Page 46 of Center Sneak

Isn’t he upset that he’s stuck with me a little longer?

Cal pushes open the door and holds it for me as I pass him. His hands are plastered in his jeans pockets as we walk side by side back to our inn.

“Now what?” I ask.

“Maybe we should check out? See if the hotel can hold our bags again until the car is ready?”

“Uh, yeah.” That’s smart. That’s what we should do.

* * *

And that’s what we do. Twenty minutes later, the front desk clerk happily tucks our bags behind the desk, and now we are awkwardly standing in the lobby.

“Want to grab a bite to eat?” Calvin asks, hands once again tucked in his jeans pockets.

“Sure. I could eat.”

“Do you want to eat here, or wander the streets until we find something?”

“I could wander.” I’m not too hungry, and it would be nice to discover more of this small beach town.

We turn the corner from the inn and stroll along the street filled with quaint shops.

There are a few beach-themed gift shops with funny T-shirts in the window, but we don’t step in.

Our pace is slow, but the street is quiet, with no passengers rushing us along.

We stumble upon a coffee shop and café.

“Want to check this out?” Calvin says, pointing to the teal front door.

“Sure,” I say with a shrug. Apparently, I’m starting to mimic Cal now.

We enter the cozy coffee shop with a seashell fireplace as the centerpiece. We turn toward the counter and stare at the chalkboard menu above the countertop. There’s a mix of breakfast and sandwich options, but there’s one option that stands in a glass case.

“Do you know what that is?” I point to a black donut, but that’s not quite the right word, as there’s no hole.

“Oh, that’s a Boston cream donut.” He tilts his head. “You’ve never had one?”

“No. I haven’t,” I admit, feeling a bit silly that I had no idea what it was. I’ve heard of said donut before, but haven’t seen one in person yet, despite living in Massachusetts for five years. I don’t go out much, at least to coffee shops and restaurants. I’m either at the foundation or walking to my apartment one door down.

“You should try one.”

“Maybe I will.” Maybe I should expand my horizons and enjoy life for once.

We ponder the menu for another minute before ordering. I settle on a coffee and a Boston cream donut, and Calvin orders the same but with some fruit as well.

Our drinks are served first, and a few minutes later, we grab our food from the corner of the countertop and find two seats near the large glass windows overlooking the small downtown.

Calvin reaches into his brown paper bag and pulls out his donut and fruit, and lays them down in front of him.

“Balance,” he says with a wink.

“Love a good balance.” I bite into my donut as the thick beige filling spills out. “Oh my God, that’s divine.” The donut is sweet and creamy with a touch of chocolate, too. “Now that’s the perfect balance,” I retort.

Calvin takes a bite of his donut. “Sure is.”

We pound down our food, but then take our time sipping our coffees with easy conversation until I swallow the last drop, now lukewarm .