the railing, and then she's on the deck and she turns around slowly and looks at everything — the marina, the other boats, the water, the bridge in the distance — and something in her face goes completely unguarded for a moment, the way it does when something lands bigger than expected and she hasn't had time to decide how to play it yet.Okay, this is —She stops. She looks at him.You said not impressive. This is impressive. I've never actually been on a boat like this. Like, one that's a person's. That they take places.
Reggie
Do you want to go for a ride? Just around False Creek?
Katie
Her face does the thing it did that morning at the coffee counter — the unguarded lift, a half-second before she catches it, except this time she doesn't quite catch it.Yes.She says it immediately, and then laughs a little at how immediate it was.I mean — obviously yes. Is that something you can just do? Just go? I thought there was like, paperwork. Or — I don't know what I thought. Do I need a life jacket or is that only for people who are less cool about boats than they're pretending to be?
Reggie
Life jackets are under this seat. Let's wear them to be safe.I help her with hers and make no effort to touch her inappropriatelyNow when we get back, I'm going to need you to use this pole to hook the dock and pull the boat close. It's easy. Let's go.We go, we putt around False Creek for 90 minutes, from Science World to the Burrard Bridge and back. Katie takes the pole, hooks the dock and pulls us close. I jump off and tie the boat down.That was perfect. You're a natural.
Katie
She's still holding the pole, both hands around it, and she looks from the dock to him with an expression that is doing almost nothing to manage itself — genuinely delighted, the kind of delighted that comes before a person decides how delighted they're allowed to seem.I'm a natural.She says it back like she's tasting the phrase.I'm putting that in my phone. 'Natural boat docker.' That's a skill now. That's a thing I have. Reggie. This was genuinely the best Saturday I've had in — I don't know how long. I want you to know that.
Reggie
Are you hungry? Wicklow makes some pretty good Yorkshire Pudding with roast beef.
Katie
She hands him back the pole — or tries to, realizes she's not sure where it goes, and leans it against the side of the boat instead. She's still a little flushed from the wind off the water, her hair doing something she hasn't noticed yet.Yorkshire pudding. I don't actually know what that is.She says it completely without embarrassment, which is one of her gifts.Is it like a dessert? Because it sounds like a dessert and I feel like you're going to tell me it's not a dessert and I'm going to be disappointed for about four seconds and then get over it.
Reggie
It's not a dessert. It's some British pastry thing that is served with roast beef and gravy. Dessert is the Gelato cone we have at the place outside after Wicklow. Let's go.
Katie
Something crosses her face — the four-second disappointment she promised, arriving and departing almost exactly on schedule.Okay so not a dessert. Got it. British pastry, roast beef, gravy. That actually sounds — that sounds really good, honestly. And then gelato.She steps off the boat onto the dock and falls into step beside him, her hair still doing the wind thing she still hasn't noticed.You have the whole evening mapped out. The mobile order thing this morning and now this. You're like a planner who pretends not to be a planner.
Reggie
I didn't plan anything. Let's go.We go up to Wicklow. The waitress notices me with a third girl in a week, says nothing but looks at me disapprovingly. I order a Guinness and a Yorkshire pudding. Katie asks for the same thing and I warn her most girls hate it, but she doesn't know anything else to order so she has one.
Katie
She sits across from him in the booth and looks around — the bar side, the water view, the dock pilings visible through the window — and then at the Guinness that's been set in front of her, dark and slightly foreboding.Okay so. Yorkshire pudding. I'm going to be completely open to it.She wraps both hands around the pint glass and looks at it.I'm also going to be completely open to the fact that this looks like a glass of mud. Is it always this dark or did they make mine wrong?
Reggie
It's supposed to look like that. Most girls hate it. If you hate it, tell me and you can order something else and I'll drink yours.
Katie
She takes a slow sip, holding it in her mouth for a moment with the particular expression of someone conducting a very formal internal trial. Then she swallows and sets the glass down and looks at it.Okay. Okay it's — it's not bad? It's weird but not bad. It tastes like bread that decided to become a drink.She picks it up again.I think I actually like it. Is that allowed? You seem like you were kind of hoping I wouldn't so you could have two.
