Page 64 of Leo and His Love Bunny

“There’s nothing more to say.”

“When is the right time?” Cal says, and his words are enunciated clearly.

Silence descends, nothing but hard breathing and grunts as they both wait for me to answer.

“I guess I don’t know.” Then I amend my statement. “I guess I’ll have to pray about it and wait for God to show me.”

“You’re using that as a copout.”

Is Pete right? Am I really using that as a copout, rather than doing what I know the Lord wants?

Lord? Am I ignoring you? Am I scared?

As soon as I ask the question, I know that is what it is. I am scared.

I try to figure out what my fear is based on. Losing my wife like I’ve lost my mom?

Yeah. For sure.

Dying and leaving my wife alone, instead of giving her the chance to be married to someone with a longer life expectancy than me?

For sure. And that both of those fears are mostly unfounded. My wife doesn’t have any greater chance than anyone else of dying, and I don’t know if the treatments that I had as a child will give me cancer as an adult or not. It’s a possibility, but should I live my life based on that fear?

Is there anything else I am afraid of?

Maybe that Nora will tell me no.

Yeah, that’s the looming fear. But she kissed me back. My toes get warm just thinking about it. And I almost quit with the squats because I want to savor that feeling. It is the best memory of my life. And I can’t help but smile every time I think about it.

“You’re thinking about her,” Cal says dryly.

“Yeah. Because he’s got that funny smile on his face, the one you have every time you think about anteaters,” Pete says, and he finally puts the bar down.

I resist the urge to crumple to the floor, and instead, set my weights down carefully, and then stand up straight, hands on my hips as my legs try to decide whether or not they are going to continue to hold me.

I don’t bother to deny that I’m thinking about Nora. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I do get a silly smile on my face every time I think about her.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say instead, dropping to the mat and starting to do push-ups, hoping that will let the boys know that I’m done talking. Also, it gives my legs a break.

“You’re not getting any younger. And if you’re just going to keep catering to your fear, what’s the point?”

I’m not sure what Pete is saying. I don’t bother to answer him, focusing on counting my push-ups. I should be able to do three hundred.

“There is no point if you’re living your life based on fear. If you’re making your decisions based on what you’re afraid is going to happen, you’re letting fear run your life, and I don’t think that’s the way you want to be,” Cal says, and for once, he manages to get something wise out of his mouth without talking about anteaters at the same time.

“I don’t see either one of you two in a relationship. And I could say the same thing about your anteaters,” I say to Cal, even though I know it’s a low blow.

But he doesn’t even flinch.

“Maybe you could. Maybe it’s about time I do something.” He grabs a hold of the bar and starts doing pull-ups.

“Maybe I should too. But, I don’t have anyone standing in front of me like you do. I just hate to see you miss out on the best opportunity of your life, because you’re scared.” Pete has picked up the weights I sat down and now he’s doing squats.

I make sure and keep track, because I’m not going to end up feeling like my arms are going to fall off because I refuse to quit doing push-ups because thinking about Nora has sidetracked me.

Although, if things keep up that way, I won’t have to worry about staying in shape.

I know the guys are right. I’m making decisions based on fear. Maybe that’s why I have my sights set on a speaking and writing career, instead of listening to that little voice Nora put in my ear about being a preacher.

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