Must Like Spinach

by Con Riley

  “She must have seen you through the window.” Tyler crouches again to pet the dog until she rolls over, wriggling with pleasure as he baby talks to her. “Did you think I was leaving you for him, Princess? Did you?” Jon chuckles until Tyler adds, “It’s just gonna be sex, Princess. It won’t mean anything to me. You’re still the only one that I love.” He quits his baby talking when Jon crouches too.

  “I….” It’s not often Jon’s lost for words.

  Tyler fills his silence, speaking quietly again. “Let’s get her walked.” He clips a leash to the pug’s harness. “Then I’ll show you somewhere good to eat, like I promised. We still have things to get straight.”

  Jon’s trained to take the lead in business, but when Tyler stands and tugs on the leash, all he can do is follow.

  PRINCESS CRASHES out after a solid half hour running around a dog park. She places her butt squarely between Jon and Tyler where they sit on a patch of grass, enjoying the view over the I-5 toward Elliot Bay. Her growl is a low rumble when Jon attempts to pet her.

  “Hey,” Tyler warns, as he unzips his backpack again. “Be nice. Jonathan’s only visiting.”

  “Jon.”

  Tyler glances sideways, hands buried in his bag. “Really?”

  “I’m Jonathan at work.”

  “Okay.” He pulls out two foil-wrapped packets and a pack of wet-wipes. “Breakfast is served, Jon.”

  Princess pays more attention to Jon after he gets done cleaning his hands and opens the foil wrapping. “PB&J?” he asks. “For real?”

  Tyler already has a mouthful. He nods as he chews and speaks after he swallows. “I said I’d show you good places to eat. I didn’t say anything about what would be on the menu.” When Jon breaks off a corner of bread, about to give it to the dog, Tyler reaches out and stops him. “Don’t.” His grip on Jon’s wrist sets off tingles. “She doesn’t get a treat for growling.” He levels a stern look Princess’s way. “No begging, you hear?” She huffs and grumbles so much that it sounds like she’s talking. “Nope,” Tyler insists. “One thing I learned this year is that I won’t reward bad behavior. Not anymore. Not ever. Not even for cuties like you.”

  Jon eats his sandwich to keep from smiling. He accepts the bottle of water Tyler next offers, as well as a delicious-smelling apple. The first bite he takes is so juicy drops spill over his chin, and Tyler leans over like it’s nothing to dam a trickle with his finger. He moves back almost as fast, finger raised to lips that Jon could get behind kissing right now. He asks a question instead once Tyler’s done eating.

  “Did you want to tell me something about Peggy?”

  “Yes. But not here.” He looks at his watch. “I need to get her back. We’ll take a shortcut.” They follow the same sidewalks for a while until Tyler takes a shady trail. “This way.”

  The pond they end up circling is yet another hidden green part of this city. Tyler unclips the dog’s leash one more time, and she sends ducks flapping upward as she runs, their quacks loud and echoing. Tyler stops at a bench and shrugs his bag from his shoulders. He sits and pulls it into his lap, unzipping a pocket. “About Peggy,” he says, and pulls out a handful of pale yellow Post-its covered in her writing. “She’s been leaving these out for me all week. This one was on my pillow Monday night.”

  Jon sits and takes a look.

  I think Jonathan must be lonely.

  That smarts, if he’s honest. He’s not lonely; he’s just alone here. And then he thinks, as Tyler walks away to throw a stick for Princess, that maybe Peggy’s words have a ring of real truth. Isn’t the opposite of lonely having company that you choose—people who you want to be with? Okay, he’s lived in chock-full cities and shared living quarters with plenty of people, but when was the last time he did this? Simply went out and shot the shit with someone unrelated to his work? Hardly any of the Facebook notifications he’s gotten in the last few weeks are personal. Most of them were status updates from the other guys on the program, so they didn’t count exactly. And hookups didn’t either.

  He reads the next note rather than linger on that last thought.

  Jonathan keeps me company when he doesn’t have to.

