It sounded perfect—no quick lunch, but an entire day with a good friend.
“Great. I’ll drive back up and get my gear. I’ll be—”
“No!” He grabbed my hand to pull me in line. “You need your vanilla latté, then we’ll go. Shoes will take care of themselves.”
I grinned and submitted. He was like me with a new book—but jacked up on caffeine.
After paying for my coffee and another for him, we wandered the entire neighborhood and the zoo. I stood for a long time at the elephants, and he made me stay equally long at the penguins—cute but cold little guys. We didn’t talk much, and the silence hung like a silk curtain, light and lovely. He was eager to share the day and I was equally delighted—both in the activities and the company. Alex is easy to talk to. He doesn’t press and he’s beginning to share. We both are.
He’s also really handsome. Women look at him and I don’t think they recognize him; they just think he’s cute. What’s even better? He doesn’t notice. Again, it’s not the whole left eye thing—I believe Alex chooses to focus on what’s in front of him. The rest just floats by. It’s flattering, though daunting at times, to be in that zone.
I refuse to dissect our relationship, but old habits die hard. Are we friends? Semi-family via the Muirs? I can’t tell. I assume there’s nothing more than friendship on Alex’s side. He never gets “that look” or holds my hand. Sure, he grabs it occasionally, but that’s for speed or directional corrections. I also get a guiding hand at the small of my back sometimes, but again, it’s a directional thing. And it’s gentlemanly. Alex is that.
After a sidewalk lunch at Gemini Bistro, Alex directed us to Fleet Feet. I was in the door before I caught on to the man and his mission: “What size shoe do you wear?”
“Nine. Why? Hey, you aren’t buying me shoes. I’ll buy them. Or I can just go get mine.”
“No, this is my idea. I’m buying the shoes.” He looked very serious.
“I’ll buy the shorts.”
“Shorts?”
“Alex, I’m wearing walking shorts and a blouse. I’m going to need more than shoes.”
“I hadn’t noticed that.”
“Thanks. I’ll have you know I thought about this outfit.” I feigned indignation.
“Sam, I didn’t mean that. You’re beautiful.” He stopped and looked at me—really looked at me. I tucked the compliment and the look away for safekeeping.
We wandered the store and I found everything I needed. Alex insisted on paying, and since he was being stubborn and makes far more money than I do, I let him. We then hoofed it to the Belden Stratford to change.
If you’ve never been to Chicago, I think the Belden Stratford is the equivalent of renting an apartment at the Plaza in New York. (No, I haven’t seen it. I’ve readEloise.) Gorgeous, I would guess; a fortune, I guarantee. Alex’s apartment is there, near the top floor with a gorgeous view of the lake. We changed quickly and were off.
The day was perfect—mild, gentle breeze off the lake, and every moment felt charged with sunlight. Alex felt it too. The guy couldn’t stop smiling. It was an infectious good feeling.
You can always talk more deeply when running because it feels safe. You can’t directly look at the person next to you. And you can’t hide much in so few clothes and so much sweat. Exhaustion also addles your inhibitions.
“How is Cole?” I was really asking about him, and he knew it.
“He’s better, Sam. I think that’s what my publisher knew—he needed to be pushed, but I was scared to do it. To push him means pushing me. That’s hard.”
Alex then asked me about my relationship with Josh. At our first lunch I told him I had a boyfriend but didn’t add much detail, and I’ve never provided an update. It’s embarrassing. I still feel stupid. But I was completely honest. I told Alex everything.
“. . . So that’s the end of my first real boyfriend. You know, we barely spent any time together all spring. That should have been a sign. I mean, don’t you want to be with your girlfriend?”Subtle probe.
“I haven’t had one in so long, I can’t remember.”
I threw him a scowl, suspecting he was deflecting or lying.
“I’m not kidding, Sam. But, yes, I’d want to be with her every moment I could. And when separated, I’d probably think about her constantly.”
“Then I wasn’t the one for Josh. He wanted ‘something’ from me all right, but not me. I’m pleased I came out as well as I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“‘He imposed on me, but he didn’t injure me.’”
