Page 59 of Leo and His Love Bunny

In fact, she might have put in more hours than I have, I don’t really know. How do you quantify such a thing?

We have a really great time the rest of the evening, and as the sun slowly sets, I help her family gather up all the extra food and put it away. Her mom tries to send leftovers home with me, but I wave them all off, all except for the absolutely phenomenal strawberry cheesecake cupcakes that Nora apparently only makes on the Fourth of July.

“Is there a reason you only make these once a year? Is it because everyone around you would weigh five hundred pounds if you made them more often?”

I’ve eaten three, and I’m holding a fourth in my hand. I tell myself I’ll do some extra reps at the gym tomorrow, but I know enough about calorie burning that a few extra reps are not going to wear these off.

“It just makes them special, that’s all. The Fourth of July is my favorite holiday.”

I thought she was looking a little starry eyed when we started looking at the flag and talking about the fireworks earlier. It’s the little things that I enjoy knowing about her.

“And speaking of earlier,” she says, looking up at me. I’ve just taken a bite of the fourth cupcake, and I’ve got to tell you, the fourth cupcake is every bit as delicious as the first. I’ll be lucky if I stop at this one. “Why did you not correct my brother when he called you my boyfriend?”

I choke. Literally. Only I cannot spit out any of this cupcake, so I end up doing some kind of half-cough thing, with my mouth closed and my eyes watering, as I work to get the cupcake out of my lungs and figure out what in the world I’m going to tell her.

She smacks me on the back a few times, which actually helps, and eventually I’m able to breathe again. I suppose I keep the cupcake in my mouth a little bit longer than I need to, even though I’m enjoying every second of tasting it.

Finally, I swallow and I really have nothing else to do but answer her.

“I don’t know.”

That’s the naked truth.

I just didn’t want to. I suppose that’s the even more naked truth.

“I just wondered. I can correct it later,” she says simply, and then she turns and watches the sky where there’s still a faint glow where the sun has gone down.

It gives me a little bit of time to try to think of something else to say, to add, but fireworks start before I think of anything.

I want to tell her that that’s what I want. That I didn’t think I wanted a relationship, but I actually do. With her. Not with anyone else.

We’re sitting side by side, and it feels natural for me to put my arm around her. I don’t pull her close, and there’s still space between us, but she kind of tilts her head in my direction, which makes me think that she doesn’t mind at all.

Would she mind being my girlfriend?

I don’t want to have just a casual relationship though. And I don’t want to not be the partner that she deserves. Plus, I don’t want to work to have a relationship that doesn’t end in marriage. It just seems like a waste of time. And there’s the issue of my mortality, which was already higher than most. Now, with my dad, maybe I’ve inherited his propensity to cancer as well. That wouldn’t be fair to her.

It’s something I know I need to pray about more.

The fireworks end in a grand finale of beauty and excitement, and they feel like they were extraordinarily good this year, or maybe that is just the way it feels with Nora beside me.

The rain that has been threatening all afternoon has held off, and the folks watching clap before they gather their things up and hurry off to try to beat the rush of traffic and the rain.

“Is it okay if I walk you home?” I ask, feeling like a teenage boy on his first date. That’s how nervous I am.

“I’d love it. I need to help Mom carry things back to the car first. Do you...want to try to see your dad and stepfamily?” she asks, sounding a little hesitant

Probably because I act weird when she brings them up. I can’t get over the fact that my stepmother is a gold digger, but she’s family, and I should be treating her like she is, not hanging back and holding off.

I determine to do better. I want to do better for Nora, because that’s the kind of man she thinks I am, but I also want to do better because I want to be that kind of man.

We walk to her mom’s car, me carrying the cooler and her carrying the empty container where her cupcakes used to be, along with a couple of other casseroles of leftovers.

The family has pretty much divided everything up, and I thank them again for allowing me to eat and they say how nice it was to meet me.

“Looks like we’re going to get that rain after all,” her dad says as thunder rumbles in the distance and they put the last of the stuff in the car.

“I guess so,” I say, having not really noticed what the weather is going to do. It seems like when I’m with Nora, the only thing I can think about is her.

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