“So, does Josh play over here a lot?” I asked my dad.
My dad smiled over at me as I set the patio table. “Once in a while.”
“I can’t believe you kept the trampoline. I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen apart yet.”
“I replaced the springs and mat.”
“Well, I guess I better put them to good use. I’ll be back.”
My dad grinned and winked at me as I walked down the steps of our deck.
As I approached Ryan, he smiled at me again, and seriously, my stomach was having a party. He needed to quit doing that.
Josh called out, “Cherry!” as he bounced and bounced, albeit not very high. He seemed cautious, which surprised me.
When I reached the trampoline, I slipped off my flip-flops and jumped right on.
Ryan raised his eyebrow at me.
“You obviously need a lesson on how to have fun on a trampoline.”
“I’m too old to jump.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “If you say so.” I turned my attention to Josh.
He smiled big at me. He was seriously adorable, and I had a feeling someday he would be a lady killer. He was a good mixture of his gorgeous parents.
I took his little hands in mine. “Do you want to sing a song?”
He nodded his head yes.
“Ok, ready?” I began jumping in a circle with him. “Ring around thе rosy, а pocket full оf posies, ashes, ashes, we аll fall down!” I bounced on my bum and Josh followed me.
He giggled loudly. “Again!” he cried.
I happily complied with his request. We did it a few more times, and he was getting the hang of the song. By the fourth time he would say loudly, “We all fall down.”
I looked over to Ryan who looked at me thoughtfully. “Do you want to join in? I promise we’ll go easy on you, old man.” I winked.
He thought about it for a moment, then Josh said, “Please, Daddy.”
You would have to be heartless to say no to that sweet little voice, and did I mention his chubby cheeks and dimples? If he were my kid, he would get away with everything.
Ryan slipped off his boat shoes and hopped on. “Go gentle on me, this is my first time.”
“You may make a good smart-aleck yet,” I said in response.
Josh immediately took his dad’s hand. It was then I realized, Hey, I get to hold Ryan’s hand. The butterflies were so happy, they swore. I won’t repeat what they said, but let’s just say it was salty. It was kind of awkward when Ryan hesitated. It didn’t do much for my ego, or my self-esteem, but I tried to play it off. “You can wash your hands after we’re done.”
He immediately grabbed my hand and half smirked at me. “I don’t have to sing, do I?”
“Yes, of course you have to. It’s not fun if you don’t sing.”
He looked at me warily.
“What? Do you need help with the words?” I asked.
“I think I’ve got it.”
“Great, you can start us off then.” I winked.
He narrowed his gorgeous eyes at me and then turned to his son, who was not so patiently waiting for us to start. “Ok, buddy, ready?”
Josh was beyond ready, and he started jumping and singing, “Rings da rounds da rosies …”
So cute!
His dad was obviously out of his element, and he sang quietly as we jumped. He barely fell down, but I noticed he dropped my hand as quick as he could.
I shook my head at him. “Now we have to do it again.”
“Why?”
“Because that was lame.”
“Are you calling me lame?”
“I’m sorry to say this, but yes.”
“Daddy lame,” Josh repeated, though I’m pretty sure he had no idea what that meant.
“Now my kid thinks I’m lame, thanks.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m sure he would’ve figured it out sooner or later.” I smiled wickedly.
“You’re really not how I remembered.”
“You keep saying that.”
Ryan stood back up. “Well, I guess I better prove to my kid you’re wrong about me.” He held out his hand to me and helped me up.
I’m not going to lie, I liked the feel of my hand in his. It kind of did something to me, or maybe for me. I knew it meant nothing, but geez, I was thinking about how many times I could get him to keep doing this without looking like an idiot. We only ended up doing it a few more times, but by the time we were done, Ryan was jumping the highest and singing the loudest. I guess he wanted to prove he wasn’t lame. He did an excellent job, and it was quite comical. I did my best not to laugh. I figured I looked just as silly jumping, falling, and singing ridiculous songs about the plague.
“Dinner’s ready,” my dad called out.
Ryan quickly made his way off the trampoline and carefully lifted his son off. I loved how he hugged him tight when he picked him up. You could tell he loved his son.
“What are you smiling about?” Ryan brought me out of my thoughts about him.
I jumped off the trampoline in my embarrassment. “Do I need a reason to smile?”
“I suppose not.” He smiled back.
Gosh, he really needed to quit doing that.
Dinner was fun and delicious. I forgot what an excellent cook my dad was. He made up his own recipes, and he was a genius. He came up with this homemade batter that he used to cook the fish in, and it was to die for. It probably wasn’t helping my butt cause, but it was tasty. Even Josh liked it. I was surprised, I didn’t think a three-year-old would eat fish, but Ryan told me Josh ate about anything. He was lucky. I had taken enough child development classes to know that wasn’t always the case, and I had seen plenty of Mark’s grandkids throw a fit about eating vegetables and even noodles.