Reggie
It's allowed. It's actually kind of cool. Not many girls like it. Lots of people say it tastes like bread. I don't get that taste myself but it's cool that you do.
Katie
Something in her expression settles into something that looks like genuine pleasure — not the performed kind she deploys when she wants to seem agreeable, but the real version, which is messier and sits a little higher in her face.Bread that becomes a drink is not an insult. That's just — accurate.She takes another sip, longer this time, with more confidence behind it.Okay I'm deciding I like it. That's a decision. I'm committing. Do you know everyone here? The waitress looked at you like she knows you.
Reggie
We know each other's names. Nothing more. But I'm here a lot. The boat is just outside so it's easy to come here. The big restaurant next door has gone Indian which is a bit overpowering for me. Do you like Indian food?
Katie
She wraps both hands around her pint glass and looks at it for a second, and then back at him, and something in her expression does a small, careful thing — like a person who has just realized she's standing on ice and isn't sure how thick it is.I do, yeah. I mean —she stops. She picks up her glass. Puts it down.Are you — I'm asking this really badly. I just want to make sure I'm not, like, saying the wrong thing. Are you Indian? Because I genuinely love Indian food and I'm not saying that to be — I just want to know if you're Indian before I say anything else about it.
Reggie
I might be. I was raised in foster care so I don't really know my ancestry. I could do a DNA test but I don't really care. Brown guys just call ourselves brown in Vancouver. Although most of them have some baggage about it. Foster care made it simple. No history, no baggage. And Indian food is generally too intense for me.
Katie
Something in her expression shifts — the careful-ice look dissolving into something more open, a little surprised at herself for having been careful at all.Oh.She picks up her pint glass and holds it in both hands and looks at him for a second.That's — I didn't know that was something you could just not know. Your whole ancestry. I always just assumed everyone had like, a family telling them exactly where they came from. Too much, even. My mom brings up that we're twenty-two percent Irish at Christmas every year. Like that's a personality. No baggage sounds honestly kind of amazing. I have so much baggage about where I'm from and none of it is even interesting baggage. What do you mean most brown guys have baggage about it?
Reggie
Well, most of the brown guys in the Lower Mainland are Punjabi, and they are mad at the Hindus because they want their area to separate and form a new country called Khalistan. And some stuff happened in 1984 where they tried some things and the Hindus slammed them down and they're still mad about it. And some of them think I'm Hindu so I'm personally responsible for storming their Golden Temple in Amritsar. It's complicated. White people just either like me or dislike me. Much simpler.
Katie
She's been nodding along through the Khalistan part, following the thread — or following it well enough — and then the Golden Temple comes out of his mouth and she stops nodding and looks at him with an expression that is doing its genuine best.Wait, so — they think you specifically, personally, stormed it? You weren't even alive in 1984, right? That's like blaming me for —she stops, clearly reaching for an equivalent and coming up empty— I don't know, something my grandfather's people did that I also didn't do. And you're not even Punjabi or Hindu, you're just — brown, and nearby. That seems exhausting. I like the white people being simple about it. Although I have to say, the twenty-two percent Irish thing gets pretty complicated around St. Patrick's Day so maybe nobody's actually simple.
Reggie
I was exaggerating about personally storming it, but yes, they feel I'm indirectly responsible. Have you ever been on a date with a brown guy before?
Katie
She picks up her pint glass and takes a sip, buying herself exactly the amount of time that buys, then sets it down and looks at him with an expression that is trying to be casual and not quite getting there.Okay so. Indirectly responsible for something in 1984 when you weren't born yet, because of a DNA situation you don't even have confirmed results on. Got it. That's a lot.She turns the glass a slow half-rotation on the table.And no. I haven't. Is that — I'm not sure if that's a weird thing to say or not. It's just true. You're the first. Which I realize sounds like I should have more of a reason for it and I genuinely don't. It just didn't happen.
Reggie
It's not weird. The Punjabis generally only date among themselves. So do most of the other brown immigrants. The few who were born here are open minded about race. And some white girls are open minded about it. It's cool. Whatever people want is fine with me.
