Inside, it’s all vaulted ceilings and dark woods. Stone fireplaces and wooden tables. In one corner there are even pool tables and dart boards.
It’s cozy. I almost feel like I’m in a ski lodge when I take off my jacket and sit on the rounded wooden chair, staring at the water. The water where Jasper and I… well, I don’t know what we were doing.
I look at Jasper and see how he folds his tall, powerful body into a chair that’s too small for him.
He reaches out for one of the burgundy leather-bound menus the waitress is now handing us. Her eyes widen as the tips of his fingers brush against her hand. Even hidden under the brim of his cap, he is recognizable, especially just four hours from Calgary.
-My God. “Hello,” he exhales, looking like a child at Christmas. You are Jasper Gervais. One of his hands falls to his chest, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Jasper smiles kindly at him and bows his head a little.
“Hello,” is all he answers, turning his small smile toward the menu. As is typical for Jasper, he’s friendly, but not that friendly .
Friendly enough that no one can tell you’re rude, but not enough to invite more conversation.
Not that I’ve ever stopped.
“I, ummm…” The girl’s brown eyes flicker between us, trying to read the situation before pointing her finger as if a great idea has occurred to her. I’ll give you a minute with the menus! “She’s cheerful, and I can’t help but notice the pink color in her cheeks when her eyes fall on Jasper again.
She is fascinated and it’s honestly cute.
Jasper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment. He leans over the menu and looks at the options. It surprises me that he is not an easy man to get to know, that he seems closed off to most of the people he knows. Even two-dimensional. But I know him better. I know his humor. I know he loves his family fiercely, and I know he has social anxiety that makes him seem distant to most.
He keeps many things inside him that he never talks about.
-What are you going to order?
I raise my eyes and look at the menu again, full of typical pub dishes.
-A salad.
Jasper raises his head and stares at me, his expression carefully blank, before looking over me, fixating on the shoulder peeking out from the neckline of the thick-knit navy blue sweater I recently bought.
I wonder if he’s about to say something about my food choice. I know I’m thin. Too thin. But after years of fighting to get to the top of our ballet company and being told I had to look a certain way for our wedding, it’s hard to change my mindset. Plus, with everything that’s happened since the wedding, my appetite has been almost non-existent.
He shrugs and looks down again.
-OK.
I continue reading the plastic pages in front of me.
Oooh. They have Buddyz Best on tap.
Fun is evident on his attractive face.
“You can get something better, you know?
I laugh.
-Of course I know it. But I’ve taken a liking to it.
Jasper closes the menu, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. His biceps bulge out of the soft gray knit sweater he’s wearing.
I try not to stare.
“Are you sure you’re not asking for it to be contrary?”
I lean back and mirror his position. His midnight eyes rest briefly on my shoulder before returning to my face.
-No. I love . I bet it tastes different on tap. Even better.
His smile widens.
-Yeah. I’m sure the quality is greatly affected.
I nod.
I wonder if it will be available in bottles.
He snorts.
I’ll have to try all three to make a true judgement.
He leans over the table with a sparkle in his eyes and a small smile on his outlined lips. His fresh scent minty and somewhat earthy, like one of those dried eucalyptus twigs spreads through the room as his long fingers tap the table twice.
New goal for this road trip: try Buddyz Best absolutely everywhere we can. Become true connoisseurs.
I laugh and shake my head as I lean forward. Gravity pulls me towards him and our eyes meet. They dig in so hard I can’t pull mine away. Its dark blues are like a void. They suck me in and, for a split second, everything around us is lost in the rush of blood to my ears.
-Very good! They are ready? The waitress appears next to us.
We both get going and sit up straight.
With a quick clearing of his throat, Jasper recovers.
-Yeah. Sloane, go ahead.
I tuck my hair behind my ears and smile at the girl whose cheeks have turned pink again.
“I’d like a green salad with vinaigrette, please.” I give him the menu back and look at Jasper when he says he’ll have the same.
Although he doesn’t pay any attention to me.
-But I will also order the breaded cod bites and the popcorn chicken.
She nods, smiling so widely my cheeks almost hurt for her.
“I’ll have a pint of Buddyz Best too,” I tell him.
Jasper spreads out his menu.
Let it be a jug.
He reads us the order and runs away. I feel like the rest of the staff are staring at us, but I ignore them. Jasper’s gaze turns my stomach and squeezes my thighs.
I look out the window again at the dark lake and try to collect my thoughts.
Because I’ve been staring at Jasper Gervais since I was ten, and suddenly… he’s staring back at me.
I think popcorn chicken goes better. I lean back in the seat and caress my stomach. Once we had our salads, Jasper made the excellent observation that beer doesn’t pair very well with lettuce. He explained that we wouldn’t be getting the right flavor if we didn’t try it with something appropriately greasy and salty.
Which is how I found myself devouring fried meats and considering their merits while enjoying a second mug of cheap beer that doesn’t taste as good no matter what I pair it with.
What it tastes like, however, is rebellion. And for now, that’s enough for me.