Page 58 of A Me and Him Thing
It’s beautiful, the type of home that fits Ren. In the condo, he’s a fish out of water. Here, he belongs.
When he parks the car, he doesn’t make a move to get out. We sit there staring at his home, the silence that has engulfed us the entire ride still present. There’s not much to say. Our usual happy banter has been replaced with trepidation. I’m wondering what I’m about to face. I imagine he’s wondering how I’ll react.
Ren shifts in his seat to face me. “I love this house. I miss living here full time.”
“I can see why. It’s amazing. It’s a long commute from your restaurant, though.” I switch positions too. I want to see his eyes.
“Yeah. I didn’t plan on spending as much time at the restaurant as I do. But that’s the way it worked out. I don’t mind the commute, though. Helps me unwind.”
I don’t say anything.
“Bree, will you promise me one thing?”
“Okay.” How can so much hesitancy be conveyed in one little word?
“Promise you’ll reserve judgment until you know the entire story.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the beginning. Especially after knowing what you’d been through with your relationship with Sawyer.”
“Please stop apologizing. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Yeah, I have.”
With that, he exits the car, circles around and opens my door, all the while his shoulders hunch with worry. I miss funny and lighthearted Ren more than I care to admit. He’s almost like a stranger to me right now. Of course, even I’m a bit of a stranger to myself right now. I’ve changed so much internally over the past few months.
We walk up the front sidewalk, my knees weak, like I’m a newborn baby deer who’s just learning how to stand. I might fall flat at any moment.
“Hey, Ren!” Through a break in the trees, the house next door is visible. Next door is an exaggeration. The house is on its own property with a farm-type fence dividing the land. The man is standing next to the fence. If I wasn’t so taken with Ren, I would notice that the man is a handsome little devil.
“Hey, Curtis. Life treating you well?”
“Sure is. No complaints here. How is…everything?”
“No change. Thanks for asking.”
“You bet. Don’t be a stranger.”
“Thanks for the invite. Appreciate it, Curtis.”
That was a perfect example of men speaking in Guy Code. From what I can see of him, Curtis looks young. He has to be in his very early twenties, if that. A handsome brunette, but still a bit lanky, like he hasn’t turned into a man yet. But he could be a lanky model in a glossy magazine for tweens. Just saying.
“Nice neighbor,” I remark.
“Everyone around here is friendly. Well, mostly. We’ve had a few bumps in the road. But that’s all worked out now. It’s a great neighborhood. Nice for the kids.”
He’s right. This place is idyllic.
Ren adds, “Don’t mention Curtis around my dad. He can’t stand him. He always says he’s a do-nothing punk.”
“Is he?”
“He seems nice enough to me. A little lost, though. I’m not sure what he did to rub my dad the wrong way. But Curtis lives in his parents’ basement, plays video games all day, doesn’t hold down a job, smokes like a chimney, and gets drunk often. It irritates my dad to see a kid’s life going to waste. He needs help, not to be enabled.”
I happen to agree. “At least he’s friendly,” I mumble. And a hunk. For some other lucky young girl. I have a hunk of my own.
Maybe. I think. I hope.
