Page 2 of Falling in Love with Two

Ronnie is also a serial-dater. As much as she’s on the road, it makes sense for her. She’s a travel photographer who is constantly flying all over the world. Her dating life is perfectly suited to her lifestyle.

Mine, on the other hand, makes me feel like a sad man whore.

Changing the subject, I ask, “So, where are you flying in from?”

“Niagara Falls.”

“How was that?”

“Alright, I guess. Rainy. Gloomy. Not all that different from here in Oregon. Hell, we have a waterfall too. It’s just smaller.”

Only Veronica Lawson could compare Niagara Falls to our small town of Lilly Leaf Falls. Besides the weather, I’m not sure the two could be more different.

But that’s Ronnie. She’s always had her own unique way of thinking.

“Sounds like you didn’t have the best time,” I say.

“Oh, it was fine. I’ve just been so busy that I feel like I’ve been on a plane more than I’ve been on the ground. I just feel a little burnt out. Maybe I need to come home more.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Nah. I’ve got to catch a red-eye later. Dad’s taking me to the airport in a little while.”

“Well, the offer to stay here stands whenever you want. I have the extra rooms now, so you won’t have to crash on the couch.”

She leans back on the couch and crosses one leg over the other. “I appreciate that. I can’t really stay with Liz and Jack anymore since they’re about to have an uninvited guest.”

I let out a loud sigh. “Ronnie, you have to stop referring to it as an uninvited guest. They are having a baby.”

She shrugs. “Same thing.”

“They were trying to have a baby. I’d say that was definitely invited.”

“Why would anybody willingly invite that into their lives?”

Already knowing the answer, I ask, “You never want kids, Ronnie?”

“Absolutely not. Babies are nothing more than little gremlins who ruin your boobs. There’s no way I’m giving up this body for that.”

If Ronnie is anything, it’s blunt.

Putting the attention back on me, she asks, “Did you buy this house to have babies?”

I set my hand over my stomach. “How did you know?”

“Dylan!” She scolds.

“Ronnie, I just got the house so that I could put down some roots.”

“If you want to put down roots, plant a fucking tree.” She throws back her head and chugs what’s left in her glass. It always amazes me how she can take shots of the strongest liquor and not make the slightest face.

That’s how you know she’s a little crazy.

“So, where are you guys going tonight?” She asks.

“I think we are going to The Dells over in Kensington.”

The Dells is a bar in one of the neighboring towns. It’s one where a lot of the young—but not too young crowd goes. The barely 21 crowd tends to frequent more nightclubs, and all the older people go to some of the quieter bars. Being 28, I want something somewhere in the middle.

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