Page 25 of Unexpecting

″So,” David said, handing me the glass. I’m careful not to touch his hand. “Long time.”

″Too long,” I said, and immediately regretted sounding like bad movie dialogue.

We talked about the dogs for a while until David asked how I’d been. I told him about my teaching and where I’m living. I told him about Cooper, but left out J.B., since I felt weird talking about him.

And I didn’t want my weirdness to ruin this wonderful comfort I was starting to feel with David. It was always so nice with him—we never ran out of things to talk about. David told me about his job, the traveling he’d done, and how much he loved living in the Beaches. I was not hearing any mention of a girlfriend, and the thought perked me up immensely.

″Um, do you mind—can I use…” I asked awkwardly, after a Pepsi and two glasses of water. Pretty soon I was going to have to start crossing my legs.

″Bathroom’s the first door down the hall.” David smiled, motioning to the hallway off the dining room area.

“Thanks.” This was also a good time for a reconnaissance mission. I have the quickest pee on record, and then used the running water to mask the sound of me opening the cupboard doors. I found nothing more exciting than towels, extra shampoo, and toilet paper in there. Razor, toothbrush, and toothpaste in the medicine cabinet, and a bottle of Tylenol and a little jar of Tiger Balm. And only a box of condoms and a tube of KY under the sink. Okay, nothing surprising. David has sex. Did I expect him to live like a nun? Or I guess a monk since he is a guy. The main thing I discovered was that I didn’t discover any evidence of a woman. Good to know.

I came out of the bathroom with a big smile on my face to find David back in the kitchen.

″Are you hungry, Casey? I’m starving. Want a turkey sandwich?” He held up a package of deli meat.

″Um, sure, but look, I can get out of here if you have things to do.”

“I thought we were going to hang out. I have absolutely nothing else I need to be doing,” David assured me with a smile, while slathering mayo on whole-wheat bread.

″That’d be great,” I said shyly.

After the sandwich—not up to Cooper’s standards, but tasty nonetheless—David suggested a walk on the beach. At the word walk, Oscar instantly woke up, and Jack, the Jack Russell, got all yippy so that decided it for me. David clipped on the leashes, and I took Oscar as we hit the boardwalk, talking all the while.

After my calves began to beg for mercy—my infrequent exercise regime has long fallen by the wayside—we dropped the dogs at the house, headed to Queen Street, and walked along the shops. Eventually, David expressed hunger again and took me to his favourite pub for an early dinner.

″So no wife or babies yet?” I asked after our food was brought to the table. I toyed with the chicken in my Caesar salad. I had to ask. I’d waited too long, and besides, I did get to spend the day with him.

″None for me. You?” David smiled.

I shook my head, trying to mask my huge exhale of breath. “No, not yet. Soon, I hope. Real soon.”

″Me too,” he admitted, finishing his beer. “Does the biological clock start ticking for men, you think?”

″Maybe.” There were changes in David, I noticed. I knew there would be something, but it’s nothing bad. He seemed more open and less reticent since I last saw him, but that could just be because he was excited to see me. And he did seem excited to see me. I’d been very encouraged by that.

David’s face was tanned. He looked well with colour in his thin face, but it also accentuated the fine lines in the corners of his brown eyes. He’d aged, but then again, so had I. He’d matured, I decided as he told me about some place in Central Asia he wanted to visit next year, but hopefully so had I. We were kids when we were together. We grew up together, as much as you can grow up in your early twenties. He was my first love, and I know I was his first lover. He was ready to share his life with me, and I gave him the boot because of a childish, spur-of-the-moment reason.

″I have to ask,” David began with a smirk on his face, like he could read my thoughts. “How was Europe?”

″Oh, God,” I blurted out, slapping my hands to my face to hide my embarrassment. “Oh, David, I’m so sorry!”

David waved his hand at me and laughed. “No, no, don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have brought it up. Ancient history, water under the bridge; I won’t bring it up again.”

I wanted him to bring it up. I wanted to tell him breaking up with him was the stupidest thing I had ever done and I’d regretted it every day since. But I didn’t say anything because I’m a coward and because Daviddidn’t seem to be bothered by discussing how I broke his heart all those years ago. I’d be bothered if the situation were reversed. And now I was bothered because he was not bothered. I felt a sharp twinge of unease as I told him about my sister Libby and the girls.

″I can’t believe how much I’ve missed you,” David told me after dinner, with some surprise in his voice. I told him I should be going, and he walked me back to my car. The street was quiet, and I could see the lights just beginning to prick on through the leaves of the trees. Queen Street and all its bustle was barely discernible. It would be a nice place to live.

″Me too,” I told him.

″Look, I really don’t want you to drop out of my life again.” David leaned in the car window and looked imploringly at me. “Let’s get together again. How about tomorrow night? There’s a new Jennifer Garner movie out.”

″Okay!” I said with a little too much excitement for a simple movie invite. “I want to see that.” I remembered our movie dates. David and I used to go at least once a week, sometimes twice, always sitting in “our seats” in the middle of the theatre, with a large order of popcorn and bag of Fuzzy Peaches to share, a 7-Up for him and a Pepsi for me. David was the only man I know who admits to enjoying a good romantic comedy, the typical “chick flicks.” When teased, he used to say taking me to see them would get him laid, but I knew the truth. His movie collection contained every one of Meg Ryan’s movies.

″Can I pick you up around seven, then?”

″Sure… no! No, I’ll… meet you there. Yonge and Eglinton okay with you?”

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