The conversation topics varied. It ran the gamut from sports to, of course, the office. I was hoping we wouldn’t talk about the office, but I suppose it was inevitable. Sadly, I understood everything they were talking about. The pros and cons of being a C Corp versus an S Corp, the maximum limit on social security taxes, and the new Medicare tax. It all made me feel a little nauseated. I would have rather talked about mental illness, personality disorders, the neocortex and phobias, anything but accounting, but I tried to stay engaged. I even threw out some of my acquired knowledge. It made my dad proud, and Ryan looked mildly impressed with my tax code lingo.
One thing everyone, including Josh, was impressed with was my dessert, but I think more got on Josh’s face than in his mouth. I guess he was still fine tuning his skills with the spoon.
“Well, I guess I better go and get Josh cleaned up before Victoria comes to get him,” Ryan said after we finished dessert. He turned to my dad, “Dinner was excellent as always. Thanks, Jeff.” He said it like this was a common occurrence. I also noticed how the two of them acted like the best of friends. It was a little odd. I mean, my dad was practically old enough to be Ryan’s dad, but the age gap didn’t seem to hinder their relationship at all. I guess a lot had happened since I had been gone. Then Ryan turned his attention to me before he picked up his son. “Dessert was delicious.”
“Thank you.”
“I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”
“That’s the plan,” I said without sighing in resignation regarding my fate.
“I look forward to working with you,” he responded.
“Me, too.” At least that was true, but only because it meant I could ogle him on occasion.
Ryan smiled at me and carefully picked up his very messy son.
I stood up and grabbed Josh’s messy hand. “Bye, Josh.”
“Bye, Cherry.” He waved with his dirty free hand.
“Cherry?” my dad commented.
“At least it’s more feminine than Charlee,” I teased my dad.
“Hey, Charlee is a perfectly feminine name.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, dad. Tell that to all the guys named Charlie.”
Ryan and my dad chuckled.
&n
bsp; On that note, we saw our guests out.
Chapter Five
As soon as they were out the door, my dad turned to me with excitement in his eyes. “We still on for some b-ball?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes.”
My dad’s whole countenance shone. It was like I’d just handed him the grand prize. Did it mean that much to him? He was so eager, he suggested we clean up after we played. I agreed to the suggestion. I ran down quickly and threw on my running shoes. I hadn’t owned basketball shoes in forever. I grabbed the new basketball my dad had given me, and that smell made my senses come to life. Oh, how I had missed the game, and oh, how I had missed the man that taught me how to love the game.
I almost felt ten again as I ran up the stairs with my ball in hand. How many times had my dad gotten me out of chores so that I could practice basketball? I knew it annoyed my mom, but my dad had this way of talking her into it. My dad was the best coach and fan. He never missed one of my games, even if it meant traveling around the state and missing work. How did everything get so turned around? How could one careless act ruin so much? I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and met my dad outside. I can do this, I thought. I can move past the past and the hurt and confusion.
My dad was anxiously waiting for me by the basketball hoop, the one that was installed before we even moved in. I’m pretty sure the house was designed around the driveway and basketball hoop.
I did a bounce pass to my dad, and suddenly the game was on. I felt like myself as I got in my defensive stance. It was like yesterday. I could still hear my dad say, “… butt low to the ground, CJ, put the weight on the balls of your feet, make sure you slide, but never lose contact with the ground.”
And, of course, the smack talk was on. “Come on, old man,” I chided my dad as he was trying to get past me for a layup. He did a fast break, but not fast enough. I easily took the ball from him and dribbled back, and without almost any effort, I made the prettiest shot—nothing but net, two points.
I had forgotten how much I missed my sport. I think we both missed it. We were out playing until the sun began to set. We could have stayed out longer because we had lights installed, but two hours of playing was my limit since my legs were still burning from squats earlier in the day. I definitely had burned off any extra calories I had taken in throughout the day, and the bonus was I beat my dad, if only by two points. Actually, I think he let me win by calling the game over as my last shot went in.
My dad put his arm around me as I was downing my second water bottle of the game, “You still got it, kiddo.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, for an old guy.”
“Old guy? I could have had you.”
“Sure, Dad.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Let’s stop by the shoe store tomorrow and get you some real shoes.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.”
“Woman or kid, you’re going to sprain an ankle or worse wearing those shoes when we play.”
“Ok, fine, but take it out of my first paycheck.”
He winked at me, which meant he wouldn’t.
Just when we were ready to walk in, I noticed Ryan walk out with Victoria. He had a sleeping Josh in his arms. Victoria, from what I could tell, still looked like a Victoria’s Secret model. Her hair was maybe a tad shorter, but she was still gorgeous, and Ryan still looked at her like he had feelings for her. She, on the other hand, acted aloof. After Ryan placed his sleeping buddy in the car, I could tell he tried to engage her in conversation, but she wasn’t having it. She left quickly.
