Stories from Naoh’ra Rabntah

The First Date

Matt was early. Twenty minutes early, which was about fifteen minutes past what anyone would call reasonable.

He claimed a booth near the window, already finished his first coffee and ordered a second one. His knee bounced under the table until he caught it. Every time the door opened, his eyes went to it. Every time it wasn’t her, they went back to the window.

The door opened again. Lucy walked in. Same crooked smile from last week, except this time it was aimed directly at him.

Matt had lost this date before it even started.

“Lieutenant Hartfield,” she said. “Early bird.”

“Didn’t see the point in being late.”

“Still got that dry humor, huh?”

“Still got that tone like you’re about to dare me to do something stupid.”

Lucy grinned. “Old habits.”

Small talk carried the first few minutes. The menu got some mild abuse. The weather got acknowledged.

“So. Your family doing okay?” Matt said.

“Yeah,” Lucy said. “Anna’s married, has a baby now.”

“Already?”

“Seven months old and already running the house. My dad’s completely obsessed—he’s got this whole photo album he carries around like it’s state evidence.”

“Sounds like him.”

“Your uncle still building things that don’t need to exist?”

“Yup. Last month it was a custom tool rack for the garden hose.”

“A rack. For a hose.”

“Welded steel. Powder-coated.”

“Of course he did.”

“You remember my kid brother, Danny?”

“The one you never could shut up about?”

He gave a small, self-satisfied nod. “Yeah. He’s doing great. Top of his class, which is honestly terrifying.”

“How old is he now?”

“Twelve. Started high school this year.”

“No way. Last I heard, he was still in pull-ups.”

“Yeah, now he’s building computers from scratch and correcting my logic.”

“Time is fake.”

“Objectively true.”

The light through the window had gone from afternoon to late. Gaps between topics sat fine. Around them, the café filled and thinned.

“Can’t believe we’ve both been in the same town this whole time,” she said.

“Yeah. Somehow.”

“I always assumed you’d end up somewhere else. Bigger city, maybe.”

“Thought about it. But this worked.”

The boy she remembered played baseball and didn’t talk much. The man across the booth was now a rescue squad lieutenant.

“So, tell me. Why firefighting?”

Matt leaned back, one arm along the back of the booth.

“Seemed like a pretty cool job,” he said casually.

“That’s it?”

Lucy didn’t remember. Matt did.

“It made sense.” He shrugged. “Solid work, good structure. You’re part of something that matters.”

“Look at you, sounding almost noble.”

Matt bit back the smile. “So… you teach middle school. What subject?”

“History,” Lucy said, and waited.

“Seriously?”

“Blame your fifth grade military campaign.”

“You’re telling me all that backyard diplomacy actually stuck?”

“Oh, it stuck,” she said. “You had me memorizing flanking formations and drawing up ceasefire agreements in chalk. I figured I should at least learn where all that stuff actually came from.”

“Huh. I always thought I was just annoying.”

“You were,” Lucy said, raising her mug. “But you were also weirdly convincing.”

He tapped his coffee against hers. “Glad to know I was accidentally educational.”

They stayed longer than either of them planned. A few more old stories surfaced. When they finally got up to leave, it was as easy as if they did this all the time.

Outside, Lucy glanced sideways at him.

“So,” she said, “you still think it’s a cool job?”

Matt gave her a sidelong look.

“I think,” he said, “I look damn good in uniform.”

Lucy barked a laugh and bumped his arm with her shoulder.

“Oh my god. Who are you?”

Unfortunately for Lucy, he wasn’t wrong. She’d seen it for herself.

Matt walked beside her. He hadn’t stopped grinning since.

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