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“So, where did you and Cal meet?”
“Through work,” I said.
“Is it serious?” he asked.
“He’s usually pretty serious, yes,” I muttered.
“Wait, you met him through work? He was so pale, and his eyes … Aw, man, he’s a vampire?” He groaned. “How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”
“It’s not a competition,” I reminded him gently. “You and I don’t work, Paul, remember? Not in the long term.”
The corner of his mouth tilted. “And I guess dating somebody who won’t die is pretty long-term, huh?”
“Paul—”
“Iris, I think we should give it another try. I miss you. No one makes me laugh like you. No one understands the way I think like you do. I think we can make it work long-term. We could get married, have kids, the whole deal. We could, Iris. We just have to try a little harder.”
“I want that. I want that just as much as you do, but we shouldn’t have to try so hard, Paul. It should just happen. We don’t have that … spark. That thing that makes you want to scream at someone one minute and kiss him the next. The thing that keeps life interesting.”
“OK, what if we got back together and we didn’t try at all?”
I laughed. “This feels like some sort of relationship trick.”
“I don’t do tricks. I don’t play games. You know that,” he said, squeezing my arm gently. “We may not have a spark, but what we have is the real thing. We’re friends, Iris. I can’t think of any better way to start a life together.”
He was right, of course. He didn’t play games. He was always very up-front with me, even when he knew it would hurt me. “No, Paul, thank you, but no. I don’t want to try again … with or without trying.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go out to dinner some night?” he asked. “Just as friends? I just—I miss talking to you, Iris. I miss you.”
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I honestly missed my old friend. I missed the simplicity of being with him. No drama. No danger. Pulses all around. I hadn’t been involved in a life-or-death struggle once while dating Paul.
He was there at the Dairy Freeze because he knew me. He knew my habits, my routine, my likes and dislikes, because he knew me. Not some dossier in a file that declared that I was a pruned-up spinster, ear-deep in debt, but the real me. Why couldn’t I make something relatively easy work? Why did I have to be such a personal train wreck?
Height jokes aside, Paul was a good-looking man in a small town, where the dating pool was limited. And there were a lot of reasons he was a viable candidate.
1. He had a steady job.
2. He didn’t expect me to cook for him, clean for him, or be his mommy.
3. He had no problematic tendencies such as drinking, drug abuse, or spending all waking hours playing World of Warcraft.
4. He was generally considerate and remembered my birthday every year without prompting.
5. I could count on him not to take inappropriate pictures of me while I was sleeping and post them on Facebook, which was more than I could say for one of the guys Andrea dated.
I didn’t want to play at relationships anymore. I wanted something I could hold on to, something that held on to me. Even if that thing was sort of dangerous and occasionally, and quite literally, bit me on the butt.
“It’s just not a good idea, Paul. I’m sorry. I miss you, too. But we can’t go on like this. This constant push-and-pull. It’s not healthy. We’re never going to meet the people we can have actual relationships with if we’re pseudo-dating.”
“But we can be friends, right? And friends go out to dinner all the time.”
“Yes, but friends don’t have sex afterward,” I deadpanned.
“Good friends do.”
“Paul.”
“It was worth a shot. But you’re OK, right?” he asked. “You’re not mad at me? Or dating some vampire to try to get over me?”