  Well, that part was easy. Peggy was very entertaining, and it didn’t hurt that she fed him. It does make him wonder aloud. “You think she’s okay back there on her own?” Tyler’s shrug isn’t a real answer, and Jon muses some more. Weekends were a wildcard. Without the structure of weekday chores and crossword puzzles, she’d find other ways to keep busy. “Did you talk to her before you left?” he calls out as Tyler returns from throwing another stick for the dog. “She knows to stay out of the garage while we’re not there, doesn’t she?”

  Tyler simply sits down and stares, his blinks slow and his tone wondering. “You can’t help yourself, can you?” The next note confirms that Peggy thinks the same thing.

  Once he starts caring, he can’t stop.

  That Post-it is creased, like someone folded it tight a few times. Jon turns it over in his palm, like he turns over the words in his head. Caring isn’t a concept he’s ever thought about in the abstract—the word conjures a mental image of the garden. He cares about spending time there after work each evening, where office politics don’t exist and compost replaces bullshit.

  The second to last note is a tough read.

  He’s closed off so he doesn’t have to miss more people than he does already.

  He swallows hard a few times, note crumpling in his hand, and Tyler slides closer until their legs press together. Sunlight slices through the canopy of boughs over their heads, and Jon blinks as if the beams blind him. His voice is low and rough when he says, “I do miss my mom sometimes.” Almost a year is just enough time to soften the rough edges of that loss.

  Tyler’s reply is quiet. “Me too.”

  “It’s strange,” Jon continues, halting and uncertain, lulled into confession by Tyler’s quietness and this peaceful setting. “Since getting here, I’ve been thinking about what she wanted for me a whole lot. Sometimes, when I talk to Peggy, I’m surprised it isn’t my mom who answers.”

  “Me too,” Tyler echoes. When he reaches for the note in Jon’s hand, their fingers slide together. Accidental or not, Jon doesn’t let go, and Tyler’s grip subtly tightens.

  The last note provokes laughter.

  He’d make a lovely boyfriend.

  Jon turns his head Tyler’s way. “She really tried to sell me to you, eh?”

  They’re only inches apart.

  The curve of Tyler’s smile is small, bracketed on one side by an indent he suddenly wants to press his lips to. It fills Jon’s entire field of vision for a protracted moment, and he slowly leans in.

  “I have to go,” Tyler abruptly stands. “I start my next job at eleven, and I still need to shower and change.” He lets go of Jon’s hand to pick up his backpack. When he straightens, he’s all business. “She really believes, you know? In true love and romance? I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her that this is nothing serious.”

  “I— Okay.”

  “Good.” They take Princess home together and then head back. Tyler eats an apple as they walk, talking about the last-minute shift he’s covering for a friend, until they get to the driveway.

  “So….” Tyler wipes juice from his own chin. “I get off at six, if you want to—”

  “Yes.” Jon says. “I want.”

  “Wow. Peggy wasn’t wrong, was she? When you make up your mind, you go all in.” Tyler’s suddenly as flushed as the half-eaten rosy apple in his hand, which presses damply at the nape of Jon’s neck when he makes his move. “I’ll see you later,” he says, his lips close to Jon’s until he pulls him down so their mouths meet.

  It’s a quick kiss, just a brush of apple-scented damp lips before Tyler backs off. And it’s matter-of-fact, just like Tyler’s offer. But for once, as Jon climbs to his front door, it’s not the stairway shifting that leaves him unsteady.

  Chapter 15

  LATER, JON clos
es his laptop. There’s no point trying to do any more work when rephrasing a single sentence just took twenty minutes. The sound of a truck pulling up in the driveway downstairs is a welcome distraction. Only peering through his window doesn’t leave him any less keyed up. Instead, the sight of Tyler standing at the driver-side window, laughing with whoever gave him a ride home sparks a flare of envy. A week or so ago, he would’ve wondered what Tyler was up to, suspicious about his motivations. Now he just wants to know what the driver said to set off that peal of laughter.

  He gets to hear it again only a half hour later. The first low groan of the stairway is an early warning that Tyler’s on his way up. Jon opens the front door before he hits the top step.