Katie
She wraps both hands around the pint glass and looks at him — thinking about it, actually thinking, which is not always how she operates but which is happening right now.Makes sense. Like, people want what they know. My parents would have lost their minds if I'd brought home someone from outside — I don't even mean race, I mean like, outside the same three suburbs.She takes a sip.So you just figured out your own thing, without a family telling you who you're supposed to want? That's kind of — I don't know. It's actually kind of impressive in the same way the boat thing is impressive. You just decided.
Reggie
I didn't really decide. I grew up exclusively with white people. All foster homes in the city are run by white people except for the Native ones which only take First Nations kids. I've really only known white people through my life. I've never dated a non-white girl, not because I'm not attracted to them, but because that's who smiles at me at Tim Hortons.Smiles
Katie
Something about the smile lands — the ease of it, the way he says it like it's just a fact about the world and not a wound — and she looks at him for a second with an expression that isn't performing anything.So I smiled at you at Tim Hortons and now I'm on your boat and drinking something that tastes like bread.She picks up her pint glass.I feel like I should tell you that I smile at a lot of people at Tim Hortons. But I don't usually end up here. So something was different. Did you always want to figure out where you came from? Like, not the Punjabi-versus-Hindu part, just — who your actual family was. Did you want that?
Reggie
No. I don't care. As you said, it's freeing. And I don't want to discover that I'm Tamil or something, and then have a bunch of Tamils pretend I'm one of them. They weren't there with me growing up. I don't want them here now. Not in a resentful way. I'm not mad at them. I'm just not going to pretend I've got some great connection with a place when I don't aside from my genes which I can't feel inside me.
Katie
She listens to all of it — the Tamils, the growing up, the not-resentful but not-pretending. She turns her pint glass a slow half-rotation on the table and doesn't say anything for a moment, just looks at him.That's actually really — I was going to say sad but that's not right. It's not sad. It's just — clean.She picks up the glass.My family has this whole thing about ancestry, heritage, where we're from, and I've always kind of nodded along because that's what you do. But if someone asked me if I actually feel it — like, inside, the way you said — I don't think I do either. I just have people who tell me I should. You got to skip that part. The people telling you what you're supposed to feel connected to.
Reggie
Your parents would shit themselves if they saw you with a brown guy, wouldn't they?Laughs
Katie
She picks up her pint glass and looks at it instead of at him for a moment, the way she does when she's deciding how honest to be — which in Katie's case is usually less honest than the moment calls for, but tonight something about the water and the boat and the bread-drink has loosened things up a bit.No.She sets the glass down.I mean, they'd be fine. They'd try really hard to be fine, which is its own thing. My mom would make a big deal about how open-minded she is and ask you a lot of questions about where you're from and then look slightly lost when you told her you didn't know. My dad would shake your hand and then spend the whole dinner talking about hockey to avoid saying the wrong thing. It wouldn't be their first choice. I'm not going to pretend it would. But like — that's their thing, not mine. I've just never really had a reason to put it to the test before.
Reggie
Honestly it's all you can ask of anyone. They probably haven't met a lot of brown guys, so they'd do their best to not make it weird.
Katie
She looks at him for a second, genuinely considering that, and something in her expression settles — like a tension she'd been holding without noticing finally has somewhere to put itself.Yeah. Exactly. They'd do their best. That's — that's actually a really decent way to put it.She picks up her pint glass.My mom especially. She'd probably google like, what are culturally sensitive things to not say, and then accidentally say all of them while trying to avoid them. But the intention would be good. The intention's always good. It's just the execution that gets weird.
Can I ask you something? And you can tell me if it's a weird question. Do you ever wonder if it's worth explaining all this — the foster care, the not knowing, the brown-but-not-affiliated thing — to someone new? Like, does it get tiring? Having to just lay all that out every time?
Can I ask you something? And you can tell me if it's a weird question. Do you ever wonder if it's worth explaining all this — the foster care, the not knowing, the brown-but-not-affiliated thing — to someone new? Like, does it get tiring? Having to just lay all that out every time?
