Wisteria Cottage

Bicycle for two

Carter

The next few days I see Finn everywhere except in my bed which is where I'd really like to see him. He's at the coffee shop of course, I see him ride by the cottage once, and I spy him down at the dock one morning when I'm doing my run. We're pleasant at the cafe but he's just out of my reach and this stupid, annoying thing between us keeps getting worse. I think I have a crush. I'm 31 years old, which by my calculations is at least 10 years too late to be getting googly-eyed over some boy.

I'm going a bit stir crazy and it's a gorgeous day so I head down to the farmers market. I admit that I may have been a bit distracted and not been thinking quite straight because I find myself walking home with two pounds of cheese in a small cooler sack that I've been told I can just return next week which is weird. Who loans out stuff just to sell twenty dollars of cheese? I also may have bought a few premade burger patties which I stuffed in the cooler as well, some fancy brioche buns, all the fixings including homemade barbeque sauce, corn on the cob, plums, some gorgeous apples, a loaf of fresh bread, a wooden toy for my nephew, and a watermelon.

Getting the watermelon home is proving to be challenging. Especially without squashing the bread. And then the bag rips and I end up hugging it to my chest, a bag hanging off one wrist and the cooler bag from the other. I look like Steve Martin from the 'Jerk'. This is all I need.

Except apparently the universe decides that I also need Finn to ride up like a knight in shining armor on his bike. For a second, I think he's going to ride past me but then he stops and turns, flashing me that sweet smile. "Need a hand?"

I look longingly at the empty trailer and realize that there is literally no reason except pride to say no. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all. Climb in."

WHAT? Uh, no. "I'll walk. Can you just take the watermelon?"

"Whatever you want. Going back to Wisteria?" And that's that. He pedals slowly as I speedwalk next to him. One block later I toss the cooler in when he's not looking. Then the other bag goes in too. He doesn't seem to even notice the weight and I guess he doesn't. He's more than used to biking around here, often with a ton of landscaping tools. I even saw him hauling a load of dirt once. "They didn't leave you a bike?"

It's a valid question. "I think there's one in the garage." That just earns me a confused eyebrow lift. "I don't ride."

"Old war injury?" he jokes.

"I'm a city boy, remember? I never learned." Part of me is surprised I admitted it, the other is wondering why I should be sad about it.

"Oh, well I can teach you. The wagon on back makes it super easy."

Luckily he's soon hopping off and pushing his bike into the yard after I open the gate. "I appreciate it, thanks. Didn't intend to buy so much stuff."

"I totally get it. The market is almost as bad as a Target. Granted, I sort of have an excuse since I only go twice a year. Gotta stock up." He sucks in a breath and looks pensive. "So does this mean you haven't toured the island?"

"I run most mornings, I've seen a lot of it."

"Seen is not the same as experienced. Luckily for you, I know this island inside and out and am an awesome tour guide. You doing anything today? I can check the bike in the garage and get you riding in no time, or we could take the carriages." Why is 'no' my automatic first thought? I used to try anything and everything once, and sometimes twice. I've been skydiving; why is touring an island suddenly scary? "Too much? Sorry, wasn't sure after the other day. It's not a date, I just meant as... friends?"

"It's not that." Against all odds, it actually isn't. "Don't you have to work?"

"Nope. I do get days off, you know." The wind tussles his dirty blond hair and I want to run my fingers through it.

"Well, you did carry my watermelon so I guess you deserve to laugh at me falling off a bike." Because honestly, he's not wrong. I'm here another month and being able to ride down to get my coffee or groceries would make life much easier.  Besides, spending an actual chunk of time with him is probably the quickest way to knock him off the crush pedestal I've put him on.  May as well nip this in the bud.  He can't be quite as sweet as I've made him out to be.  For all I know, he could curse at old ladies on the sidewalks as he rides past.  Maybe he litters.  Or shoplifts.  Maybe he's dealing coke out of his trailer.

"You won't fall off, I promise. I'm a very good teacher." He offers to get the bicycle road ready while I put my groceries away and when I come back outside, he tells me to "Hop on" and this is when I realize that there is no way that I won't look like a fool. That's alright, let him laugh at me. Crush killing is the name of the game today, right?

"I don't hop" I mumble as I throw one leg over the death machine. The seat seems very high. The wheels are very thin. He explains how the brakes work and how to shift gears but promises we'll take it easy today. I do as I'm told and bend one knee up to put my foot on the pedal and listen intently as he explains to look ahead, not down. It's just like driving, he says. So easy kids do it. Uh huh. Sure. Not THIS kid.

He jogs beside me as we go back and forth up the pathway that leads to the garage. My bad, carriage house. It's the only path here that's smooth enough to really ride on and soon he tells me that it's time to hit the main road. "You've got it, really, and it's not busy. I'll stay right next to you."

No. I'm not doing this in public. "No. If I fall, I fall."

"I suggest catching yourself with one leg" he teases. "Hurts less than falling. And remember, the trailer will help you. Ooooh, we should weigh it down!"

"So this can be harder?"

"Well, yes and no. It will keep you from speeding too much but it'll also be less likely to tip. I know!" He climbs in. "Onward, Jeeves!"

No. I'm not risking him going over. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't. It'll be like sailing. I'll just lean the opposite way and keep us upright. But you've got this, really. Don't think too much, just pedal."

I am the king of overthinking. He doesn't realize what he's asking of me. "There's no way that will be comfortable."

"Oooh! Good thinking!!" He hops out and returns with a big pillow from one of the porch chairs. "Now we're talking!! We won't go too far though, don't want to wear you out or make your ass sore." I turn back, consider glaring but instead raise one eyebrow. "Said I was vers. Head away from town and I'll show you the swimming spot that only the locals know about."

Somehow, against all odds, I do as he says.