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“I can’t believe I just left the truck on the side of the road!” Meredith chuckled a little, digging into the perfect slice of blueberry pie in front of her.
“Are you trying to say I’m a bad influence?” Robert joked, picking up his own fork.
Meredith mulled that over a bit. “I wouldn’t say bad. Not at all. I would say… impulsive.”
Robert laughed around his mouthful of pie. “I never thought anyone would describe me as impulsive. But I guess since getting involved with you, it’s brought out that side in me.”
Meredith watched him eat, feeling a bit of youthful mischief coursing through her. Would the Meredith of just a few short months ago, sitting in her city apartment, stressing over deadlines, have recognized the person she is now? She speared a lone blueberry with one tine of her fork and tried to imagine how that conversation with herself would have gone. Yeah, she’d be unrecognizable to herself. Delivering mail for a career, living in a small town, not really caring about money, and playing hooky from her job in the middle of the day to eat pie with a guy. Ridiculous!
Granted, the guy in question was very woodsy, and lumberjack-y, and overall very attractive. Not Old Meredith’s type (previously, she’d gone for ambitious guys who could identify the vintage of a wine in one sip without looking at the label). But New Meredith’s type. And she had to admit, New Meredith had better taste.
She took another bite of pie and watched Robert as he sipped his coffee. She felt so… comfortable. And she realized why - she didn’t feel like being with Robert was a competition. Everything about her old life was a competition, including dating. Meredith used to think that was passion: locking horns with her partner and having loud fights that led to great sex. But thinking back, she realized she was never really happy like that. She’d been anxious and unsettled most of the time, and threw herself into work to burn that off. And heck, maybe that’s why her relationships always ended so spectacularly - blowups and shouting and dramatically ripping the guy's number of out her address book. But sitting here, with Robert, enjoying a slow afternoon, thinking about very little other than her pie, her nerves felt calm.
“Penny for your thoughts?” came Robert’s slightly gruff-sounding voice, cutting through Meredith’s inner dialogue. She met his eyes and she could see the smile behind them. “You’re uh, you’re cute when you’re thinking,” he said.
Meredith blushed a little. “Well,” she started, taking a deep breath. “I was just thinking that this was the best vacation I’ve ever taken. And I’m glad I’m staying. And I’m glad you ran me off the road to come eat pie.”
Robert put down his coffee and reached across the table to hold Meredith’s free hand. His skin felt warm from the cup of coffee he’d been holding, and the warmth spread up her arm and into her stomach, turning and coiling and multiplying until she felt that warmth throughout her whole body. “I’m glad you’re staying too,” he said. He smiled, and she returned it with one of her own.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish this, before it gets cold,” Meredith said, waving her fork at her plate. “Mo will never forgive me if I don’t eat every bite.”
Their hands remained linked as Meredith took another bite of Mo’s renowned blueberry pie, and she was the happiest she’d ever been.