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“Do you really think that hat disguises you enough not to be recognized?”
“I haven’t been spotted yet.”
He begins to explore the apartment, walking slowly through the small, open space. I find myself trying to imagine how he’s seeing my home. Does he think it’s too small, too cluttered? Or maybe too hot since we only have an A/C unit in the main room and not central air. Before I can go down a dark rabbit hole, he turns back to me, looking relaxed.
“You were right to call my place boring. Your apartment definitely feels lived in. A lot of love has gone into making this space homey.”
Iamproud of the home I’ve built for myself and Luna, but Grant’s words give my spine the adjustment it needs. I stand taller, chin high as I agree with him. The space is full of amazing memories and color.
“So,” he continues, “I had planned for us to hit up the Don Valley trails and maybe have a picnic, but it looks like the rain has ruined those plans.” His cheeks grow rosy and he glances away. “I didn’t have a backup plan.”
He had a plan. My heart sang with delight. And he’s upset he didn’t have a backup plan for our day out. This guy is going to ruin me. He’s too cute. I hate what I have to do next.
“Umm, about that. I have to cancel our date. I got a call from the animal daycare I help out at from time to time and they desperately need someone to help out today. I kinda can’t pass up this opportunity.” I let my words trail off at the end. Hoping he understands that I’m talking about money.
He considers me for a moment before getting into my space. When his chest brushes mine, I lose focus, his warmth washing over me. Running his hands through the hair at the side of my face, he angles my chin so that I’m looking up at him. “Then let’s do that instead.”
Wait. What? He couldn’t be serious.
“What? You want to help me walk and feed animals?”
“Yeah. Sounds like fun.”
“Fun? Walking in the rain and picking up poop sounds like fun?”
“Well the walking and playing with dog part sounds fun. Poop, not so much, but I know it’s a package deal.”
Well I wasn’t going to fight him on it. If he said he wanted to help, he wanted to help. “Okay, great. Give me a second to find my rain boots and then we can be off.” Scurrying into my bedroom, I rip open the closet and start throwing things around. Eventually, I find my rain boots hidden in the back under a Santa hat. I clumsily pull them on before walking out to meet Grant. One of the boots squeaks with every step I take.
“Do we need to take anything?” Grant is standing by the door, his baseball cap of invisibility back in place. I have half a forearm down my boot, trying to find out what is causing the squeak, as I nod to him and point.
“There’s some homemade dog treats in fridge. Blue container.”
As I continue to dig and move my sock around, Grant grabs what I asked. My hair falls into my face as my eyes follow his every movement from my hunched position. He looks comfortable here, moving around with ease and a familiarity that should have warning bells going off in my head. They’re silent though, blocked out by dreamy love-struck music instead. With my squeak problem fixed, I grab the elastic around my wrist and twist my hair up into a low bun. Strands of hair instantly fall out, not wanting to be restrained.
“Alright. Let’s hit the road!”
It’s only at the last second, as I’m about to close and lock the door that I reach back in and grab the umbrella that’s hanging on the coatrack.
Grant takes a couple steps towards the elevator, leaving me cringing.
“Just joking,” he says, spinning around on his heel with a grace that leaves me stunned. He holds open the stairwell door, beckoning me forward. I try not to show the impact that simple act has on me. Water is pooling in my eyes, but I won’t let it fall. I can’t remember the last time a door was opened for me. That’s really pathetic. Was I really hiding myself away, thinking that I’m living out loud but in reality holding people at arm’s length?
I would have to think about that later. Grant’s elbow nudges me out of my head and back to the present. “Ha!” I give him a forced laugh, “sorry about that. Got lost in my head.”
“Thinking about Luna?”
I wasn’t, but there’s no way I’m going to tell him that when he’d just given me the perfect alternative answer.
“I’m always thinking about Luna.”
“Have you talked to her lately?”
“We text non-stop, but she did call last night. Her first shift went great, she hates the bugs and she already misses Starbucks coffee. Oh, and me,” my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Grant hums, a grin on his face. The rain has stopped for now, leaving the city streets damp in the humidity. I can feel my hair frizzing already.
“Crap, I remember my first summer job. It was Hell working with kids.”
