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“Hola, Señora Rosa,” I replied, embracing her warmly. “I’ve missed your amazing enchiladas.”
She chuckled, patting my cheek affectionately. “Always hungry, this one,” she said, nodding towards Paisley, “And who is this lovely señorita?”
“This is Paisley. Paisley, meet Señora Rosa, the heart and soul of this place.”
Paisley extended her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. This place is beautiful.”
Señora Rosa took Paisley's hand, her eyes sparkling, “Thank you, dear. I hope you enjoy the food as much as the company.”
We were led to a cozy corner table with a candle flickering softly in the middle. As we settled in, Señora Rosa recommended some dishes and soon enough, we were feasting on a spread of delicious Mexican delicacies.
Between bites, we talked and laughed, sharing stories of our pasts. Paisley spoke of her love for art and her adventurous spirit, and I told tales of the town’s history, of vineyards and sunlit festivals.
“The town wasn’t always this lively,” I said, scooping up some guacamole. “There was a time when the vineyard was at the heart of everything. Festivals, celebrations, the wine was our pride. Still is, I guess.”
Paisley’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “It must have been beautiful. Sometimes, I feel I was born in the wrong era. I would’ve loved to experience that.”
“You’re experiencing it now,” I replied with a wink. “With a little modern twist.”
The night progressed beautifully, punctuated with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Before we knew it, hours had passed.
Señora Rosa approached our table as we were finishing our desserts. “How was everything?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
“It was delightful, thank you,” Paisley replied, her smile genuine.
“Anytime, dear,” Señora Rosa said, squeezing Paisley's hand. “You’re always welcome here.”
The headlights of my car lit the path ahead as Paisley and I made our way from the cozy Mexican restaurant to the town's local bowling alley. I'd chosen the spot because I wanted the night to be casual and fun. The intensity of dinner had set the perfect stage; now, I hoped to lighten the mood, to let her see the playful side of me, and perhaps unveil more of her own.
As we entered the bowling alley, the familiar sound of pins crashing and the colorful overhead lights set a lively ambiance. A throwback track from the '80s played softly in the background, perfectly complementing the retro vibe of the place.
"Feeling competitive?" I asked Paisley, trying to gauge her comfort level.
She smirked playfully. " Don't expect a pro, but I've been known to throw a strike here and there."
I chuckled. "Challenge accepted."
Just then, Marco's boisterous laugh echoed from the far end of the alley. He was animatedly talking to Lou and Geraldo, while Kim, one of the vineyard's managers, sipped from a large soda.
"Austin! Paisley!" Marco called out, waving us over with an infectious grin. "You made it!"
Geraldo, always the joker, pointed at my shoes and commented, "I see you've got the best bowling shoes on tonight!"
I glanced down at the bright orange and green shoes and laughed. "All in good fun, right?"
Kim, ever the diplomat, added, "It's not about the shoes, it's about the company. Glad you two could join us."
Paisley looked genuinely pleased. "Thanks, Kim. I'm excited to be here."
As the games began, we split into two teams. Paisley and I ended up on the same side, along with Geraldo and Kim. Marco and Lou formed the opposing duo. The friendly competition set a spirited tone for the evening.
Paisley's first roll was, unsurprisingly, a strike. She turned to me with a triumphant grin, her eyes challenging. "Told you I had a few tricks up my sleeve."
Impressed, I replied, "Seems I might've underestimated you." I then took my turn, managing a respectable spare.
The evening flowed effortlessly. Geraldo, always the entertainer, managed to bowl a gutter ball and then, in his next turn, a strike, leaving us all in splits. Kim, quiet and composed, surprised us all with her consistent spares.
At one point, Marco decided to bowl backward between his legs, causing a wave of laughter throughout the alley. And Lou, ever competitive, kept a running commentary, celebrating each point as if it was a winning goal in the World Cup.