I probably shouldn’t have stared, but I was still puzzled by their relationship. Ryan watched them drive off, and to my embarrassment, we locked eyes when he turned around. I quickly waved before I turned around and followed my dad in. I really needed to watch myself around him, but it was so easy to get lost while looking at him. I didn’t know what it was about him, but he’d always had that effect on me. I had always thought it was just a silly teenage crush, but now that we were both older, I wasn’t so sure. He made me feel different than any other man I had ever been around. I thought back to all of our interactions throughout the day, especially on the trampoline and at dinner, and there was just something about his mannerisms. He was a thoughtful person, and I really admired what a good father he seemed to be. He was attentive and loving to Josh.
I went to bed that night and prayed for two things: first that my dreams would be fabulously steamy and the main star would be Ryan. Secondly, that when I woke up in the morning, I would be a psychologist, not an accountant. Apparently, I hadn’t been very good because I dreamt I was naked at Krissy’s wedding, and it wasn’t pretty. Do you know how mortifying it is to walk down an aisle nude, carrying one single rose? I mean, my brain couldn’t even think to give me a large bouquet to cover up part of myself. And the other bad news? I was going to be an accountant.
With that, I dragged myself out of bed at five-thirty, stretched, and got ready to run. If I was going to be naked at a wedding, I was determined to look my best.
My dad wasn’t even up when I walked upstairs. It was too dang early to be up, but I guess I was a real adult now. I left my dad a note, just in case he worried where I was. It was weird to have someone worry about me, at least the way a parent worries about you.
I crept out of the house and out the back fence. The sun was barely up. I yawned and thought of that stupid dress, and I trudged forward, although I was really sore from the day before. Between running, squats, and basketball, I was wiped by the time I made it to bed, but it had been a good day. I needed that game with my dad. I think he needed it more than me.
To my surprise, when I opened the gate, Ryan was coming out of his gate. I really needed to quit meeting him with no make-up on.
“Good morning,” he called out as he walked my way.
I looked at him in all of his glory, the sun illuminating him from behind. Yes, it was a very good morning. “Hi,” I said back.
We stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither of us saying anything. Then, of course, we decided to speak at the same time.
“Well, have a good run,” I started to say.
And he said something I didn’t quite catch.
We both smiled.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.
“Do you want to run together?”
Uh, this was good. “Sure, that would … “
“It’s really not safe for you to run by yourself.”
Oh, so this was not good. He was just doing it because he saw me as a kid that needed protection. That was disappointing. I didn’t say anything, I just headed out on the trail. He followed and kept pace by my side. His presence annoyed me, well maybe not totally, he looked too good to be a complete nuisance.
I got the feeling I was holding him back. I was a good runner, at least I used to be, but I wasn’t at my peak at the moment. “You don’t need to babysit me, I’ve been running for years by myself.”
He looked over at me with brows furrowed. “Consider this a neighborly gesture.”
I shook my head at him and faced forward.
“No quips this morning?” he taunted me.
“I’m saving my wit for worthier opponents.”
He motioned like I’d just stabbed him in the heart. “That hurts. And to think, I’ve been practicing comebacks all night in preparation for seeing you today.” He looked over at me and dazzled me with his smile.
I was suddenly not annoyed with him anymore. “So, let’s hear some of your brilliance.”
“That’s not how it works. First you have to say something worthy of the gems I came up with.”
“Who uses words like gems?” I laughed.
“What’s wrong with gems?”
“Well, nothing if you’re in an AARP commercial.”
He looked down at me with wide eyes.
“That was your opportunity to throw out one of your gems.”
He thought for a moment and then an
other moment. Before he could come up with something, I spoke again.
“I think you may have to practice some more. I bet you can google ‘comebacks’.”
He laughed. “Ok, you win.”
“That wasn’t much of a competition.”
“You’re really bruising my ego this morning.”
I wanted to say the same thing to him, but I kept it to myself. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you came up with some really great gems.”
“How about this, I’ll race you to the bench about a quarter of a mile up.”
“Are you serious?”
“I have to earn my man card back somehow.”
“Fine. On your mark, get set, go,” I said super quickly, and I picked up my pace around ‘mark’ and took him off guard.
“Hey, cheater,” he called out to me.
I was barely ahead of him. My lead only lasted for a brief moment. He breezed by me, smirking. That I couldn’t have. I dug in deep and caught up to him. He put his arm out to hold me back. I ducked under it and ran past him. With seemingly no effort, he caught up to me and pulled me back. By now I was laughing and couldn’t sustain my pace. He was laughing, too, but he was a much better runner than me. He beat me, hands down.
I faux bowed down to him once I reached him. He took great delight in it.
“At least now I won’t go into work feeling emasculated.”
“Yeah, you can tell everyone you beat a girl.” I winked.
“There’s no shame in it.”
From there we had a pleasant run, except for the stupid stitch in my side, which I tried to ignore. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction by drawing attention to it.
“You should run the Bolder Boulder this year,” he said, just as we could see our houses.
“Isn’t that next week?”
“Yeah, on Memorial Day.”
The Bolder Boulder is a huge 10K race that takes place every year in Boulder.
Trouble in Loveland Page 7
