A BRUSH WITH FATE

The following days at The Maple Café felt interminably long for Raymond. Each morning, he awoke with a flutter of hope in his chest, half-expecting to see Joan walk through the door again. He replayed their brief encounter in his mind, savoring every detail—the way her laughter danced in the air and how her eyes sparkled like stars. Yet, as the hours dragged on, reality settled in like an unwelcome guest. Joan hadn't returned.

Raymond poured himself into his work, trying to distract himself from the gnawing disappointment. He brewed coffee, served pastries, and chatted with regulars, all while his thoughts drifted to the girl who had captivated him so completely. He found himself sketching her likeness on napkins during quiet moments—capturing the curve of her smile and the gentle tilt of her head. Each stroke of his pencil was a testament to the impact she had made on him in such a short time.

One Thursday afternoon, as he was restocking the pastry display, his co-worker Lisa approached him, her expression curious. "You've been awfully quiet lately, Ray. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just…thinking," he replied, forcing a smile.

Lisa raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about that girl you were talking to last week? The one with the beautiful smile?"

Raymond felt his cheeks heat up. "I wouldn't say talking. More like…briefly meeting."

"Come on! You should ask her out," Lisa encouraged, leaning against the counter. "You clearly liked her. What's stopping you?"

"I don't know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What if she doesn't feel the same way? What if I make a fool of myself?"

"Life's too short for 'what ifs,'" Lisa replied, crossing her arms. "You never know unless you try. Just be yourself."

Raymond nodded but felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. The thought of rejection loomed large, casting a shadow over his budding feelings for Joan. Still, as he continued to work, Lisa's words echoed in his mind, igniting a flicker of determination.

That evening, after closing up the café, Raymond decided to take a different route home—a path that led past the local art supply store. He had frequented the shop many times before, but today felt different; he hoped that perhaps he might catch a glimpse of Joan there. As he walked, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

Upon reaching the art supply store, he hesitated outside for a moment, summoning his courage before stepping inside. The familiar scent of paint and canvas enveloped him like a warm hug. He wandered through the aisles, admiring the vibrant colors and textures that surrounded him.

As he perused a shelf filled with sketchbooks, he suddenly heard a familiar voice from the next aisle over. "Excuse me, do you have any recommendations for watercolor paints?"

Raymond's heart leaped as he turned to see Joan standing there, her face lighting up with recognition. "Joan!" he exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement.

"Raymond!" she replied, her smile widening. "What a coincidence!"

They stood there for a moment, both slightly breathless from the surprise of seeing each other again. Raymond felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over him—this was his chance.

"I'm glad I ran into you," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I was just thinking about you."

"Oh really?" Joan said playfully, raising an eyebrow. "Were you planning on stalking me at the art store?"

Raymond laughed nervously. "No! Well, maybe? I just wanted to see if you were here."

"I'm actually taking an art class," she explained, her enthusiasm palpable. "We're working on a project that involves watercolors."

"That sounds amazing! I love painting," he replied, feeling more at ease.

"Do you?" she asked, genuinely interested. "What do you usually paint?"

"Mostly landscapes and portraits," he said, feeling emboldened by their conversation. "But I've been trying to branch out lately."

Joan's eyes sparkled with interest. "I'd love to see your work sometime!"

The invitation hung in the air between them like an unspoken promise. Raymond's heart raced at the thought of sharing his art with her—a glimpse into his soul.

"Would you…maybe want to grab coffee after you finish shopping?" he ventured cautiously.

Her smile widened even further, and for a moment, Raymond held his breath as he awaited her response.

"I'd love that!" she said enthusiastically. "Let me just grab my paints."

As she turned to pick out her supplies, Raymond fought back a wave of elation. They chatted easily about their favorite artists and styles while they made their selections. It felt as though they had known each other for years rather than mere minutes.

Once they had paid for their items and stepped outside into the cool evening air, Raymond led them to a nearby park where they could sit and enjoy their drinks in peace.

They found a bench under a large oak tree that rustled gently in the breeze. As they sat down, Raymond felt an overwhelming sense of contentment wash over him. This was what he had been waiting for—an opportunity to connect with someone who seemed to understand him in ways he hadn't yet discovered himself.

"So tell me more about your art class," he prompted, eager to learn more about her passion.

Joan animatedly described her instructor's unique teaching style and how she had been experimenting with different techniques. Her enthusiasm was infectious; Raymond found himself hanging on every word.

As the sun began to set behind them, casting long shadows across the ground, they shared stories about their lives—Joan's dreams of becoming an illustrator and Raymond's aspirations of showcasing his work in galleries someday.

Time slipped away unnoticed until they realized that darkness had enveloped them. The park lights flickered on, casting a soft glow around them.

"I can't believe how fast time flew by," Joan said softly, glancing at her watch. "I should probably get going."

"Yeah," Raymond replied reluctantly. "But I'm really glad we met again."

"Me too," she said with sincerity as she stood up from the bench. "This was really nice."

As they walked back toward their respective cars parked nearby, Raymond felt a surge of courage rise within him once more. He turned to her and said, "Can I have your number? I'd love to keep in touch."

"Of course!" Joan replied enthusiastically as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him.

Raymond quickly typed in his number before handing it back to her with a grin that felt like sunshine breaking through clouds.

"Text me anytime," she said warmly before stepping back slightly as if savoring the moment.

"I will," he promised, feeling giddy with excitement.

With one last lingering glance at each other, they parted ways—Raymond's heart soaring as he replayed their evening together in his mind like a cherished memory.

As he walked home under the starlit sky, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something beautiful—a brush with fate that might lead him down an entirely new path.