‘Yup.’
‘Do you have any flaws?’ I asked, watching him fill two plastic glasses with chilled white wine from a black Yeti water bottle. ‘Go on, give me something. This really isn’t fair.’
He chuckled, concentrating as he tried not to spill. Should have let me do it, I had never knowingly spilled a drop of alcohol in my life. ‘I’ve got plenty of ’em. Sometimes I fall asleep still wearing my socks and take them off in the night so there’s a pile of dirty socks that live at the bottom of my bed underneath the sheets.’
‘How do you live with yourself?’ I breathed.
‘I hate doing dishes. I’d only use paper plates if it wasn’t so bad for the environment.’
‘So scandalous.’
‘I hate waking up. If I didn’t set my alarm clock, I could sleep until noon at least, every single day. I can be stubborn, a little inflexible, and I like my own company a little too much.’
‘As in you don’t leave the house or you massively fancy yourself?’ I asked.
With a self-deprecating smile, he flexed a bicep. ‘What’s not to love?’
It was a wonder I didn’t spontaneously combust there and then.
‘I’ll let it pass because you brought cookies,’ I replied, looking away in an effort to compose myself. ‘Even if you do sleep in your socks, this is an excellent spread.’
‘Why thank you,’ he replied with a shallow bow. ‘Maybe it looks good laid out like this but it’s all I had in the house. I’ve been pretty much living on snacks, sandwiches and takeout for the last six months.’
He handed me one of the glasses and I raised it in his direction before taking a sip. ‘In fairness, you’ve got very good takeaways here. When I first moved into my house, the options were so limited, there was a very real danger of me turning into a sweet and sour chicken ball.’
‘You don’t like to cook?’ Ren crossed his long legs, the stiff fabric of his jeans stretching over his thick thighs. I gulped down a bigger swig of wine than intended.
‘Actually, I do. I got out of the habit when …’ I paused, pulling a few blades of grass out of the ground to make a little pile at the side of the blanket. ‘When I moved.’
No need to offer information he hadn’t asked for.
‘I cooked more when I was with Shawna, my ex,’ he replied. ‘Doesn’t seem worth the hassle when it’s just me.’
The way he spoke about his past relationship was so casual, so matter of fact. I used to be with someone, now I’m not. No drama, no stress, a thing that happened and was over now. I wondered what it must be like.
Looking around at the other picnickers, I caught the eye of a woman staring at Ren. She was too far away for me to hear what her group was saying but when our eyes met, she gave me a guilty little smile then turned away. Did she think Ren and I were a couple? For the first time, I saw us from the outside, a man and a woman sharing a picnic on a Friday night. It was the naturalassumption. The thought made me melt a little at the edges even if it was ridiculous.
‘Ever see any good birds here?’ I asked, turning my back on the woman and her friends.
‘Are you kidding me? So many.’ Ren wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a spark glinting in his eyes as he began listing them off on his fingers. ‘You’ve got all the regulars, then there’s the ducks and swans in the lake, a couple of peacocks who stroll around, the occasional goose. One time, I saw an incredible Cooper’s hawk hanging out on top of the Johnny Ramone statue.’
‘Creepy,’ I replied happily. ‘But also cool.’
‘There are a bunch of other animals too. Last time I was here I saw turtles in the pond and we’ve got all the LA classics: possums, squirrels, so many raccoons. There used to be a couple of cats who lived here too. This place is kind of a zoo. But not an actual zoo, that’s over in Griffith Park.’
‘Suzanne used to love the zoo,’ I said, flashing back to long days in plastic raincoats, my hands full of animal feed. ‘I wonder if she ever goes there.’
Ren looked doubtful. ‘The same Suzanne who made Santiago the gardener cry?’
‘He wouldn’t be the first and I don’t think he’ll be the last,’ I replied. ‘Suze really wants everyone to think she’s a double-hard bastard but she’s got a soft centre. It’s hard to find but it’s there.’
He reached out for the baguette and tore off a hunk of bread. ‘The problem with soft centres is you have to chew them up or break your teeth to get to them.’
I rolled onto my stomach, tucking my skirt securelyunderneath my hips, and picked out a handful of nuts. ‘You, Ren Garcia, are very wise.’
‘I used to think the same thing about my brother,’ he replied, tossing tiny chunks of his bread across the lawn towards a trio of the same little pink-breasted birds I’d seen outside Myrna’s house. ‘Until I found out he’s solid rock all the way through.’
‘I always wanted a big brother but Suzanne wasn’t a bad trade. All the bullies at school were terrified of her,’ I told him. ‘Is your brother older or younger?’