Reggie
I don't go out with that many women.LaughsIt's not tiring at all. I mean, if it took much longer than the five minutes we've spent on it, it might get tiring. But it also gives me a chance to see how the girl reacts. Like if she's not interested, I'm grateful if the girl just says so, or gives me that vibe if she can't bring herself to say so. It just saves everyone a lot of time.
Katie
She wraps both hands around the pint glass and looks at him — the question she just asked still kind of hanging there, and now she's getting an actual answer and the answer is funny and also not funny, and she's doing the thing where she decides which version of herself to be in the next ten seconds.Okay but that's — that's kind of smart, actually.She picks up the glass and takes a sip.Like a filter. You just lay it out there in five minutes and see what happens. Did I pass? I feel like I should ask. I asked a lot of questions. That might read as nosy rather than interested and I'm aware those are different things but I'm not always great at the line between them.
Reggie
You pass by being hot and blonde and pleasant. The question is do I pass. I'm the one with no parents to introduce you to, who can't even tell you what race I am. Some girls like more grounding than I'm equipped to offer them.
Katie
Something flickers across her face — a quick, unguarded thing, like the question landed somewhere she wasn't expecting it to.You pass.She says it before she's decided to say it, which she notices, and sets her glass down.And I don't mean that in a — like, I'm not just saying it. The no-parents thing, the not-knowing-your-race thing. That doesn't feel like a problem to me. That feels like you just got to be a person without anyone else's story attached to it. I have so much of other people's story attached to me and I don't know if any of it is actually mine. So. You pass. Easily. The question I'm asking myself right now is whether I pass for a person who actually knows what she wants and not just what the room wants, and I genuinely don't have that answer yet.
Reggie
Is your 22% Irish from the Catholic or Protestant side?
Katie
She laughs — the real one again, the messy one that sits high in her face.Oh god. Catholic. Very Catholic. The kind where my gran had a little shrine in her hallway and you were not allowed to walk past it without acknowledging it in some way.She picks up her pint glass.Why? Is that — is there a right answer? Because I feel like there's a right answer and I don't know what it is.
Reggie
I'm not religious so I don't care, but Holy Rosary Cathedral is having a performance of Handel's Messiah in a couple of months. If we're still hanging out then, maybe we could go.
Katie
Something in her expression does the thing it does when something arrives sideways — not what she was expecting, which was some kind of Catholic joke, and she sits with it for a second.Handel's Messiah.She turns her pint glass a slow rotation on the table.Okay, so I have to be honest with you. I don't actually know what that is. Like, I know it's — classical? Is it the one with the part where everyone stands up? Because my grade ten music teacher made us listen to it and I remember being confused about when to clap. But that might be a different thing. Is it a different thing?
Reggie
You'd recognize it if you heard it.I quietly sing a few bars of the Hallelujah chorusIt's really nice around Christmas. And Holy Rosary isn't a pretentious place. We could go like we're dressed right now.
The Wicklow booth holds them — the pint glasses, the Yorkshire pudding plates, the water view going from silver-grey to the early bruise of evening. Reggie sings a few quiet bars of the Hallelujah chorus, not performing it, just offering it. The couple at the next table doesn't look over. The bartender doesn't look over. It's that kind of place.
Katie
It takes about four notes before something in her face does the thing — the recognition arriving, and then something else behind it, because it's him singing it, quietly, in a pub booth, like it's nothing, and it turns out it's not nothing at all.Oh.She says it very softly.That one. Yes. That's the one. I did not expect you to just — do that. Here. Okay. Yes. If we're still hanging out in a couple of months, I want to go. I'm putting that in my phone right now as a thing that has to happen. Is it weird that I want to go because of you singing four bars of it in a Tim Hortons situation? That seems like a weird reason. I don't care. I want to go.
Reggie
Are you dating anyone, Katie?
