Do you think Marjorie really dated one of the Minnesota North Stars? Cleo wonders.
She mentioned his name, didn’t she? Rob? And he was a forward. I guess we could look up rosters from back then and see if it lines up.
Cleo sticks her tongue out. Bleh. Too much fucking work. Let’s just pretend it’s true.
Okay. I watch as she removes her gloves and toque. Her blonde braids remind me of how wild her hair looks loose. You know, at first these dinners felt dumb. Like we were puppets putting on a show to amuse Marjorie.
She giggles. Yeah, but you got to eat all those great dinners.
I groan. A lot of that food I had to eat was your fault. I’m not going to miss Cleo’s hobby of making sure I got huge portions of anything fattening.
She reaches over and pats my shoulder. Don’t worry, I’m sure your physique has only deteriorated from a ten to a 9.9995.
I ignore the compliment and clear my throat. Anyway, once I got to know her and Geraldine, I liked both of them. Marjorie, especially, has really lived a full life. Stories from her business days are so interesting, I say. But that started a whole new problem for me. I hated that we were tricking her by pretending to be a couple.
Cleo waves this off. All that fake-couple stuff was bullshit. But we never did anything that wasn’t real. It’s not like we were holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. Even tonight, we were pretty much ourselves.
I’m just glad that we’re on the same side now. She thinks we’re friends, and we are, I say.
Are we just friends? Cleo is watching me closely.
It’s pretty early to put labels on anything.
She scrunches her nose. Okay, I could take that answer two ways. One, you’re not interested in anything happening between us. Or two, you’re saying that it’s too soon.
I say what I mean. I’m not a complex guy. I do like Cleo, but I’m being cautious. My breakup left me feeling fragile, so I’d prefer to proceed slowly.
Fine. But I’ve been mean to you for so long that I need to double down on being nice now.
It’s fine. Just be yourself. Cleo is very direct about going for what she wants, but I’m more guarded. We’re attracted to each other, but do we match in other ways? Personality-wise we’re very different, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
I look up at the almost-full moon shining in the night sky. Hey, do you have to rush back?
She raises a suggestive eyebrow. What do you have in mind?
I usually go for a walk after these dinners. Would you like to join me?
Cleo giggles. So that’s how you’ve been burning off all Geraldine’s cooking.
I nod. I’ve been walking after each dinner so I can digest and sleep. There’s a trail near the shelter. The moon tonight is bright enough to light the way.
No need to sell this, you had me at walk, she says with her usual enthusiasm.
I park in the shelter lot, then pull on my toque and get out of the car. Cleo’s already out before I get to her side, all bundled up in her puffy jacket and chunky boots. She lifts her knees like she’s warming up for real exertion.
I know this trail. Becks and I were running it, you know, that day we met up with you here?
I can still remember how she pissed me off that day. How far we’ve come.
Did that dog get adopted? she asks, as we start along the trail.
I’m not sure which dog you’re talking about.
She makes this crazy face, with her tongue lolling out to the side and her eyes wide. I immediately recognize Bruno and shout with laughter as Cleo dissolves into laughter too.
Joy bubbles up inside me. How long has it been since I’ve laughed so hard? I reach for her hand as we walk, and she smiles at me when we touch.
Yeah, he did. He went to a great family with two kids. I was there that day, and the last thing I saw was Bruno bouncing joyfully between the two children as he made his way to their car. I love a shelter happy ending.
