Just for the Summer(10)

“We have a fully furnished two-bedroom A-frame cabin,” I said, leaning over to grab the red nail polish off my nightstand. “We always try to find someplace fun. A beach house or a loft in a big city where we can walk to things. We stayed in a converted grain silo once, it was really neat. Oh, and a tree house.”

“A tree house?” He sounded impressed.

“Yeah, it had rope bridges and everything. We were on a quick two-week assignment to Atlanta. Maddy and I had to share a bed, but it was so cool.”

“Wow.”

“In Hawaii we’re staying in a condo,” I said, my chin to my knees while I painted my toes. “It’s not that exciting. But we can walk to the beach.”

“Nice. So you drank your coffee. Then what?”

“Then I made breakfast,” I said. “Scrambled eggs and cheese on an English muffin. Grapes.”

“Seedless?”

“Of course. I’m not a sadist.”

“So you know how to cook,” he said.

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Yeah. I’m a good cook,” he said.

“What’s the last thing you cooked?” I asked.

“Well, the last thing I cooked was mac and cheese with hot dogs in it for Chelsea. She’s four. The last good thing I cooked was slow cooker ribs. I have a Crock-pot in my kitchen, under the watchful eye of the Toilet King.”

I laughed.

“So then what?” he asked. “What else did you do today?”

I smiled. I had to admit, it was refreshing that he was asking about me. I found that most men I dated just liked to talk about themselves.

“Well, then I went to Target for nail polish remover—”

“And you went to Starbucks.”

“Yes, I went to Starbucks. I had to, it was right there.”

“The absolute chokehold that Starbucks has on us. What do you get there?” he asked.

“I get a salted caramel cold foam cold brew, but as a decaf Americana since I already had regular today. What do you get there?”

“In the winter I get a grande triple caramel macchiato. In the summer I do the iced tea infusion thingy. The dragon fruit one.”

“So you drink caramel macchiatos nine months out of the year?”

“Hey, don’t poke fun at Minnesota,” he said good-naturedly. “It’s not that bad.”

I paused in my toenail painting. “I saw on the news that it was negative thirty for a week a few months ago. How is that not that bad?”

“You just do the door-to-door sprint. It’s thirty seconds of cold, tops. Like getting something from a walk-in freezer. Half the time I don’t even put on a jacket. And you get the right clothes for when you do need to be outside longer. The summers are great, fall’s beautiful. Travel vlogger Vanessa Price lives here and she could live anywhere.”

“Hmm, I do like her. So I told you my day,” I said. “What did you do today?”

“Well, I woke up and made my coffee—Nespresso machine. Used my frother to make a cappuccino. Two percent milk. Opened the blinds and stood there with my mug in my hand, staring at the billboard, questioning all my life choices. I took Brad out, came back, took a shower. Watched Chelsea for an hour, then went to meet Benny and best friend Brad for lunch.”

“Where did you go?” I asked.

“It’s a little restaurant Brad found.”

“What did you order?”

“A peanut butter burger,” he said.

I made a face. “Was it good?”

“It was, actually. It had caramelized onions on it and this grape jelly chutney thing.”

“So did anything happen at lunch with your friends?”

“Not today. But when I had lunch with them yesterday we talked about the Reddit thread. I told them about you, obviously,” he said. “That’s when Brad gave me his prophecy about you and I being able to break the curse.”

“Ah, so that’s why you texted me,” I said with my chin to my knees, blowing the paint dry on my toes.

“No. I really needed to know about the Q-tip thing.”

“I see,” I said, smiling. “Then you went home?”

“I stopped for gas and then I went home. I texted you my Princess Anna picture. Here we are.”

“And where are we exactly?” I asked. “What do you see on your walk?”

“Hold on, I’ll show you.”

I had a tiny moment of panic thinking he was about to video call me, but instead a picture came through.

“This is where I’m walking right now. I took this the other day at sunset.”

It was a picture of a city skyline taken from the middle of a wide concrete walking bridge with a rust-colored railing.

“This is the Stone Arch Bridge.” Another picture came through. “That’s the Mississippi.”

The river was tree-lined. It was really pretty, urban but naturey at the same time.

I exited and googled the bridge and hit Images. “I’m looking at the bridge online. There are a lot of engagement photos.”

“I see about one proposal a week,” he said. “It’s a very popular spot to pop the question.”

“Public proposals are hostage situations,” I said, going back to his picture and zooming in. I could see the back of a billboard and I wondered if that was his apartment building just beyond it.