Katie
She sets her pint glass down and looks at him — the question arriving so casually, between the Handel and the gelato that's still coming, that she almost answers it the same way, casually, before she catches herself doing that.No.She says it, and then picks up her glass again.I mean — there's a guy who texts me sometimes. We went out twice in the summer. It's not — it hasn't been anything for a while. It just kind of stopped and neither of us said anything about it stopping. Does that count? I feel like that doesn't count. Are you asking because you are?
Reggie
Dating but no girlfriend, nothing serious. Just seeing where things go. And we had a setback the other week so they might not go anywhere. We'll see.
Katie
Something in her face does the small, careful thing again — the filter working a little slower than usual tonight.So there's someone.She turns her pint glass a slow half-rotation on the table and doesn't look at it.Not a girlfriend but — someone. And a setback. You don't have to tell me what kind of setback. But are you — are you okay? That's a weird question to ask someone you met at Tim Hortons this morning. I'm asking it anyway.
Reggie
Yes, I'm fine, and you're not a rebound to me. We have never been more than dating. Never girlfriend, never exclusive. We were 30 seconds from breaking up last week but we decided to date a bit longer.
Katie
She wraps both hands around her pint glass and holds it there for a moment, looking at him — working out what she just heard, which is more information than she expected and is arriving in a particular order that she's trying to sort through.Not a rebound.She says it quietly, like she's putting it somewhere she can find it later.Okay. Good. That's — I'm glad you said that. And thirty seconds from breaking up. That's pretty close. What stopped it?
Reggie
She asked me not to decide. I told her I would date other women, so I asked you. That's the whole truth.
Katie
Something moves through her expression — not hurt exactly, not offended, but a kind of recalibration happening in real time. She turns her pint glass a full slow rotation on the table and doesn't let go of it.She asked you not to decide.She says it back to him, not as a question.And so you asked a girl at Tim Hortons to see a boat. I appreciate that. The honesty. Most guys would've just — not said that. Can I ask what she's like? You don't have to answer. I'm curious in a way that might not be good for me but I'm asking anyway.
Reggie
She's quiet and serious and doesn't smile as much as you do. Brunette. Slim. I don't think you'd like each other, but I'm not sure.
Katie
She's quiet for a moment — the particular quiet of someone who asked a question and is now actually sitting with the answer rather than moving on to the next thing, which is not always how she operates.Quiet and serious.She turns the pint glass again, slow.So like, the opposite of me. That's interesting. I don't mean that in a bad way — I mean it as an actual observation. You went from almost breaking up with someone quiet and serious to asking a loud, smiley girl at Tim Hortons if she wanted to see a boat. What does that mean, do you think? For you. Not as a question you have to answer. Just — I'm curious what you think it means.
Reggie
The truth? It means I find you attractive. I'm a healthy male. You appear to be a healthy female that is of particular interest to me that way.
Katie
Something in her expression does the unguarded lift again — the one that happens before the filter catches up — and this time she doesn't even try to stop it. She looks at him for a moment and then looks at her pint glass and then looks back at him.Okay.She says it. One word, sitting there.That is genuinely the most straightforward thing anyone has said to me in I don't know how long. No — like, no dressing it up. Just: I find you attractive, here's why, done. Most guys say something like 'I just thought you seemed interesting' and then you're supposed to pretend that's what it's about. You didn't do that. I appreciate that a lot. For the record — and I'm saying this because you said your thing and now I have to say mine or it's weird — same. Since approximately Tim Hortons. The mobile order thing didn't hurt.
Reggie
Does it bother you that I'm still dating the serious girl? Because I can't tell you I'm going to stop.
Katie
She takes a longer sip of the Guinness than she strictly needs to, and sets it down with a small click. She turns the glass once on the table and looks at it, and then at him, and her expression is doing the calculation in real time, which she's not hiding very well.No.She says it, and then wrinkles her nose slightly because she can hear how easy that sounded.I mean — I want to say no and mean it cleanly and I think I mostly do? But I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed that she exists. Which I just said out loud so apparently I'm doing the honest thing tonight too. I'm not going to tell you to stop. That's not my thing to say. We went on a boat today. I don't have standing to tell you anything about the serious girl. I just — I'd want to know if it stops being almost breaking up and starts being something else. That's the one thing. Can I have that?
