Page 43 of Love Rescheduled

I shook my head and smiled, not sure what else I could do. I was trying to figure out what RBI stood for. I would google it later.

Kyle scrolled through more data, spouting out more useless info to me. Not that I minded. I was glad to see he was passionate. It caused me to wonder if he was one of those men who watched sports 24/7. I should probably find out. I didn’t want to be with someone who incessantly watched TV.

“Do you watch a lot of sports?”

He looked up from his phone. “Only when the Braves are playing. Other than that, I find it to be mostly a waste of valuable time.”

I liked that answer.

“How about you?” he asked.

“No.” I laughed. “I usually allow myself an hour of TV a day.”

“Impressive. What do you do with your spare time?”

“Right now, I’m learning French, and I love to read.”

“Est-ce que tu parles français?” he asked with perfect diction.

“Très peu,” I responded, pleased he knew French, or at least enough to ask if I spoke it. The answer was very little. Not enough to run away to Paris yet.

“You understand it, though.”

“I’m trying.”

While we moved into the next room, he asked, “What else are you interested in?”

“Art and serial killer documentaries,” I said without thinking.

“Me too,” he admitted.

Okay. This was getting too good to be true.

“Really?”

“I find them fascinating.” He stared at some old baseball cards encased in glass.

Part of me liked his answer, but the paranoid part wondered if he found them interesting because he was taking notes on how to become one. I stepped away from him despite the thorough background check I had run. Ever hear of the BTK Killer? The man was a psycho who killed ten people all while having a family of his own, going to church, and being a “normal” member of society.

“Why is that?” I tried to ask in a non-accusatory tone.

“Actually,” he shifted, “my fiancée, I mean, ex-fiancée, is a forensic psychologist. She acts as a criminal profiler for the Philadelphia Police Department.”

“That has to be an incredibly hard job.”

“It is … but she’s amazing at it,” he hesitated to say.

“Did you live in Philadelphia before moving back to Greer?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Just outside of it.”

“Did you like it there?”

He let out a heavy breath. “Not really.” He pointed to the cards in the case. “Do you know how much one of Joe Jackson’s cards went for a few years ago?”

I wasn’t sure why he would ask me that. Maybe he thought I had run across it in my studies. I shrugged, waiting for him to give me the price tag.

He paused for an unnaturally long time. “I shouldn’t have complained like I did.”

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