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When he left, I hit my home gym. I made Ro workout with me, staying close to take notes if I thought of anything.
“You know you can get voice to text software for this, right?” she asked. “You don’t need an actual extra human here to jot things down for you.”
I waved off that bit of sass. “Don’t mess with my process. Your workout gear is the most hideous clothing I’ve ever seen, by the way.
She was on the bike beside my treadmill, plodding along sedately while I busted my ass.
She glanced down at herself. Her oversized gray sweatshirt and sweatpants made her look like she’d gained fifty pounds instantly. Even her shoes were hideous, dingy white and clunking. “I got a really good deal on them. Five dollars for everything I’m wearing, can you believe it? I’m a sucker for a bargain.”
I cringed. I couldn’t. I honestly couldn’t believe that she thought that atrocious ensemble was worth five dollars. “Oh my God,” I burst out. “Well, stop it. I’ll give you a clothing allowance if you’ll just burn everything you own in a fire.”
She laughed.
It was a very nice laugh, rich and bright. Something in my chest grew warm at the sound.
“I don’t mind my clothes,” she finally answered, “but I do mind being wasteful, so no thank you.”
I was onto weights when my workout brainstorming finally bore fruit.
“Sanguine,” I told Ro.
“Sanguine?” she repeated back.
“Yeah. Just write down that word. It will trigger the rest of the idea I just had.”
“Are you sure?” she asked me. “Want to give me a few more details?”
“Nope. Sanguine.”
“You don’t want me to write anything except for the word sanguine?”
“Trust me,” I said with complete confidence.
It was a few hours later, and I was shooting hoops in my indoor basketball court when I asked Ro to read my brainstorming notes back to me.
“You only had one,” she told me.
“Okay. Read it.”
“Sanguine.”
“Sanguine?” I stopped dribbling the ball. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
Her reply was expressionless and absolutely perfect. “I guess you were pretty sanguine about only having me jot down this one word note.”
“Smartass,” I muttered, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
It was a few hours later, and I was swimming laps while she watched me, her hands on her hips.
“You know,” she laid into me when I came up for air, “the first thing you said to me today was that you weren’t supposed to be doing anything but writing, and everything we’ve done today has had nothing to do with writing.”
“That’s not true. I brainstormed with Dair, and again when we worked out.”
“That’s right. I forgot about sanguine. I’m pretty sure we’ve reached the part of the day where you’ve procrastinated enough that I’m supposed to be putting you in check, right? With threats and such?”
I was intrigued. I tilted my head back to look at her straight on. “Yeah, probably. Whatcha got?
“If you don’t get five hundred words written in the next half hour, I’m going to make you watch an entire episode of Fuller House.”
