Maggie Walters was the kind of person who could make a smoothie recipe sound like the most important thing on earth. "You’ve got to add just the right amount of spinach," she’d say, staring into the blender like it was the Oracle of Delphi. "Too much and you taste the guilt. Too little and, well, it's just a fruit salad pretending to be healthy." But today, as the hum of the blender vibrated through her ears, she wasn’t thinking about spinach. She wasn’t thinking about anything. She was thinking about Josh. Josh. The Josh. The man who’d spilled a whole iced coffee on her white dress at their first encounter—while simultaneously asking her to marry him. A mishap, yes, but it had happened with such perfect timing, it could only be described as "romantic comedy gold." He’d apologized, of course, in the least apologetic way possible. "I swear this wasn't on purpose," he'd said, as if their entire relationship was an elaborate setup for a punchline. Maggie wasn’t sure if she loved him or just the ridiculousness of him, but either way, she'd fallen headfirst into what could only be called a very awkward, very loving disaster. Today, however, she was doubting her choices. Josh had promised he’d come by the smoothie shop—she’d opened it two months ago, after quitting her less-than-glamorous job as a professional umbrella holder. Yes, really. "Hey, you hold these, I’ll run errands," was basically her job description. But after 45 minutes of doing precisely nothing but standing in the rain, she’d decided life had more to offer. Which brought her here: a quirky little smoothie shop, the smell of bananas and crushed ice drifting through the air. Everything was perfect, save for one small thing. Josh was late. Again. The door swung open with the sound of a bell that had clearly been designed to sound like a cow mooing. The last thing Maggie wanted was for Josh to waltz in looking like he’d just stepped out of a rom-com montage with his perfectly tousled hair, wearing his "I don’t care, but I do" smirk. She looked up. It wasn’t Josh. It was an elderly woman, pushing a shopping cart stuffed with fresh kale and—was that—yoga mats? She smiled kindly at Maggie, holding up a granola bar like it was some kind of offering. Maggie stared at her, internally debating whether she should smile politely or ask if she'd accidentally wandered into a wellness cult meeting. "Uh, can I help you?" The woman squinted at her, as if trying to recall Maggie’s face from some distant memory. "Are you the smoothie girl who loves pineapple?" she asked, as though that was a question that would make sense to anyone who wasn’t wearing a tiara made of kale leaves. Maggie blinked, unsure how to respond. "I—uh, I do like pineapple. I mean, who doesn’t? It’s, like, the queen of fruits." The woman nodded, sagely. "I’ll take one of those, then." She handed over a crumpled five-dollar bill that looked like it had been in a few too many yoga poses. Maggie fumbled with the register, trying to calculate how to make a smoothie that would keep this eccentric woman happy. Meanwhile, in the corner of the shop, a familiar voice rang out like a foghorn. “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME,” Josh shouted, arms flailing as he sprinted toward the counter, knocking over a display of coconut water and nearly tripping over the yoga mats. Maggie groaned internally. There he was. In his finest disaster form. “You’re late,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter with a sarcastic grin. Josh stopped in his tracks, his face going pale. "I... I ran into a raccoon," he said, completely serious. “It stole my wallet. I had to wrestle it for twenty minutes.” “Did you… get your wallet back?” “No, it bit me and took off with it,” he admitted, looking like a child who had just lost his favorite toy. "But don’t worry, I still have my credit card." Maggie couldn’t help herself. She burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. "A raccoon? Seriously? You’re like a walking rom-com disaster!" Josh smiled, sheepish but proud. "You know it’s true love when you get robbed by an animal." Before Maggie could respond, the elderly woman spoke again, her voice cutting through the chaos like a sage in the middle of a storm. "He’s right, you know. Raccoons? They’re very symbolic. They’re like little bandits, taking away your baggage." Maggie and Josh turned to her, utterly confused. "Do you want me to add spinach to that smoothie?" Maggie asked, her voice dripping with the sarcasm she knew Josh loved. The old woman nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Make it with love... and spinach." As Josh stared at Maggie, one eyebrow raised, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill. "I'll pay for this one," he said with an exaggerated bow. "For the raccoon. And for you. For not dumping me after my... unfortunate run-in." Maggie looked at him, her heart doing that thing it always did when he said something so ridiculous yet so heartfelt. She almost reached across the counter to give him a kiss. Almost. But then she remembered the last time he tried to kiss her, he knocked over a blender full of strawberry puree and splattered it all over her shoes. Instead, she raised an eyebrow. "Only if you promise not to get attacked by any more animals today. I’m not running a wildlife rescue." Josh grinned. "Deal. But just to warn you—if a squirrel shows up and demands a smoothie, I’m not paying for it." And, just like that, they fell back into their awkward, ridiculous rhythm—half love, half chaos, with a generous helping of spinach.