“Maybe instead of this strange ‘rehearsal,’ as you called it, we can just make a list. What are the things that I need to be aware of to nurture a relationship?”
My eyes popped open. “Oooh, I love lists.”
At that, Nathan smiled. Not at the dozens of awkward jokes I’d cracked nervously. The fact that I liked lists made him smile in a way that seemed to light up the entire bar, and I felt as bright as the Rockefeller Christmas tree right along with it.
“Me too,” he said. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small black book. “I write a lot of them here to remember things. Let’s do one about relationships.”
He opened the book and proceeded to flip through a bunch of pages, much too fast to see what was actually on them.
“I make listsallthe time,” I said with a grin and couldn’t help but blush when I received one right back. “I just don’t write them down.”
Looking absurdly pleased, he pushed the book across the bar. “Would you be willing to start now? Maybe with things I should know about you. Favorite things, dislikes, major dates, etcetera. Information a boyfriend should know.”
“On it!” I flipped the book around toward me and immediately began scrawling the first things I could think of.
Joni’s Top Three
1. Anything dancing. I will move to any kind of music.
2. Peonys
3. Pidgons
Joni’s Bottom Three
1. Bobba tea. Tapioca is gross and way to sweet.
2. Homewerk of any kind. Reading, math its all horrible.
3. Stepping in ice puddels after it snow’s
I passed the book back to him. “My spelling sucks. Now you.”
With an adorable glance over the rims of his glasses, Nathan quickly read through my lists. “Pigeons? Really?”
I nodded. “They’re cute. I like it when the males get all puffed up and trot after the females. They look like little gray footballs.”
With a wry smile, he set to work making his own.
NATHAN’S LIKES
1. VERY GOOD ESPRESSO
2. WHIPPED MASHED POTATOES WITHOUT ANY LUMPS
3. HARPER’S MAGAZINE INDEX
NATHAN’S DISLIKES
1. FOOT MASSAGES OR ANYONE TOUCHING MY FEET
2. SOCIAL MEDIA
3. SMALL TALK
“Looks about right,” I said. “I’ll remember not to rub your feet ever.”
“Please don’t.” Nathan took back the book, turned to a new page, and wrote something across the top before passing it back to me. “If you don’t mind.”
