Page 18 of A Me and Him Thing
I give in. “Okay, I won’t run there anymore. I just moved to this area of Portland. I didn’t know about the jogging paths inthe park. Show them to me.” Funny Ren is completely gone, his face a hard mask. “Ren?”
He lets out his breath and nods. “Okay.”
We start to run again, and I’m reminded that I really don’t know this man at all.
“Sorry I got all intense on you,” he says after a few minutes.
“That’s okay. Ax murderers are psychopaths. I expected weird behavior from you. Just promise me one thing.”
“Whatever you want,” he says.
I’m glad he can’t read my mind because “whatever I want” would make him blush. “There will be no ‘Here’s Johnny’ moments.”
In response, Ren simply laughs. Best sound ever.
“How early were you up this morning?” I’m actually a morning person, but not after only a few hours of sleep.
“Crack of dawn. Spent the morning with my kids, watching cartoons on Netflix and binge eating sugary cereal.”
“The spoon was in your hands.” Love throwing that joke back in his face.
“It was. No one to blame but myself.”
Between pancakes and sweetened cereal, I’m surprised he’s not in a sugar-induced coma. “No wonder you wanted to get your run in today.”
“Yep, I could feel fat cells planning a party. I had to nip them in the bud before they got out of hand.”
There’s not an ounce of fat on him. When he runs in front of me, the view is pretty darn good too. It’s impossible not to notice.
“You’re a busy guy, aren’t you?” I comment, thinking about how hard it must be for him to divide his time between work and family.
“Life’s a little crazy for me right now. I’m at the restaurant six days a week. Between that and my family, I don’t have muchspare time. Sunday is family day, giving me time to give my children the attention they deserve. I refuse to answer my phone on Sundays, just so you know.”
I wasn’t planning on calling him. This is his show. I’m just along for the ride, seeing where it will take me. I’m enjoying the feeling of being pursued. So refreshing. Even if I’m just being pursued as a friend. He sure made that clear. Yet he also made it clear he’s a fan of adoption, which implies a serious relationship. So which is it? Friend or happy couple with kids?
Look at that. We’re already a conflicted couple after just meeting last night.
We’re quiet for the majority of our run, keeping our breathing as even as possible. The silent camaraderie is nice. When we’ve completed our five miles for the day, we walk for a bit to cool down. Then we decide to take a break on a park bench.
But before we do, Ren says, “Hang on a sec.”
Then he checks the bench to ensure it’s stable on all four legs, and uses a stick to shoo away non-existent spiderwebs. He even checks the wooden planks with his foot to make sure they’re not rotten.
“Okay, we’re good. Portland weather is hard on wood. It rots easily.”
Huh. Chivalry is not dead. Chivalryisa little weird, though.
I try my best to ignore what just happened, but I can’t. “Are you some kind of Safety Nazi?”
He places his sunglasses on his head and squints at me. “Say what?”
Sweat drips down my back, but the breeze cools me down. “You’ve mentioned safety to me several times. You said it’s not safe for me to sit alone in my car while waiting for the tow truck driver, not safe to go with said tow truck driver, not safe to run in Hood to Coast, not safe to answer my door, and not safe to runon a busy street. And your ritual with the bench just now was a little odd.”
His response is a tad delayed. He laughs, but it seems forced. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He sits on the bench, stretching out his long legs. I join him as he says, “There’s something about having children that has made me look at life differently. The world is a dangerous place, you know? It’s amazing we make it through a single day.”
He’s kidding and yet not. “Is it?”
“Seriously. Every sharp corner is a potential bump on the head that might require a trip to the emergency room for stitches. I’m positive every bookcase in the house is about to fall over and squish someone, even though they’ve never moved once in the entire time I’ve owned them. Soft pillows can smother someone in their sleep. Hard candy is just waiting to be choked on. I still think grapes and hot dogs should be sliced before consumption. By everyone. For life. Electrical outlets are screaming for someone to stick their finger in them.” He turns to me. “It’s exhausting.”
