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“Well, we’re off to a great start,” I say.
“Oh man, that was just terrible,” he chuckles.
“Let’s try again. I’m gonna go arms high and head to my right, got it?” I say with a smile on my face that I couldn’t stop if I tried.
“Got it. I go arms low and my head to the right too.”
Just to continue to lighten the awkward move I start to count and he joins in.
“1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . hug!”
As we embrace we both hold on a little longer than we should. So long we are swaying a bit to the rhythm of both of our hearts that are beating a little faster and louder than normal. He feels like home.
Jonathan pulls away and says, “Well, that went a bit smoother than our first try, thank goodness.”
“Yes, it did. But don’t be rude, Jonathan,” I say with my hands on my hips. I amuse myself while I watch the scared confusion that breaks out across his handsome face. “Introduce me to your friend here.”
I can see the relief fill his body when he exhales a large breath and says, “Ah, yes. How could I forget my sweet girl . . . Emily, this is Frances, or Frannie. Francis, this is Emily.”
“Oh, Jonathan, she is so sweet!”
I bend down so I can properly introduce myself and give Frances—the cutest little dog I have ever seen—a proper hello. A few scratches behind her ear and a few licks to my cheek and I tear myself away to tell Jonathan how adorable she is.
“Thanks. I rescued her about a year ago. I take her everywhere with me. Hope you don’t mind me bringing a third wheel?”
“Of course not, she’s awesome. What breed is she?”
“She’s a mutt, but I’m sure there’s a little shepherd and maybe even a little pit bull in there. Not 100% sure, but I love her just the way she is.” He says and even though his words are sweet and there’s a smile on his face he doesn’t have that same sparkle in his eye that he did years ago.
“Uh, I hope you don’t mind but I went ahead and ordered for you. One twenty-four ounce, iced, non-fat, white chocolate mocha, no whip and one of the best marion berry scones you will ever eat.”
Breathe Emily . . . just because he remembers exactly how you like your coffee and what your favorite flavor pastry is, it doesn’t mean anything. Keep breathing and say thank you.
“Thank you, Jonathan. It’s perfect.”
“No problem, I owed you for the other night. It doesn’t make us even or anything, but I just want to say one more time how sorry I am.”
I really don’t want to talk about or think about that right now so I divert the conversation to something a bit more lighthearted.
“So, Frances huh? Is she named after somebody?”
“Nope, it’s the name she had when I adopted her. She responded to it so well already that I just left it. Besides she an older girl so it fits.”
“We’ve got Frank at Mickey’s but he’s nowhere as cute as her. Oh man does he snore and fart. He’s a bulldog so there’s just no getting around it.”
“Oh, I’ve met Frank and you aren’t kidding. He certainly leaves an impression.” He chuckles.
“You have?” I ask surprised that he would know Mick that well.
“Yep, I’ve known your brother for four years now. I’m not sure why, but he brought Frank to a St. Paddy’s party one year and then I helped him move into his place and saw Frank again then. There’s been a BBQ or two as well. I can’t believe Mickey Jacobs is your brother. What are the odds of that?” he asks, as if he’s just as shocked as I am by the small world we find ourselves in.
I feel myself starting to get emotional at the fact that Jonathan has been so close to me all this time and I had no idea. I wonder if he knows?
“Life’s pretty crazy isn’t it?”
As always, he’s reading my mind.
“It is . . . So, how did you end up in Portland?”