  “Wow. Look at you!” Tyler slows up and takes the last few steps at his leisure. He’s casual in jeans and a T-shirt again, but he laughs like he’s tickled pink by Jon’s button-down shirt and jacket. “Someone pulled out all the stops.” His touch to Jon’s lapel is light, skimming it with the back of his fingers like he’s assessing the quality of the fabric. “Very nice. You got a hot date or something?”

  “Maybe.” It’s hard not to smile when Tyler’s so delighted.

  Tyler fakes taking a step back. “Shame. I was planning on showing you another good place to eat.” He looks Jon up and down again. “But it looks like you’re ready for someone to take you somewhere fancy.”

  Jon looks down. “Should I go change?”

  “Nope.” Tyler threads a finger through one of his belt loops and tugs. His whisper is toothpaste scented. “Pretty sure we got an audience.” Sure enough, Peggy’s on her porch, hands clasped over her heart. “It’s either real sweet or very creepy.”

  “It’s sweet,” Jon insists. “She’s sweet.”

  Tyler’s kiss is too, catching Jon unawares, even though they stand close. It’s another too-brief brush of lips; hello rather than let’s fuck.

  “There. Now she can go phone the girls and gossip about being the best matchmaker in King County.” Tyler’s moving before Jon can lean in for more, tripping easily down the steps like their wobble doesn’t faze him. “Come on,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’m starved. Bring your car keys and let’s go eat.”

  They get in the car, and Jon pulls out. “Where am I headed?”

  “Downtown.” Tyler gives directions and then smooths a hand over the leather of his seat. “Nice ride. It come with the job?”

  “Yes. It’s part of the expense package, like covering my rent. I didn’t realize how much it covered until I was on the way here.”

  “You came out here not knowing?”

  Jon keeps his eyes on the road and nods. “I knew there would be some kind of arrangement. Like where I live in New York.”

  “Take a left here.” Tyler shifts in his seat, turning some to face him. “They covered your rent there too? Wow. I’m guessing it wasn’t someplace with a backyard like here.”

  “Hardly.” Maybe he huffs too hard.

  “You didn’t like it even though it was free?”

  “I hated it.” That truth was impossible to keep in. “Not the city itself—New York’s like nowhere on earth. You ever been?” He glimpses Tyler’s negative headshake. “You should. Everyone should. It makes this place seem like a small town. But living there in the company apartment was like walking into one of those reality TV shows. There was always someone stirring the pot or making a deal with the devil to screw over the others. Bettmen encourages that kind of crap on purpose. It’s why they make us live together.”

  “They want you to learn to be team players?” It’s a logical question.

  “You’d think.” That had been his starting point as well, an illusion that had quickly shattered. “But no. They want a different kind of person.” Some time out of that particular situation made that much clear to him at least. “Every team I ever played on in high school worked together to win. Not too many of those guys I live with want to play by those rules. They’d be happy to trip whoever got the ball right before the goal line if that meant stealing a moment of glory. A couple of them are okay, I guess.” He shakes his head.

  “But the rest are assholes?”

  “So much.” The best thing about the long hours he put in was that at least he hardly saw them. “I guess it’s all part of wanting a shot at junior partner.”

  “And that’s what you want?”

  They wait for a stoplight to change. Jon opens his mouth before snapping it closed. Admitting he’s having a work-related crisis seems heavy for a first date. “I’m here, aren’t I?” is what slips out instead.

  “So you were sent here to show what you can do on your own? Did the others too?”

  “I was the first. I heard last week that half of the others did as well.”

  “What about the rest?” Tyler seems fascinated. He taps on the console, punctuating his point. “Tell me what happened to them.”

  “Canned.” It’s a one-word answer describing an outcome he felt sure had been headed his way. “They didn’t make it, so they got sent home.” He doesn’t add that he only made the cut due to luck and a favor. “So those of us who are left get three months to show what we can do with someone else’s business. Showcase strategic thinking. That kinda thing.”

  “Sounds a whole lot more exciting than flipping burgers or dog walking.” Tyler sighs and then rallies. “So living with them in New York was why you wanted an apartment to yourself here?”

  “Yeah. I spent the whole flight out here looking at places online.”

  “And you chose Peggy’s?”

  Jon takes another look in Tyler’s direction and catches his skeptical expression.

