CHAPTER 7
It had only been a little over 24 hours, but I was dying to know whether or not I got the rental. I decided to go for run. Running was one of my favorite things to do, but only on natural surfaces. The pavement eats up your knees real quick. Luckily Jeremiah’s house was close to a big forest with plenty of trails. I put on my PT gear and headed out.
I like to start fast. A lesson I learned in middle school when I was a slow starter in cross country races and would ultimately find myself boxed in and trying to make up ground in a tiny lane for the last half a kilometer of our 5K runs. Placing 131st in my first race was unacceptable. A quicker start in race number two resulted in a 5th place finish and from then I was hooked. I wasn’t a jogger. I was a runner. I hit the ground running with the first step just as I pushed the timer button on my Timex.
These days running served me so much more than just to stay in shape. Keeping focused on maintaining speed takes my mind off of everything. Past and present. I like the way the body feels when it moves. How the shortness of breath is both a pain and a high. I never tried drugs, and have no desire too. Running was all the high I needed.
The forest was a great run. The fresh air, a few small inclines, and the beautiful views. I even saw a few deer about half way through. They took off in a sprint the moment I turned the corner and began in their direction.
The last 400 yards to Jeremiah’s back door are a dead out sprint. I touch the door signaling completion and hit the timer button on my Timex. Exactly 5k and 17:51. Exactly a minute off my best time, but a good first run.
I was still breathing hard, but wanted to knock out some push-ups and leg kicks in the grass. By the time I was done I was exhausted.
“Somebody’s up early today.” Jeremiah says as I walk into the kitchen.
“Needed to get the body moving. Feeling alive now.”
“Guess you won’t be needing a coffee then.”
“Not at all.”
“Is your phone in the living room? I think I heard a beep while you were out.”
“It is. Maybe it’s Rachel.”
I go to my phone and scroll to the messages. Nothing there. I swiped left and noticed the number one above my Gmail inbox notifications. I click on it.
Caleb,
Where to begin? First of all I’m sorry for what happened between us. It wasn’t right and I apologize. I should have been more careful before I jumped to conclusions. If you’re free later this week maybe we can grab a coffee. I’d really like that.
Grace
Your Photo Booth Funny Face Feline
P.S. I got your email from Emily
“You get the rental?” Jeremiah asks from back in the kitchen.
“Not about that.”
“Really? So you’re already filling up that new phone of yours with lady callers?”
“Not callers. Caller.”
“Somebody special?”
“Yes. Grace. She wants to meet for coffee.”
“Great. That turned around fast. I guess your visit helped to put things right.”
“Maybe. I guess we’ll see.”
“Are you going to accept?”
“Yes. I want to get this sorted out once and for all. And get that spark fired back up.”
“Great.”
“Only one problem.” I say.
“Which is?”
“I don’t know any coffee shops.”
“Easy. There is a bunch in town. Take her to Feisty Fido’s.”
I laugh. “Feisty Fido’s? What the heck is that all about?”
“Owner has a dog named Fido.”
“Not exactly original.”
“True, but this is no ordinary dog.”
“How so?”
“You don’t finish your drink and he blocks the exit when you go to leave.”
“You’ve got to be joking me. How would a dog even know you didn’t finish your coffee?”
“They serve all drinks in double walled glasses. He can see.”
“Yeah, but you’re at a table. He’s on the ground.”
“Everyone’s on the ground.”
“Why would everyone be on the ground?”
“Japanese place. The guy who runs it is an old codger from Japan. Kind of an ornery, grumpy guy, but that’s his charm. He’s revered in the community.”
“So let me get this straight. You have an angry Japanese guy running a coffee shop and everybody thinks he’s great?”
“It’s technically a tea house, but he also has great coffees. Some he grows with hydroponics in a green house behind the shop. He arrives at his shop at 4 a.m. every day. Cleans the entire sidewalk, picks up any trash in the area, washes the windows, and even puts out water and some food for the animals in the area. I would have never known if I hadn’t passed by on a few late night summer runs.”
“Sounds like a humble guy.”
“100%. And that’s why people love him.”
“Wait. You run at night?”
“Sometimes.”
“What about Jill? You leave her here?”
“No way. She comes with me?”
“Your twelve year old daughter goes on runs around 4 a.m.?”
“Sometimes when I can’t sleep or when I’m returning from a mission my body clock is off. She might hear me and come into the living room where I’ll be reading a book. We’ll talk and sometimes she suggests a run. To get the day started off right.”
“Wow. She really is a mover and shaker.”
“You can say that again. Her energy knows no limits.”
“Ok. So Feisty Fido’s it is. Just not at 4 a.m.”
We both laugh.
“Good choice. You can’t go wrong there, but just to let you know you can’t pick your drink.”
“This gets even weirder. What do you mean?”
“You just tell him what you want, coffee or tea or whatever, and he brings it to you.”
“But how does he know what type?”
“He looks at you for a few seconds. He says he can tell if you have any deficiencies and will base the selection on that. Or if not he picks something that makes sense based on the season or other factors.”
“So basically what he says goes?”
“Not basically. That’s how it is.”
“And if you don’t like it?”
“You don’t pay, but I think you’d never be welcomed back again.”
“But you’re not sure?”
“No, because I’ve never heard of anyone not paying. The guy is spot on with his choices. Sometimes when you’re drinking what he brings you you’re not 100% sure, but shortly after you finish your body feels really good.”
“Does he serve any food?”
“No. Just edamame.”
“Beans?”
“Come one man. Get some culture.”
“Says the corn fed Midwest boy living in the middle of the Heartland of America.”
“True, but this corn fed boy has been all over the world. And he paid attention!”
“Point taken.”
“And attention to other things than just girls.”
“OK, OK. I get it.”
I walk out the back door with my phone and hit reply on the message.
We can go to Feisty Fido’s tomorrow at 7 p.m.
Send.
That was easy. It did feel strange to write in civilian time though. Been a few years since I thought in anything other than 24 hour days.
Beep.
Wow. She already replied.
See you then.
My heartbeat picks up. It was confirmed. Our first real date, or at least a chance to set things straight. This was going to be interesting to say the least.