“Don’t feed him,” Cole commands.
Ernest and I both whine in response.
“That’s pretty rude of her,” I whisper to Ernest.
“I can hear you,” Colette responds.
She’s still not looking at me when I ask, “He’s not allergic to human food or anything, right?”
Shielding her eyes from the sun, she glares at me. “No, Benjamin. Ernest the dog, whose ancestors have survived for many centuries living off of what they could hunt and scavenge, is not allergic to people food.”
“Just checking,” I tease. And then I feed Ernest a few bites of hamburger.
“I see we’re ignoring my requests today,” Cole mumbles.
I laugh and add some cheese to our patties. “I’m not ignoring you, I’m just selective. And you aren’t paying enough attention to me. I’m like Ernest here, I simply require your love and devotion. And some perfectly grilled burgers from time to time.”
She slams her textbook closed. “You’re the one who told me to study!”
“And you have studied!”
Cole looks at her pretend wristwatch. “For like twenty minutes!”
“Well, now it’s time to eat. Burgers are done.” Her head hits the back of the rocking chair, an exasperation only I can draw from her is evident in the dip of her eyebrow and quirk of her mouth. “Outside or inside?”
She stands, abandoning her textbook and wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. “Outside, you menace.”
“Excellent choice.” I pop open a diet cherry cola, placing it at her spot on the table.
We eat with the sounds of wind rustling the fallen leaves and the call of some unidentifiable bird as our background music. “I think there’s water nearby,” Cole comments. “Can you hear it?”
I sit in silence for a moment, and sure enough, I can hear the faint trickle of water. “Should we hike and try to find it tomorrow? Too bad it’s not summer, we could have gone for aswim.” I pump my eyebrows obnoxiously which receives a flick to my nose in return.
“I’ve been thinking,” Cole says after another bite of her plain cheeseburger. “Do you really not want kids?”
“Woah, coming out with the big questions tonight, Red.” I smirk.
She looks out to our temporary backyard. “You don’t have to answer. I’ve just been curious.”
“Oh my God, Colette Russell. Have you been thinking about a future with me?”
“No,” she deadpans.
“You have!” I jump up, rounding the table so I can sit next to her instead of across from her. Taking her blanket, I wrap it around both of us so she’s cuddled in close to me on the bench seating. She doesn’t push me away so I test my luck even further by urging her onto my lap. With a huff, she acquiesces, straddling me and arranging the blanket so we are in our own little cocoon.
“You like me,” I sing-song, kissing her so she doesn’t have the opportunity to respond. “And no.”
Cole pulls back, confused. “No?”
“No, I don’t want kids. Hence the whole vasectomy thing,” I joke.
She looks between both of my eyes in a way that tells me she’s contemplating what to say next. “When did you decide to do that?”
“Uh…” I tilt my head side to side, deciding how truthful I want to be in my answer. “A few years ago.”
There. A vague answer should be good enough.
“How many years ago, Ben?”
