But Ren sends a smiley face followed by two separate dinosaur emojis, and I can’t think of a better person to help me try again.
Miller: I’ll text you after practice.
“You know ...” Ren pokes an orange before she lifts it up, inspecting it under the bright lights of the grocery store. “I didn’t have you pegged for a boutique-style grocery store guy. Figured you were a mass-market type.”
I glance sideways right as her hair spills down the back of her sweater. My grip tightens against a Honeycrisp apple, and I give her a grin. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. These places are so”—she tosses the orange into the air—“pretentious.” Her hand-eye coordination could use some work. She misses, and her hands start flailing back and forth as she tries to catch it before it drops to the floor.
I reach out, palm opening and waiting, and the orange falls against my skin. A singular brow kicks up when I hand it back to her.
She brings the orange to her chest, eyes narrowing. “That’s ... impressive.”
“Part of my job.” I shrug, looking back at the apple I’ve probably bruised.
“Well.” She considers setting the orange back in the artfully stacked pyramid before she cringes, dropping it into the waiting basket hanging on her elbow. “You must be good at it.”
I turn towards her, grin tugging sideways. “You were at a game two weeks ago. You didn’t notice?”
She frowns. “Unfortunately, I was a bit distracted.”
“Too bad,” I tsk. “Great game for me. You’ll, uh, have to catch another one.”
Hopefully one where all of Vai’s seasonally inappropriate conditioning makes a difference and I don’t look like I have for the last two weeks.Heat scorches across the back of my neck.
Ren tips her head. “Is that on your list?”
I shake my head. “No, I uh, stuck with the original six things from last night.” I start ticking them off again. “Being in public. Stuff like this.” Waving vaguely towards the produce, I keep counting. “Posting on social media. Lots of brand contracts I’ve not really held up my end of the bargain with. Have to get better at that or I’ll lose sponsorships. Playing catch ... playing for fun. Stop, uh, screening my aunt and uncle’s calls.” I try to swallow the shame over that one. Ren’s fingers twitch, like she wants to help, but I keep going. “Dating ... again. Or just, learning to talkto people. And then uh ...” I trail off, the last thing the heaviest and the hardest.
“The cottage,” she finishes softly, mouth shifting into an encouraging smile. “You said you never wanted to go back to your cottage again. But it made the second iteration of the list so ...”
“I want to try again,” I mumble, trying not to squeeze my eyes shut as all the memories start. Clearing my throat, I try to throw a grin her way. “What about your list?”
Her cheeks turn the colour of her hair, and her voice dips to a squeak. “I could only think of five.” She rushes to continue before I can interrupt. “And they’re kind of stupid, compared to yours.”
“Doubt it.” When she doesn’t say anything, I angle my head, eyes wide and expectant. Her gaze finds the wave of hair that fell onto my forehead before it snaps back to me, and she concedes.
“Fine.” She lifts her hands, sending the singular orange in her basket careening into the side. “I used to love going to trivia nights. Especially, uhm ... ones aboutJurassic Parkand dinosaurs. Scott hated them, so ...” she trails off with a tiny shrug, lip bowing when she looks down at her orange. “He didn’t like thrift shopping either. Or the aquarium. I liked both of those things.”
“Love the aquarium,” I cut in with an encouraging grin. “Big fish guy.”
She rolls her eyes, chewing on her cheek before she continues quietly. “Dating ... for me too. I think ... it could be nice to go on a date with someone who doesn’t spend the whole time talking about themselves.”
“We live in Toronto, good luck with that.”
A snort escapes in place of laughter, but she doesn’t slap her hand over her mouth. She takes a deep inhale before she tells me her number five, and I think this might be the heaviest and thehardest for her too. “I’d like to go back to school. I never got to do my PhD. I put those dreams on pause when—never mind, that’s not really important.” She flicks a hand. “But I’d like to work up the courage to chase a dream again.”
“Got it. Trivia night. Thrift shopping. The aquarium. Dating—got that one in the bag, I’m a great wingman. School.” I lift my hand, fingers spread wide. “Easy.”
“You think so?”
“No.” I laugh ruefully. “But we’ve ... uh, got each other for this, right? Who better to help with no judgement than two adults who are almost strangers?”
“And if people think we’re together?”
“If you’re, uh, okay with that ... I don’t think it could hurt. Would ... take the pressure off and maybe help with the trade request.” I drag a thumb across my mouth. “Scott the jealous type?”
Ren gives me a flat look, arms crossing over her chest. “I am not looking to make Scott jealous.”
