A mini follow-on to this post.

Faith looked around the café as she entered. Marcus was easy to spot, mainly because every woman in the place seemed to eyeing him.

He stood as she walked over to the table he’d chosen and leaned in to kiss her cheek when she arrived, before guiding her into a chair.

He sat down again and she had a chance to take her own view of the man capturing the attention of most of the café clientele.

The muted blue of his Henley shirt seemed to intensify the anything but muted blue of his eyes, and the soft fabric hugged itself to broad shoulders and powerful arms.

His smile beckoned an equally bright one from her.

Before either of them could speak the waitress appeared next to them, giving Faith a slightly miffed once-over.

“What can I get you?”

Marcus looked questioningly at Faith, who ordered a coffee and the café’s famous buttermilk pancakes.

“Ahh, yes, I was being briefed on them before you arrived, I’ll have the same. Thank you.”

The waitress simpered at him, and left.

Marcus rested his arms on the table, “I know we should be doing all the usual, get-to-know-you stuff like jobs and where we grew up and what you like to do on weekends when you’re not being harassed by rugby teams but I am dying to hear more about how on earth you and your sisters ended up with your names.”

Faith laughed, “My parents were expecting a boy every time and didn’t have girls’ names picked out, so they picked mine almost at random, then continued the theme.”

Marcus eyed her, she smiled again, “Yes I have a brother too, his name’s Nicholas.”

“I’m underwhelmed.”

She shrugged, “It’s some big family tradition on Dad’s side. They’re very traditional.”

“So had to have the male heir?”

“Yes, there is that. Nicholas is quite a lot younger than we are, there’s almost three years between him and Chatty and Patty.”

Marcus sputtered, “Chatty and Patty? Is that Charity and Patience?”

“Yes they’re twins, and yes my parents HATE what they’ve done with their names. Hope is backpacking around Australia at the moment and was being called Hops or Hoppy and it’s somehow morphed into Roo. Sadly I’ve yet to find a suitably infuriating nickname so I’m stuck with being the good one.”

“I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

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One thought on “Blue

  1. Pingback: Faith – The DNA of Stories

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