  “Why the hell did you settle for it? Especially after seeing it before I got a chance to clean up after Danny?” His voice trails off. He clears his throat and then adds. “Anyway, it sounds like you had the budget to do better for yourself.”

  “Mostly it was the ad,” Jon admits. “I didn’t know I wanted outdoor space until I saw it online. Somewhere to see seasons first hand for real instead of through a window, you know?” Getting to grow stuff is an unexpected bonus. Now that he’s had a month of doing so, he never wants to quit getting up before his alarm to check how his plants are doing.

  “Yeah? You liked the ad?” There’s that peal of laughter again. “Peggy wrote the description. I told her no one normal would reply if I put ‘Must like spinach’ right at the top of the listing.” He hums along with the radio for a minute. “Maybe she knew you’d be looking for someplace exactly like it.”

  “You think?”

  “You’re kinda perf—” He breaks off to say, “See that place with four white pillars?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Pull up just past it. There’s a parking lot.”

  Once parked, Jon unfastens his seatbelt and swivels in his seat to mirror Tyler’s position. “I’m kinda perfect, you say?”

  Tyler unfastens his seatbelt to lean over the console. “Perfect for Peggy. Now quit fishing. I already said you can be perfect for me for a few dates.” His gaze drops to Jon’s mouth. It’s a simple signal Jon has no trouble reading. He leans in, and this time their kiss lingers. It’s soft at the start until both of them adjust position. The slick press of Tyler’s tongue is all it takes for Jon to get serious, his mouth opening so he can kiss back. It’s a rush to feel Tyler tighten his grip on his biceps before he slides his hands up to cup Jon’s face like he’s scared he might pull back.

  Only the sound of Tyler’s stomach loudly rumbling interrupts them. He sits back, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t kidding. I really am starved.” He inclines his head. “How about you?”

  “I could eat.” Jon gets out of the car. “Not sure you can beat that PB&J though.”

  Tyler doesn’t answer. He simply points across the street at a yellow vehicle parked at the roadside.

  “You’re kidding? A food truck?”

  “Don’t knock it ’til you try it.” The scent of seared meat and cilantr
o reaches where they stand.

  “Is that…?” Jon inhales deeply through his nose. “That’s….” He sniffs again. “Cajun?”

  “Come on.” Tyler’s hand, at the small of his back, remains in place after they cross the street. It only drops when they give their order. Tyler reaches for his wallet, ignoring Jon’s offer to pay. “I got this.” He presses takeout containers into his hands and grabs a handful of napkins.

  “Okay,” Jon says as Tyler slides a couple of forks into his back pocket and grasps a couple of root beers. “I’m sold on the food.” To be honest, he’d have been as happy with another homemade sandwich, but Tyler’s clearly into this, face bright with pleasure in a way that makes Jon question all his skills of observation. How the hell did he miss that he wears his emotions right there on the surface? “But what about the ‘great place to eat’ part of the deal? There’s nothing even close to great about this location.”

  “Have some faith, Jon.” They walk a while before Tyler steps off the sidewalk under a brick-built arch marking part of the SU campus. The walkway is lined with trees Jon can only guess the name of, and the pathway leads to a lawn dotted with picnic benches. Students shouldering backpacks pass by, while others toss a Frisbee in the lowering sunlight.

  “It’s quieter here so close to the end of the semester before summer classes get started,” Tyler says. He sets the root beers down on one of the benches and slides onto the seat. His glance is almost shy as he says, “Thought you might like a walk through the campus with me after.” He slides a folded piece of paper out from his back pocket along with their forks and sets it between them.

  Jon picks it up. The map is faded, like printing it used up the last of Tyler’s ink, but he can still make out an aerial view of the campus, numbers indicating planted areas the university is proud of. Words jump out that Tyler’s highlighted in yellow. Contemplation and serenity are two. Remembrance is another.

  Tyler runs a finger underneath the first word. “I’ve seen what happens in the backyard. When you zone out, Peggy calls it contemplating.” His finger hovers over the word serenity next. “Anyone ever tell you that you can get intense, but you calm the fuck down whenever you get to digging?” He divides their stack of napkins. “Peggy says you use your hands to process what you’re thinking.”