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“Hey!” my mom bellowed as I walked in the front door.
“Hey,” I said, swinging my overnight bag onto the couch. “How goes it?” I was tired, I wanted to climb into bed and fall into a deep sleep. I’d been restless, pent-up frustration, a war in my mind and body over Eliza and I spent far more time in the gym than normal and my shoulders ached like crazy.
“It goes,” Mom said in her sing-song voice. She yammered on about some charity thing she was working with the school. She said dad was on his way home from the office and we could all eat together. I bit my lip (and immediately wondered what it would be like to have Eliza latch onto my lip instead) and nodded. Mom was clearly in an overstimulated mood and needed people. It wouldn’t be worth the fuss to skive off dinner with them.
I sat at the kitchen island and listened to her continuing on about some gala or whatnot and ignored the words coming from her mouth. When Dad walked in, he clapped me on the back. We ate the pot roast and I managed to get to bed, feeling very much like a small sophomore high schooler confined by my parents. Granted, I was only going to college thirty minutes away, but it felt like I could breathe when I was there. I pulled out my phone, wishing I had some pictures of Eliza, or of Eliza and me together.
ME: Still thinking about that joke. You had me worried; I thought that literary side made you too serious.
ELIZA: There’s a lot you don’t know about me. For one, I love puns. I also know how to knit.
ME: Shit. I think I’m dating a granny.
ELIZA: We’re dating?
ME: I accuse you of being a granny and you’re concerned with a label?
ELIZA: Fair enough. Could a granny do a handstand? Because I can.
ME: Fine. You’re not a granny, and yes we are dating. Exclusively.
I should have put a question mark at the end. I should have given her room in the discussion. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to give her a chance to make this something else. I wanted her, just her.
ELIZA: Exclusively? That’s a big word for a man who thinks numbers are beautiful.
ME: I even know the definition. And you know why math is beautiful. It’s absolute. It doesn’t change.
ELIZA: Words change and evolve and can mean more than one thing. You can paint a picture.
ME: you can add an “until” after the “exclusive” bit and make it all void.
ELIZA: Exclusive. That little dot is a punctuation mark. Meaning full stop. No words added after. It’s final.
ME: Maybe I can get behind this love of words.
ELIZA: See you tomorrow morning.
Iwoke up to the smell of bacon and coffee. After eating my fill, a quick gym and sparring session with my dad (laid him flat one too many times for my mom’s liking) and a shower, I hopped in my truck and made my way to the Turkey Trot. My mom put me to work setting up cones for the 5k race and half marathon and it was fairly easy to escape after that.
ME: Are you here yet?
ELIZA: Almost. Parking now.
ME: Meet me by the 5k race banner.
ELIZA: I refuse to run in any of the races. See you in ten.
And suddenly the idea of roping her into one of these chaotic races made me grin.
13
ELIZA
Iwas lucky to find a parking space, luckier that I had time to stop and buy another few cards full of minutes. I liked talking with Trask. Being able to call him when I had one of those damned math problems I couldn’t solve was nice too.
I found him standing under the 5k sign, wearing jeans and a hoodie with a jacket over it. I laughed at myself; I was dressed similarly. Most people wore something like us though, or athletic shorts or tights, those were the serious runners and athletes though. Almost everyone else came for the potato sack races and pie-eating contests.
“Hey,” I said as I walked up.