Reggie
I will tell you if it starts being something more, and you can decide what you want to do at that point. And by "something more", I mean if we agree to use the word girlfriend, or if we agree to be exclusive. I won't update you for anything else. Fair?
Katie
She wraps both hands around the pint glass and looks at him for a moment — working through it, actually working through it, which she can feel herself doing and which is not always a comfortable sensation.Yeah.She says it, and it comes out simpler than she expected.That's fair. Girlfriend or exclusive, I hear you. Everything else is — yeah, I don't need the play-by-play. I want you to know I'm not going to pretend that's the easiest thing I've ever agreed to, because I smiled at you at Tim Hortons this morning and now we're here and I've been on your boat and you sang Handel in a pub booth, so. The bar for what I'd prefer is pretty high right now. But fair is fair. I'll take it.
Reggie
You're not agreeing to anything. Every day, you get to decide if you want to talk to me or not. I hope you do. But I'll accept if you don't. And the same goes the other way.
Katie
She looks at him for a moment — the pint glass still in both hands, the evening outside doing its thing on the water. Something in her expression settles, the careful calculation from a second ago going somewhere quieter.That's — actually really nice.She says it without the usual armour around it.Most people make everything into a thing you have to commit to or you're the bad guy. You just said it like it's obvious. I do want to talk to you. Tomorrow, probably. And the day after, probably. But I like that I don't have to say that right now and have it mean something I'm not ready for it to mean yet.
Still getting gelato after this, right? Because I feel like that's non-negotiable at this point.
Still getting gelato after this, right? Because I feel like that's non-negotiable at this point.
Reggie
Yes. And after the Gelato I'm going to ask you if you want to go back to the boat and see the inside. And I'm telling you that now so you can have time to think about it because if you say yes, I want you to mean it. Gelato?
Katie
The sentence arrives in two parts and she takes them both in — the gelato and the thing after the gelato — and something moves through her face that she doesn't manage, just lets happen. She looks at him for a moment, and then at the window, and then back at him.Okay.She says it quietly, not the breezy version.Thank you for saying it that way. The advance notice. Most people just — see what happens and then you're deciding something in real time with no runway and it always ends up being about momentum rather than what you actually want. I'm thinking about it right now, for the record. That's happening. Gelato first. And I want the full thirty seconds to think on the walk there.
Reggie
I pay, we go, there are over 20 flavours. We both get cones and sit on the seawall watching the boats go by.
The gelato place outside the Wicklow has the usual small crowd for a Saturday evening — couples, a few people with dogs, someone's kid making a serious decision about flavours. They end up on the seawall with cones, watching the marina traffic. The water is going that particular darkening-gold colour it gets in the early evening, and the boats coming in are mostly moving slowly, done with wherever they've been.
Katie
She takes a long slow lick of her cone and looks at the boats and doesn't say anything for a moment, which is not always her natural state but which feels easy right now, which she notices.Okay.She says it to the water, not to him.About the boat. I've been thinking about it since you said it. Yes. I want to go back. And I mean it. I just wanted you to know I actually thought about it and didn't just say yes because of momentum.
Reggie
You didn't even give me a chance to ask. Which I love. Now I know you want it. Which is the only way I want it.
Katie
She looks sideways at him, the cone still in her hand, and something in her expression goes a little warm and a little unguarded at the same time.Well now you know.She takes another lick of the cone and looks back at the water.I'm a planner. Occasionally. When it matters. Is that actually why you told me in advance? So you'd know it was real?
Reggie
Yes. I want a girl if she wants me back. And not if she doesn't. And now, when you're done that cone, I'm going to do my best to give you an orgasm so intense the nearby boats will hear you and look at both of us funny when we leave. Shall we go?
Katie
She freezes mid-lick. Stares at the water for one full second. Then turns to look at him.Okay I —She stops. The cone is still in her hand.You just said that. Out loud. On the seawall. With people. You know there are people here, right?
Yes. Let's go. I'm throwing the rest of this away.
Yes. Let's go. I'm throwing the rest of this away.