Ailana’s Journal: Part 2—2026-07-04 (Patreon)

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SECOND DATE by Sofia Torres

Just like he said he would, Ryan Page called and asked me out for Saturday. I said yes.

I thought about how the whole date came to be and figured I really must have come off like a stalker. The first time we met, he happened to see me and thought I was in distress. Every time after that, I was the one approaching him—even about the flashlight-bulb thing.

Nevertheless, I thought I’d add a little layer of safety to the date, so I decided I’d drive. That felt a little less vulnerable to me, so I told him I’d pick him up.

I gassed up the Corona, made sure I hadn’t left any laundry in the back seat, and headed to Los Fresnos.

The date went well. We went to South Padre Island and had dinner at Cafe On The Beach. After dinner, we walked, talked, and ended up sitting on the sand watching the waves. We agreed that we had a good time.

But there were surprises.

To be sure, nothing happened that would keep me from looking forward to a third date—and plenty happened to make me hope it will be soon. He already agreed we could go back to the Tuesday Bible fellowship, so maybe something good is happening.

So, the date was good, but like I said, there were surprises.

The rest of this chapter is exclusive to Patreon.

I got to his address and double-checked it. It’s a really nice house not far from the SwimFit factory. It’s in a new neighborhood just south of East Ocean Boulevard, off Rodeo Drive. The house is all brick, with a two-car garage and a nice entryway.

It didn’t look like something someone working a retail job could afford, but the address was right, so I parked and headed to the door.

Ryan opened the door with a smile. I could see past him into the empty—literally empty—living room. No furniture.

Beyond the living room was an eating area with what looked like a very nice table and four matching chairs. There was even an arrangement of—I guess—silk flowers in a pretty vase.

Living room? Nothing.

“Let me grab my house keys,” Ryan said. “Come in if you wish.”

He left the door open and I stepped inside. I could see down the hall and guessed it was a three-bedroom house. When he went into the bedroom at the end of the hall, I could see a big desk with computers set up, but I suppose the bed and the rest of the furniture were out of sight.

He was back in a few seconds. “All set.”

“Nice house,” I said. “Really…”

He smiled. “It works for me. Thank you.”

I decided to point out the obvious. “You have no living room furniture.”

“I wouldn’t use it. If I bought something, it would just be for show, and that seems…” He shrugged. “…like a waste of effort.”

I actually thought that sounded smart. “I like that… Why waste money on something you don’t need?”

So we got in the car and I wanted to ask how a Walmart guy could afford such a nice place to live. However, I didn’t ask that.

“So you’re from New York…” I remembered what he had told me over dinner on Tuesday. “How did you end up in Los Fresnos?”

“You won’t believe me,” he replied.

“Now, I’m intrigued!”

“Well, let’s get going, and I’ll answer. I’d like to try Cafe On The Beach over on the Island. How does that sound?”

He smiled. “Long version or short version?”

“Let’s start with the short.”

“I had AI create a program to randomly pick somewhere for me to move.”

“Okay, maybe the long version would be better.”

As we started over the causeway, Ryan started his story. “My dad’s sixty-one and my mom’s fifty-nine. Dad worked hard all his life and did well. Two years ago, he had a heart attack. The physical damage wasn’t severe, but it changed him.”

Ryan went on to say that not long before the heart attack, his parents had put some money in his name. “I was twenty-five, and they figured they could help set me up and give me a start at managing my own affairs. After the heart attack, Dad called me into the living room with big news.”

Ryan’s parents retired and joined an agency that does missions work in South America. His dad does light construction work, such as painting and small repairs. His mother works in clinics and with orphans.

“Before they left, Dad sat me down to explain something he thought was important. He said I shouldn’t worry about making a lot of money. I should focus on making a life first.”

I was honestly moved. “That’s… good advice. Really…”

“I’m still trying to learn what that means,” Ryan replied. “I try to do something nice for someone every day…I’m not sure what Dad meant by making a life.”

“Have you asked?”

He nodded. “Dad says I’ll know it when I know it. Not really helpful. But I try to do…I don’t know—be a good Boy Scout and do a daily good deed.”

I think I knew what he meant about doing good deeds.

When we were at the Bible fellowship meeting, a guy about my age and his wife made a beeline for Ryan to thank him for helping them move a mattress and foundation in his truck. Ryan had been cutting it close getting to Walmart, so he hurried away before they had a chance to thank him.

We were working our way through the streets of South Padre Island and I asked again about how he got to Los Fresnos.

“I got the idea that Dad was saying the direction I was going wasn’t the right one. He all but said I’d end up with a heart attack if I followed in his footsteps. I decided to just start over.”

