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“Something could be arranged, but afterward. We have other things to do first.” She pouts.
She peers down at her outfit. “This seems like a date. Are you sure I don’t need to change before we go?”
“No. You’re perfect just the way you are.” A smile plays on her lips. “Now, let’s go.” I tug on her hand, leading her out of her bedroom, down the stairs, and out the front door.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, we’re standing on the Lakewalk, granted we spent ten of those minutes finding parking, I always forget how busy it gets next to the lake during the summer. The gentle breeze rolling off the lake keeps the temperature cooler. People mill around in the warm sun, most of them tourists, as they take in the iconic views of the lighthouse and the lift bridge that Harbor Highlands is known for. Others bike, jog, and rollerblade up and down the path that spans eight miles along the shore of Lake Superior. Some people have dogs on leashes while others feed the seagulls, even though there are signs stating, “Do Not Feed The Birds.”
“Um. I’ve been down here a million times. What are we doing?”
I point to a corner of the parking lot. “We’re riding one of those.”
“Wait. We’re riding a Surrey bike?”
“Yes, we are.” I grab her hand and tug her to the bike stand. I greet the man in charge of rentals and pull out my wallet to pay for ours.
After we sign the waiver, we stroll toward the rows of bikes. She stops next to one at the front of the line. “Are you sure this isn’t a date? This is very date-like.”
“Consider it a non-date date.”
Her eyes crinkle in the corners before she lowers her sunglasses from the top of her head and climbs onto the bench seat of the four wheeled quadricycle. The roof shields us from the sun shining down.
“I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never rented a bike down here.”
I hop in next to her. “First time for everything.”
Each of us rest our feet on the pedals and push. The wheels propel us down the paved walkway. Other bikers pass us as we leisurely ride along the Lakewalk. A train passes us to the left as steam billows from the chimney. Passengers gaze out the windows and we wave to them as they pass by. We continue down the paved path, weaving in and out of families and couples as they stroll next to us on the wood boardwalk. Once we reach our destination, I steer the bike into a small parking area.
“I can’t believe how much fun this is. It’s funny the things you take for granted when it’s so easily accessible to you.” She rests both her hands on the steering wheel and glances at me.
“Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
Her sweet laugh fills the air. “Is that so?”
“Wise words from a wise man.” I flash her a dimpled grin.
With a smile still on her lips, her gaze never leaves mine. “I can’t say much about Ferris Bueller, but you, Van Bailey, surprise me more and more every day.”
I lift one shoulder. “I need to keep you on your toes. Life’s more interesting that way. Now, on to the next part of our non-date date.” I hold out my hand for her, and without hesitation, she takes it. “Let’s see, we did an activity and now it’s time I feed you.”
“Are you sure this isn’t a date? It’s sounding more and more like a date.” She tilts her head and rests her other hand on her hip.
“Non-date date. And I’ll be going in for a non-kiss kiss when I drop you off.” I’m half tempted to kiss her right now.
Her mouth falls open. “Oh, you already think this non-date date will end with a kiss? Cocky much?”
“Confident.” She releases a giggle that sounds as enchanting as the birds singing in the trees.
We climb a set of metal stairs that leads from the Lakewalk up to the main road. Once we reach the top, a small brick building sits to our right. Her eyes light up when she notices where we’re going.
“We’re getting malts?”
I nod my head, her excitement contagious.
“I’ve passed this malt shoppe so many times, but never stopped. It’s like you know all the things I’ve never done.” She tugs on my hand like an eager five-year old and drags me to where a small line is already formed.
When it’s our turn, Hollyn orders a strawberry cheesecake malt, and I get cookies and cream. A few minutes later, they call my name and I collect our order and we find a picnic table in the shade to sit at. Both of us dive in, and the cool, sweet ice cream melts on my tongue.
