Page 46 of The Incredible Ordinary

“Cold?” I ask.

“I’m like those birds that migrate south for the winter. Once the temperature drops below fifty, I escape.”

“I like seasons. Winter’s the best.”

He takes a huge, exaggerated step back.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m afraid whatever lunacy that is might be contagious.”

“I like the cold.”

“You shouldn’t,” he says in a voice so serious it borders on grim.

“I like rain, too.”

He rubs his fingertips over his forehead and sighs. “So many terrible takes.”

I chuckle, and the smile doesn’t leave my face the whole time I’m looking at him. We hover on the sidewalk. There are cars and people all around us. A burst of wind makes the mix of green and yellowish leaves on the young maple trees by the street rustle.

“I’ll see you?” I say.

“You will.” He grins at me.

There’s a small thrum in my chest. It feels so foreign that it takes me a moment to identify it.

Excitement.

I live a simple life. I raise my son, and I do my best to give him a good life and make sure he grows into a good man. I go to work.

I’ve settled into a stable routine.

I’m not unhappy.

Far from it.

I’m an ordinary guy who lives an ordinary life.

But this past week, it’s started to feel like I’m discovering new territory. Like finding a long-forgotten room in a well-loved home.

Hey, look here. We completely forgot this was here.

And it’s exciting.

“Great,” I say. “See you, then.”

“See you.”

I nod, turn, and start to walk. I don’t know what makes me do it, but just before I turn the corner, I glance over my shoulder, and there’s Milán, also glancing over his shoulder at me.

I can see him chuckle, and he gives a short wave.

I smile back.

Wave back.

Turn back around and roll my eyes at myself.