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It’s like this man heightens all my emotions, making me feel everything on a deeper level, our connection sweetening every aspect of me, of him, of us.
“Why did you pick outdoor equipment and clothes?” I ask.
He smirks. “Changing the subject to something a little less heavy?”
I smile. “Considering our table talk so far, I don’t think that’s hard.”
He chuckles, nodding. “I had a fantastic gym teacher when I was a kid. Growing up in the system can be tough. You know that. But there was this gym teacher, Mr. Kirkenwell, who saw something in me. It wasn’t that I was big. I hadn’t had my growth spurt yet. But there was something. He called it determination.”
“Yeah?” I ask, eager for every little morsel he can give me.
“You sure you really want to hear old high school stories?”
“I want to hear whatever you want to tell me,” I say passionately.
“Believe it or not, I was a skinny kid. On the first day of gym, we had to climb this rope. A lot of the other kids could get to the top. But I failed. The first time, I slammed into the floor, winding myself. The second I slid down, flaying the skin off my hands. It went on like that for a while, until finally, I had to stop. But Mr. K would always talk about that day. He said it proved I had the grit to make something of myself. I never forgot that.”
He pauses, a faraway look in his eyes.
My body has been hot this entire time, but I feel like it might erupt in a conflagration of starry release as I study the look on his face. It’s as though he’s drifting away into the past, losing himself in dreams of his youth.
Perhaps it’s because I know exactly what he’s thinking.
He’s savoring the bright spot in his childhood, the same way I do with Lisa whenever I look into the past – because the rest of it was so messy.
“Mr. K taught me hard work,” he goes on. “When I couldn’t afford to come on a class trip, he would help me out. I started working at his wife’s café to pay him back. He was a good man. He’s passed now, unfortunately. They both have, him and his wife.”
“But he’s the reason you started the business.”
Triston nods. “I traveled a fair amount in my late teens and early twenties because he always told me I should. It was dirt-poor traveling, staying in hostels, and grabbing any work I could find. But it was worth it, for all the hiking, all the rock climbing, all the fishing, and the camping and the general life of it, if that makes sense.”
Even if I didn’t understand his words, his tone told me so much. I’ve never heard him like this before, almost boyish in his enthusiasm.
It makes me think of how happy our children are going to be when he presents them with that same passion for his work, for life. It makes me think of wide excited faces as he shows our children how to bait a hook or encourages them when they get tired on a hike.
And suddenly my thoughts are caught on my imagined future.
I bite down as I study him.
“Maybe we should go on a trip sometime.” His voice has taken on an even huskier tone like he’s imagining the same things I am. “There are so many beautiful places in this state alone. Lots of good places to take pictures.”
“I’d love that,” I whisper.
I leave out the if.
As we continue eating, I think about his daughter, Alexis, and how strange she’d find it if I told her that her dad and I were going on a camping trip together.
And you’re not invited, because things might get steamy in the tent…
As I take another bite of my burger, I wish Lisa was here. She’d know what to say. She’d know what path I should take.
Once dinner is done, we leave the restaurant. It’s only been about an hour, maybe less or maybe more, but I feel like years have passed. I feel so much closer to him than I did when we first sat down.
“Shall we take a walk?” he asks. “I think there’s a park nearby.”
I swallow, knowing where this is going. I told him I wanted to wait until we were someplace private to tell him… but can I tell him?
Can I even think about telling him?
I don’t argue when he takes my hand in his. I can’t even think about arguing. His touch is too welcome, sending contentment flurrying through me, every signal in my body telling me this is right, Triston is my man. I don’t have to be afraid.
We walk into the park, under the metal archway, down a stone path. It’s quiet except for a man walking his dog on the far side.
