Stella and the Boxer

Chapter 4

I have a busy week ahead of me in my classes, so I spend most of Saturday doing schoolwork. I hate wishing days away, but I can’t help but be excited for Sunday. Charlie said that he would see me soon, and now that he knows I won’t be awkward towards him, surely he’ll be back to the Lighthouse.

When Sunday morning does arrive, I wake up extra early to get ready for work. Even though I’ll just be wearing something basic under my apron, and my hair will be in a ponytail, I want to spend a little extra time trying to look nice.

My long, light auburn hair has a natural wave, but I often opt to use a curling iron, refining the waves into large, loose curls. I do so today, only after pulling it into a higher, slightly perkier ponytail than usual. I spend extra time on my makeup, too, reminding myself repeatedly of the day and time. Sunday mornings and smokey eyes were likely never meant to coexist, save for Saturday night's leftover streaks. 

I throw on a loose, gray t-shirt and dark jeans. After rolling the ends of the sleeves a bit, I decide lastly to wear three of my favorite rings. 

I finish opening the café with enough time to eat some breakfast and have a cup of tea before customers start to arrive. Once I begin taking orders, the café becomes steadily busy. Mr. Miller is helping me behind the counter, but it is nearly eleven o’clock when I finally get a break.

I feel pathetically upset while I sit on my usual stool and allow it to sink in that he likely isn’t coming. I instinctively check my phone, and then I smile, mocking myself, because of course, he doesn’t have my number. And a phone number takes only one space on the countless list of things that I wish I knew about him.

I convince myself that next time I see him, I’ll learn a lot more. I learned so many things in the short, but stressful time that we were together on Friday. I decide to list them, mentally of course, to take my mind off the fact that I probably won’t see him today: 

1.     He lives in a nice little house that is too cute for a boy.

2.     He has a dog, and otherwise lives alone.

3.     His physical strength is truly astonishing. Seeing him lift another man by the shoulders was proved this.

4.     However, he has the sweetest, gentlest disposition.

5.     He has a good sense of humor, but he takes everything to heart.

6.     He has soft hands.

7.     His dark blue eyes calmed me when I should have been afraid for my life.

8.     He saved me.

As I’m finishing the mental list, lingering on number eight, I hear the familiar bell sound coming from the front door and I look up to see Charlie walking towards me with a smile that pulls up slightly more to the right than the left. It’s playful and genuine.

He is wearing dark jeans and a long sleeve grey shirt; we basically match. I've never seen him in anything but athletic wear. He looks casual, but put together.

He holds his phone in one hand and keys and a brown leather wallet in the other and I notice that he, too, is wearing rings.

“Hello Stella, Mr. Miller,” he nods in Mr. Miller’s direction before turning his attention back to me.

“Hi, Charlie,” I love that I can call him by name now. “Would you like your usual?”

He pauses for a second and looks to the ground, running a now free hand through his wavy brown locks. He isn’t wearing his thin headband. His hair looks similar on the sides, but the top is more tousled looking, hanging more closely to his face and sweeping slightly to one side.