How’s your day?
On paper, Emma is the perfect woman for me. So why did I get a sinking feeling in my gut when I saw her name on my phone?Give it more time, I tell myself. I told Jett that I didn’t know if I had feelings for her because I didn’t have enough time. I haven’t had a real chance to get to know her yet. So, here’s my chance.
About to take Ruby for a walk. Want to join?
Three little dots swirl around before a response finally comesthrough.
Sure. Meet me on Main Street in front of Rose Antiques in ten? I’m closing up now.
“Okay, Rubes. Put your best paw forward, you’re going to make a new friend today,” I tell Ruby as we head out of the apartment and down the street towards Main. The sun is low in the sky, the afternoon bleeding into evening. But the air is warm and sweet, and birds trill happily in the trees overhead.
Emma is standing out front of Alma’s store when we approach. Her dog, Murphy, is sitting calmly by her side but hides behind her legs as Ruby approaches. He’s cute, not even half the size of Ruby, with curly, cream-coloured fur and floppy ears.
“Sorry, he’s shy with bigger dogs,” Emma explains.
“No worries, Ruby doesn’t know how to read a room. She wants to be friends with everyone.”
“Kind of like you.” Emma smiles, a bright, pink-lipped, blindingly white-toothed smile. “Not like that. I didn’t mean you don’t know how to read the room. I’m sure you do. You’re friendly, is all.” She backtracks, and I sense a little bit of awkwardness on her part.
It takes me a moment to realize why she’s suddenly feeling bashful around me when our last two dates have been nothing but comfortable. It’s our third date—if you’d classify a casual dog walk as a date. And our dinner date the other night was nice, nothing special. No sparks. But by the third date, something usually progresses, whether clarifying exclusivity or … something physical. The thought of either of those two progressions in our relationship makes my palms sweat.
“I know what you meant,” I reassure her, although inside I’m feeling the opposite of reassured myself.
We walk the first block in silence, the dogs gently tugging on their leashes as they walk a few paces ahead of us. It’s not a totally comfortable silence. When we do finally break it, we both speak at the same time.
“You go,” Emma says.
“I was going to say that I love this walk. I bring Ruby to the river almost every day,” I say as we reach the end of Main Street, where the storefronts turn into front lawns and the street breaks off into side roads. There’s a short trail through the trees at the end of a cul-de-sac leading out to the river and then follows alongside it.
When we reach the trail, I let Ruby off her leash, and she moseys off to sniff in the bushes on the side. Emma unclips the leash from Murphy’s collar too, and he bounds off after Rubes, obviously having warmed up to her.
The rushing of the water drowns out my thoughts when I need it to, and today it has the same effect. I find my shoulders relaxing once we see the pristine blue glacier water weaving it’s way through the valley.
“Heartwood is beautiful. I can’t believe I’ve never made the effort to visit before now,” Emma says, and from there we fall into an easier conversation.
“Yeah, why haven’t you been back? I’ve been meaning to ask. You said you and your grandmother have maintained a close relationship, so I’ve been curious.”
“Her and my mother didn’t see eye to eye.” Emma turnsto look off towards the river. “I had to keep my relationship with Alma a secret for a long time, but she helps me feel connected to my roots. It’s complicated.”
“I get that,” I say, unsure how to keep the conversation flowing. “Have you enjoyed your time here so far?”
“I have.” She turns slightly toward me as she walks, flashing me another smile. She does have a killer smile. “People here have been so welcoming. It feels good to be forming some new relationships.”
“Good, I’m glad,” I say, turning my gaze towards the mountains. Awkwardness creeps back over me as I consider how I might veer the topic away from talking about whatever our relationship is, and how, by ‘people’, she might be referring to me.
“It’s okay if you just want to be friends, you know,” Emma says, and it nearly halts me in my tracks. Whatever I expected Emma to say next, it was not that.
“I, uh—” I stammer. I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know how to tell Emma that her being the one to say it feels like relief … it feels like permission.
“Sometimes it’s obvious when there isn’t a spark, you know?”
I nod. I do know.
“I’m sorry” is the only lame response I can think of to say. I glance over to where the dogs are happily sniffing as we walk along the river, unaware of the awkward conversation happening here.
“Don’t be, Hudson. I’m not looking for a relationship right now, anyways.” By the wistful way Emma looks off towards the setting sun behind the mountains, Ican tell there’s more to the story than she’s letting on. “I’d be happy if we could be friends while I’m in town, though. It’s nice to have someone here to talk to, to do normal, everyday things with.”
I nod and turn my head now to look at her. A soft smile forms on my lips.
