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“Yeah, but he loves Gretzky so if I don’t bring him with me when I go over there, Pop eventually caves and comes here for a visit. He loves taking that guy for hikes with him.”
“Gretzky?” Oliver cocks his head to one side, puzzled, and I forget just how long we’ve been apart.
Since the gym, it feels like our time apart no longer exists though that’s far from true.
As if waiting in the wings for his turn to make his entrance, my three-year-old whippet scampers into the room.
“Hey, there.” I bend to pet him and he nuzzles into my hand. “Oliver, this is Gretzky.”
If it weren’t for my pets being different breeds, you’d believe they were siblings, both with their gray-blue coats.
Oliver shimmies closer and pets my dog. “He’s beautiful. They both are.” He looks up at me. “You’ve got a house full. Any more animals I should know about?”
“I’ve got tetras in my office. The door is always closed because of Jordan.”
“Tetras? What is that, fish?”
“Yeah. I’ll show you later.” I pull a chair out and sit. “Let’s eat.”
With my first bite of the warm sandwich, I almost cry. Oliver always did make the best grilled cheese. He uses an obscene amount of butter and cheese. During high school, Percy used to beg him to make them for us any time he came over to our place to help Pop. And that was a lot.
“Oh, I missed you,” I mumble through a bite with what I’m sure is a longing look at the golden toasted bread and oozing cheddar cheese. “You can make these for me any day.”
He chuckles and picks up his spoon. “I’m glad I still have what it takes.”
“Was there any doubt?”
“I haven’t made them in a long time?—”
“How could you not?” I lick my fingers and dunk my half-eaten sandwich into the steaming tomato soup. “This is the best comfort food. I always marveled at how you cooked from like, how old were you, ten?”
“Yeah, something like that.” He unwraps his sandwich and takes his first bite. “Kind of had to fend for myself once my father got into politics. Eddie looked after me when he was around, but that wasn’t much, and my parents…” He pauses to glance up at me with something weighty hanging in the air between us. “They were always out.”
I nod, remembering now how things were for him at home, then swallow the last of my soup. “This was really good. Thank you.”
“Glad you liked it.” He drags a napkin across his mouth. “Do I get a tour of your place?”
“Of course.” I push the chair back and stand. “Let’s clean up and then I’ll show you around.”
Oliver stands and Jordan lopes out from under the table. He tries to pick up the cat and Jordan hisses, backs up, and swishes his tail at him before leaving.
Laughing, I take the thermoses to the sink. “It’s got to be on his terms.”
“I can see that.”
The animals follow us while I take him on a walk-through of my home. Finally, we end up in my bedroom.
“So this is Wren Tyler’s bed.” He sits on the end and pats the mattress as if checking for firmness.
I giggle and shake my head. “You say it like my bed is infamous.”
“It might as well be for how many times I tried to visualize your home. Your room.” He leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs, and blushes. “I’m going to sound like a stalker or something. You don’t want to know how many times I drove by once I heard you’d moved out and gotten your own place.”
A light fluttering sensation skitters through my chest. “You did?”
“Yeah. I wanted so badly to knock on your door. Say hi, ask to come in.”
My mouth dries at his revelation, and I don’t know how to respond or what to do with this new piece of information. All these years apart and we both wanted the same thing. To be together.
