"Yeah I do, actually," he laughed. "The first time a woman flirted with me after, I was convinced it was just pity. Totally blew it. That's why I figured we'd better get it out in the open. I'm interested. Very. You caught my attention the first time I saw you."
She thought back. "That would have been ... early April? Shortly after my surgery. I bought grapes. You let me taste one."
"You remember that?"
"Sure I do. I thought it was really nice of you. I thought ... you were really nice." She flushed again, suddenly embarrassed. She could still taste the sweet tang on her tongue. She hadn't seen him as anything other than a kind man at the time, and yet every time she'd bitten into a grape thereafter, she'd thought of him. She had a feeling it would always be that way, no matter what happened between them--or didn't. Lord, how weird her life had become.
He grinned as though he knew exactly what she was thinking, then seemed to hesitate. "Actually, that was the second time I saw you. The first time was a few weeks before. Friday, the thirteenth, to be exact."
Shock rippled through her, along with a weird sense of fate. "They confirmed my diagnosis that day. It was the first time I went to the center."
"I thought so. I saw you sitting in the lobby, and you had that look, the one we all get when we know for sure. You were so pretty, and I felt guilty for even thinking it because I knew what you were headed into. Well, I didn't, not really. There are so many types of cancer, so many stages. But whatever it was, I knew it would be tough."
Tears pricked at her eyes. How right he'd been about that. And, yet, it could have been so much worse. Her cancer was highly treatable, and she was young and had her family and friends to help her through. She'd seen the ones who had to go it alone, and the ones fighting terrifying odds. It could have been so much worse.
"I can't believe you were there on day one. I think of it in capitals, you know. Day One. But wait, why were you there on a Friday?"
"Five-year checkup."
"Oh wow! That's a huge milestone." The milestone, in fact.
"Yeah. I was so excited and then there you were, and I remembered exactly how lucky I was. I almost came and sat with you, but I didn't want to be weird." He laughed a little. "And I didn't want a husband or a boyfriend to come out of the bathroom and deck me."
Was that a question? She supposed so. And a reasonable one. "Yeah, the boyfriend was already gone by then."
He nodded. "That happens more than you'd think. My girlfriend made it through my first chemo appointment. A lot of others don't make it that long."
Horror flooded her brain and squeezed her heart. Here she'd been moping because Gary had run off with another woman, but at least he hadn't known she was sick. The timing had just been shitty. But his story ...
"I'm so sorry!"
"Don't be. It was five years ago, and I have four sisters, so I was never alone--even when I wanted to be. Besides, Denise--my ex--never would have gone for my new lifestyle."
Lifestyle? Oh damn. Was he going to turn out to be a swinger or something? Because interested as she was, she was pretty sure she couldn't go for that either. Well, okay maybe once, but it certainly took anything more than sex and friendship off the table.
His laugh rang out, rich and delighted. "I wish you could see the expression on your face right now. You look like I might bust out a pack of sister wives and ask you to join in. I meant the organic farming and everything that goes with it."
"Oh! That!" Relief and chagrin curved her lips. "What were you before?"
"Ah, before." He leaned back, shaking his head as though embarrassed. "Kind of an ass, actually. Well, not an ass, exactly, but pretty proud of myself. I had a big-time sales job, raked in the bucks. Drove the biggest, most ostentatious SUV I could find, lived in a decked-out condo downtown. Thousand-dollar suits every day, hundred-dollar dinners every night. Ridiculous, in hindsight. It all seemed so important then, though. And then the cancer came and my priorities changed and when I started reading, I found out a lot of things I didn't like about our food system and, well, here I am."
"And Denise?"
"Ad exec. I heard she married since. Twice." He glanced over at Therese. "What about you?"
"Not so showy, but along the same lines. I was more about the perfect suburbanite life. Four bedrooms, three baths in a master-planned community, gas-guzzling vehicle, plans to be a stay-at-home mom for my future 2.2 kids." Her voice slipped a little on the last word, and she cleared her throat. Sharing was one
thing, but it was too early in what one might loosely call their relationship for her to fall apart.
It didn't seem to faze him, though, and he didn't pull out the usual reminder about adoption as though she needed to think about alternative options before she'd had a chance to mourn her newly acquired infertility. He wrapped one of her curls around his finger and said, "I had chemo, too." When she nodded through the lump in her throat, he smiled gently. "Your hair is beautiful, by the way. I like the red."
She cleared her throat again. "Yeah, well, the blonde fit the image better. Or so I thought. Now, I'm just ... I'm just done. I traded my beast for a hybrid months ago. I'm listing the house next week." Which was news to her, though she'd intended to do it sometime soon anyway. But as she heard the statement roll off her tongue, she knew it was true all the same. She was suddenly desperate to be rid of the trappings of her old life.
"You're moving?" he asked, taking a too-casual sip of his latte.
"Not far," she rushed to assure him. "I love my job, and I want to volunteer at the hospital and, well, since we're being open, I'm interested, too. In you, I mean. I've been thinking about one of those tiny houses that are all the rage right now. With a gazebo and a big garden. Maybe you could give me some pointers." She blushed furiously and took a long, slow drink of her cider. Surely that was an okay ask since they'd admitted mutual interest and all. When she glanced up, he was grinning from ear to ear.
"Seems like something I could do."