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Erick wanted to tell her the truth, that he was thinking about how good they were together, how much he cared about her already and how much he hoped this was going somewhere past Thanksgiving. But he didn’t say that because Ruthie had trained him too well. He knew better than to put that kind of pressure on a woman this early in a relationship. So he told her a half-truth.
“I’m thinking I’m very glad you picked me over Sven.”
10
“PARENTS?” CLOVER ASKED. “I assume you have them?”
“I do. And they’re both still alive and kicking. Mom works at the post office and Dad’s a roofer. He’s slowed down a little the past few years but he still works more than he needs to.”
“Siblings?”
“Only child. My parents like to say they got it right the first time.”
“Um...” She paused and tried to think of the sorts of things her family would bring up at Thanksgiving dinner. “Concerts?” Clover asked. “That might come up in conversation. Hunter and Lisa go to a lot of concerts. He’s on the local symphony’s board of directors.”
“Last concert I went to was a couple years ago when Ruthie was going through an obsessed with Haim phase. Great show.”
“Concerts you wanted to go to.”
“I’ve seen DMB live five times,” Erick said. “But all in high school.”
Clover nodded. “So, you were a stoner in high school, I see.”
“I wish,” he said. “But nope. I really don’t have an excuse. I legitimately loved their music.”
Clover smiled behind her coffee cup as Erick resumed his rowing. The weather had turned vaguely pleasant, at least for late November in Oregon. The sky was steel gray with clouds but it wasn’t raining and the temperature had hovered near sixty since noon. Perfect weather for taking a boat out onto the lake. Erick had insisted on rowing and she didn’t mind at all, sitting back and watching him work. He wore a lightweight black sweater with the sleeves shoved up to his elbows, which gave her a glorious view of his muscular forearms as he pulled back on the oars. She knew she should be checking out the scenery—the mountain, the trees, the lake—but Erick was without a doubt the best part of her view.
“What about you?” he asked. “Concerts? Favorite bands?”
“I played cello in high school and college. I’m still kind of a classical music snob. But I love Alison Krauss, too.”
“Country, right?”
“Bluegrass and country. Mom’s an English professor so books will probably come up in conversation. Favorite books? Last book read?” Clover asked.
“Last book read was Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods. Favorite book? Either A Farewell to Arms or House Made of Dawn.”
“I’ve never read either of those.”
“Ruthie had to read them in her AP Lit classes. I’d read Hemingway a little in high school but read him again when she did. I’d never read House, either, but whew, damn good stuff.”
“You read what Ruthie reads in school?”
“Why not? I mean, I know she’s smarter than me, but I’m not about to let her figure that out yet.”
“She is smart, but so is her father.”
“Tell her that.”
“I will. She might be able to name the ritual healing properties of a hundred different kinds of incense but I highly doubt she knows how to build a cedar deck.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t go near cedar. She says it has too many masculine properties. Supposedly the scent of it increases male virility.”
“That explains last night. And this morning.”
“And tonight and tomorrow morning...”
She leaned forward and kissed him on the forward motion of his rowing.