Now, I’d say there’s nothing wrong with Los Fresnos, but it’s not the kind of place someone in New York looks up on a map and says, “There! That’s where I’m moving.”

Ryan finally answered my original question. “So I pulled up Copilot and ChatGPT and gave them a task. I told them I was tired of New York City weather and wanted somewhere much warmer in the winter. Then I had each of them randomly generate three latitude-and-longitude pairs that met the weather restrictions.”

“So then what?”

“I had a list of six coordinate pairs, so I rolled a die to pick one. The closest incorporated community was Los Fresnos. The actual spot on the map is south of town, between Dana-Tule Reservoirs 1 and 2.”

I’m sure I was staring. “You rolled a dice and picked a coordinate from a list that AI created, and… moved here?”

“I told my parents, and Mom said, ‘This is the first truly irrational thing you’ve ever done. This is exactly the kind of thing you need to reset your thinking.’”

“And they were okay with it?” I’m sure I looked skeptical.

“Dad said, ‘Try it for a few years and see what happens. Maybe you’ll figure out what’s really important.’”

“Have you?” I asked. “Have you figured out what’s really important?”

“It hasn’t even been a year. I’m working on it.”

We didn’t say anything as I parked. Then I looked at him. “You know all this makes me, the stalker girl, seem like the normal person, right?”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

Dinner talk turned back to me and my life. I told him more about how I grew up in Matamoros.

“I finished preparatoria in Matamoros in 2019. I was good at school—especially anything organized or numbers-based—but university wasn’t really an option financially.

“So I went to work in a clothing factory. I started on the line, and after a while they trusted me with more. I was checking quality, tracking production, helping train people and keeping a small group on schedule. They never officially called me a manager, but I was doing some of that work. The factory also sent me through short courses in quality control, production tracking and team coordination.”

Ryan nodded and took a guess. “That’s what qualified you to manage the factory here?”

“I suppose so,” I replied. “But that came just a little while ago. Back in Mexico, I liked knowing I was good at it, but there wasn’t much room to move up, and the pay had stopped improving.

“But my aunt María had started the immigration process for me years earlier. When everything finally came through, I moved to Brownsville in August 2025 as a permanent resident. It wasn’t because I had some huge American dream. I wanted stability, safer work and a future I could plan around.”

While I talked, Ryan listened. He didn’t interrupt to tell me what I should have done differently or suggest some better path I could have taken. He didn’t try to turn my story into a problem he could solve.

He just listened.

I hadn’t realized how much I would appreciate that. Sometimes people hear that you struggled and immediately begin explaining how they would have handled it better. Ryan asked questions when he wanted to understand something, but he never made me feel like I needed to defend the choices I had made.

For a man who was still trying to figure out his own life, he seemed very comfortable letting me be the expert on mine.

“You got here about the same time I did,” Ryan replied.

I went on to tell him about my job before SwimFit. “Dollar General was the job I could get quickly. It was simpler than what I was doing before, but the pay was steady. It was enough for San Benito. I even sent some money to my folks. Now, with my new job, I’m doing really well.”

“I’m happy to hear that, but if you’ll let me, I’ll play the gentleman and pay for our date. It seems like a good way to start things.”

I liked the idea of “starting things,” so of course I agreed. Over the meal, he asked for more details about my work in Mexico and at SwimFit.

Along the way, somehow, it came out that his house was paid for, and all he had to cover was taxes and utilities. I suppose that was what he meant by his parents setting him up to manage his own affairs.

“So Walmart is enough for that?”

He nodded. “Even with the Dairy Queen habit!”

After our meal, we decided to walk out on the beach a little. Somehow we got on the topic of the World Cup and FIFA, then he told me a lot about the mission work his parents were doing.

What stayed with me was not only what we talked about, but the way Ryan listened. Even when I spoke about work, family, and starting over in a new country, he never tried to improve my choices or tell me what I should do next. He asked questions because he wanted to understand me, then let my answers be enough.

He also did not seem afraid of a little silence. There were moments when neither of us said anything, and he did not rush to fill them or turn them into something awkward.

I liked that more than I expected. It made being with him feel peaceful.

I’ve not been on any other real American dates, but I think this was what they are normally like. As I said we ended up walking to the beach and sitting until it was getting dark.

On the way back to his house, we talked about going on another date—not counting the Tuesday Bible Fellowship. We brainstormed things that would be fun.

When we got to his house, I think the normal American date feeling got lost to the fact I was driving. I didn’t know if I should walk him to the door or not, but I did get out and we hugged in the driveway.

I stood and watched as he went inside, then I drove myself home.

I’ll be processing all of this for days! I wonder what Jasmine will think about it all.

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