There every morning when I stepped out of my front door to walk to
school. Followed me through the halls of the school. Trailed me home nearly
every day after school.”
“You were persistent,”
Eunice said.
Mrs. Farrington
scoffed. “He was a pest.”
“I like to call it
recognizing a good thing,” Mr. Farrington said with a chuckle.
They all laughed.
Eunice tuned into them
like they were her favorite sitcom. “The date… How was it?”
“My goal was to be the
worst companion possible. That way he would finally leave me alone.” Mrs.
Farrington rested her hands on either side of Mr. Farrington’s face. “But I
fell in love with him that night.” She kissed him gently on the lips. “I’ve
loved him more and more with every passing second.”
Just then, Blake
entered the room. “Oh, God. My parents are making out in front of my girlfriend.
Are you as traumatized as I am?”
Eunice liked the way
girlfriend rolled off of Blake’s tongue so effortlessly. She admired him in a
pair of dark denim jeans and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to
his elbows. Swallowing hard helped her to steady her eyes on him and not his
body. “It’s not traumatic; it’s romantic.”
“Don’t tell me you’re
telling the ‘how I met your mother story.’”
Eunice swatted Blake. “It’s
a great story. Please continue. Why were you so against dating him?”
Mrs. Farrington studied
her husband for a beat. “I was skeptical.”
“Skeptical?” Blake asked
as if he’d never heard this part of the tale. He took a seat beside Eunice at
the counter. “Why skeptical?”
“Your father could have
had any girl in that schoolhouse or the next. They all wanted to be with this tall,
chocolate, handsome man. He was a Farrington. And women—young and old—used to love
those smooth-talking Farrington brothers.”
Eunice glanced at Blake.
Women still did.
Mrs. Farrington
continued, “I couldn’t understand why, of all the women he had to choose from,
he wanted me. I was chubby, shy, wore my sister’s hand-me-downs. So, on our
first date, I asked him.”
Eunice bit at the
corner of her lip, anticipating the response. Blake appeared just as intrigued.
Mrs. Farrington placed her hand over Mr. Farrington’s heart and smiled into the
face of the man she’d loved for four decades.
Eunice and Blake eyed
one another. Something lingered in his eyes. Something tender. Something
fragile. Something that made her desire him more than anything else she could
imagine. Maybe Blake saw that desire because he broke their connection.
“Are you two just going
to keep us in suspense, or what?” Blake asked.
Mr. Farrington brushed
a lock of hair behind one of his wife’s ears and said, “I told your mother that
in those other girls I see a night. But in her I see a lifetime. And that if
she would be mine, I’d spend an eternity making her the happiest woman alive.”
“And you stayed true to
your word,” said Mrs. Farrington.
For a moment, Eunice
wondered if they’d forgotten she and Blake were in the room, because the two
seemed to lose themselves in each other. Blake cleared his throat.
Mr. Farrington took his
wife by the hand. “I need to see you upstairs for a moment.”
They excused themselves
and hurried out the room.
Blake groaned. “Oh, God.
I don’t want to think about my parents having sex, but something tells me that
is exactly what’s about to happen.”
“I think it’s wonderful
that they have such a healthy marriage. That after all of these years, your
father still desires your mother.”
Blake nodded. “Yeah, I
guess you’re right.” He pushed away from the counter. “Grab your coat and take
a walk with me.”
***
Thus far on this trip,
Blake had experienced flickers, throbbing, and tightening. He could now add butterflies
to his list of involuntary reactions that occurred each time he touched Eunice.
But that didn’t stop him from gripping her hand and guiding her out of
school. Followed me through the halls of the school. Trailed me home nearly
every day after school.”
“You were persistent,”
Eunice said.
Mrs. Farrington
scoffed. “He was a pest.”
“I like to call it
recognizing a good thing,” Mr. Farrington said with a chuckle.
They all laughed.
Eunice tuned into them
like they were her favorite sitcom. “The date… How was it?”
“My goal was to be the
worst companion possible. That way he would finally leave me alone.” Mrs.
Farrington rested her hands on either side of Mr. Farrington’s face. “But I
fell in love with him that night.” She kissed him gently on the lips. “I’ve
loved him more and more with every passing second.”
Just then, Blake
entered the room. “Oh, God. My parents are making out in front of my girlfriend.
Are you as traumatized as I am?”
Eunice liked the way
girlfriend rolled off of Blake’s tongue so effortlessly. She admired him in a
pair of dark denim jeans and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to
his elbows. Swallowing hard helped her to steady her eyes on him and not his
body. “It’s not traumatic; it’s romantic.”
“Don’t tell me you’re
telling the ‘how I met your mother story.’”
Eunice swatted Blake. “It’s
a great story. Please continue. Why were you so against dating him?”
Mrs. Farrington studied
her husband for a beat. “I was skeptical.”
“Skeptical?” Blake asked
as if he’d never heard this part of the tale. He took a seat beside Eunice at
the counter. “Why skeptical?”
“Your father could have
had any girl in that schoolhouse or the next. They all wanted to be with this tall,
chocolate, handsome man. He was a Farrington. And women—young and old—used to love
those smooth-talking Farrington brothers.”
Eunice glanced at Blake.
Women still did.
Mrs. Farrington
continued, “I couldn’t understand why, of all the women he had to choose from,
he wanted me. I was chubby, shy, wore my sister’s hand-me-downs. So, on our
first date, I asked him.”
Eunice bit at the
corner of her lip, anticipating the response. Blake appeared just as intrigued.
Mrs. Farrington placed her hand over Mr. Farrington’s heart and smiled into the
face of the man she’d loved for four decades.
Eunice and Blake eyed
one another. Something lingered in his eyes. Something tender. Something
fragile. Something that made her desire him more than anything else she could
imagine. Maybe Blake saw that desire because he broke their connection.
“Are you two just going
to keep us in suspense, or what?” Blake asked.
Mr. Farrington brushed
a lock of hair behind one of his wife’s ears and said, “I told your mother that
in those other girls I see a night. But in her I see a lifetime. And that if
she would be mine, I’d spend an eternity making her the happiest woman alive.”
“And you stayed true to
your word,” said Mrs. Farrington.
For a moment, Eunice
wondered if they’d forgotten she and Blake were in the room, because the two
seemed to lose themselves in each other. Blake cleared his throat.
Mr. Farrington took his
wife by the hand. “I need to see you upstairs for a moment.”
They excused themselves
and hurried out the room.
Blake groaned. “Oh, God.
I don’t want to think about my parents having sex, but something tells me that
is exactly what’s about to happen.”
“I think it’s wonderful
that they have such a healthy marriage. That after all of these years, your
father still desires your mother.”
Blake nodded. “Yeah, I
guess you’re right.” He pushed away from the counter. “Grab your coat and take
a walk with me.”
***
Thus far on this trip,
Blake had experienced flickers, throbbing, and tightening. He could now add butterflies
to his list of involuntary reactions that occurred each time he touched Eunice.
But that didn’t stop him from gripping her hand and guiding her out of
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