Page 48 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

Soon he pulled into the parking lot at the Brentwood Marina, and I said, “The date’shere?”

“What?” he asked. “You weren’t expecting a fine-dining nautical experience?”

I relaxed my brow. “It doesn’t seem very Tyler Griffen, farm boy from Texas with the cutest southern twang.”

He chuckled, the sound melting me from the inside out. “It’s Tyler Griffen, formerly landlocked redneck who wants to impress the most beautiful girl in California.”

My eyelids drifted closed with my smile, and I shook my head. “You are no redneck, you southern charmer.”

“On that note, let me keep up my good streak and get your door.”

He got out and walked to my side of the truck, and once I was on the pavement, he offered his elbow to me. I looped my hands through, linking my fingers around his solid arm. For a moment, I leaned my temple against his strong shoulder and pretended I was one of those girls who’d been doing this all the time. The kind of girl who had no lack of dates for Friday night and was always treated like a gem. That’s how Tyler made me feel, and I was high on the experience. High on him.

He led us to a boat with cursive writing on the front. It saidThe Daydreamer. I smiled at the name. How apt.

A worker dressed in a white suit extended his arm in a welcoming gesture and said, “Welcome aboard.”

24

Tyler

As we stepped aboard the yacht I’d reserved for our first date, there was plenty to draw my attention, but all I could focus on was Henrietta. Her eyes were awestruck at the splendor of the boat. And me? Well, I was enamored with her. Seeing everything through her eyes made it feel like the first time.

The maître d’, who introduced himself as Jacob, led us to an elaborately decorated table on the deck overlooking the water. Sailboats dotted the horizon, interrupting the space where turquoise water met soft orange sky.

I missed Texas sunsets, all the bright colors meeting waving prairie grass, but this view, reflected in Henrietta’s eyes? It had to be my favorite.

“It’s beautiful out here,” she said as she sat down. “I don’t think I’ve been on a yacht except for my ten-year reunion.”

“They had it on a yacht?” I asked. “My class’s reunion was in the school parking lot and involved coolers full of beer.”

She nodded with a smile. “Had to make sure we wouldn’t escape.”

“You’d want to escape? Seems like high school would have been a breeze for you. You’re so easy to talk to.”

She laughed. “Being just as tall and bigger than most of the guys at my school didn’t do me any social favors.”

I shook my head, hating to admit it probably would have been the same at my high school. “When you’re young and dumb, different things seem important. And then you grow up.”

“True,” she said, scrunching her nose in the cutest way. “I’m sure you were the star at your school.”

I laughed. “In Cottonwood Falls, you go to school with the same kids from the time you’re in kindergarten to graduation. They all remembered my awkward younger years.”

“We all have awkward younger years,” she replied.

“My mom had to drive me to Dallas for therapy because I was so shy, I wouldn’t even talk to the teacher.”

Now it was her turn to be surprised. “You seem so confident, easygoing.”

“Three decades of practice,” I replied.

Jacob brought out some wine for us, pouring our glasses full of rosé. They hadn’t offered Cupcake on the menu, but I hoped this would be close enough.

She took a cautious sip, her expression thoughtful.

“As good as Cupcake?” I asked.

She hesitated before shaking her head, and I laughed.

---