“I thought I’d go cycling this morning to release some of this pent-up energy.”
Good thing he kept his head in the newspaper. My lips tightly held together to keep from laughing. Jake apparently hadn’t taken the news as well as I thought he had.
“You want to ride with me?” As much as I didn’t want to, I thought it would be better for the relationship if I went with him.
“I don’t have any clothes. Plus, where are we getting bikes at this hour?”
“All the bikes are downstairs in storage and Jane has plenty of clothes for you to borrow. She used to cycle in undergrad.” He walked into Jane’s room and blinded her by turning on the light. “Jane, where do you keep your cycling clothes?”
Extremely annoyed, she yelled at her brother. “What is your problem? It’s still dark out. Why do you need my cycling clothes?”
“Emi and I are going out for a ride.”
“Jake…we got to bed a few hours ago. Leave Emily alone. She and I are both tired.”
“Just answer my question.”
Jake kept the light on till he found what he was looking for and handed me clothes and shoes to change into. Not having done this since grammar school, I worried about the challenge of riding a bike in this hilly city. Plus, the professional gear looked ridiculous on me.
“Where are we going?”
“Let’s go get breakfast. There’s nothing to eat here,” he answered, handing me Jane’s bike and helmet. “You do know how to ride a bike?”
“Yes, but I’m no professional. It’s been awhile since I’ve been on one of these.” Hesitation marred my face.
“You’ll be fine. What do you want to eat?”
“How about a greasy donut or an almond croissant and a latte? Even after two huge meals yesterday, I’m starving.”
“I know just the place. Let’s go.” He led me out of the Embarcadero and headed south.
“Wait! You’re not thinking of riding all the way into the Mission District, are you?” I asked warily.
“Yup. You know this town better than I thought.”
“Yeah, I’ve been around the block a few times in this city.”
“Apparently you don’t go all the way around the block in any city,” he answered sarcastically and rode away.
I cracked up laughing. “Wait for me…”
The ride to breakfast wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. The donut shop smelled heavenly. With so many choices, I asked Jake to buy one of every donut and took a bite of every flavor. I couldn’t get enough of the banana de leche and lemon pistachio. Jake favored the maple-glazed bacon apple. I wasn’t crazy about the sweet and savory combo of his choice. We took the leftovers for Jane and went to our next destination.
My favorite bakery in the Mission District was located many, many blocks from the donut shop. Once here, there were too many choices, so little room in the stomach—as this was always my dilemma.
“Do I need to buy one of everything here too?” he asked in a sour tone. He was still sore about last night.
“Jake…are you going to be upset with me every time we’re in an overnight situation?”
“If I say yes, will you do something about it?”
“Yup, I will.”
“You will?” Jake’s eyes twinkled again. I so didn’t want to crush this glow.
“I’m going to have to make sure we are not in this situation ever again. You’ll have to apologize to your parents for me and tell them I can’t go to Hawaii with you.”
If Jake was sore earlier, he was completely pouting now. “Emily!” He dragged my name in frustration.
I put both my hands on his cheeks and kissed his puckered lips. “Will you be OK with Hawaii or should I stay home?” Jake knew he’d lost this round.
He tried to shake my hands loose but instead, I grabbed him and kissed him longingly in front of a long line of strangers. This did the trick. His dimpled smile reappeared. “Jane was wrong about you,” I told him. “I find you adorable when you’re mad.” I kissed him one more time.
A second breakfast of almond croissants, bread pudding, an utterly tantalizing open-faced sandwich with béchamel, gruyere, ham, and grilled asparagus, and a last bite of coconut crème tart gave both of us the surge of energy needed for the excruciating ride back home. Jake mapped out a long route from the bakery to Dolores Park, up to the War Memorial Opera House, then back to the apartment. I guess I should have been thankful that he didn’t choose to take me up and down Lombard “Crooked” Street. While my boyfriend rode with vigor, my sloshy stomach struggled the last mile home. A few times, the contents of my stomach slithered its way up, but in the end, they decided to stay put. Finally back at home, we put our bikes away and walked across the street to the Ferry building. To my chagrin, the farmers’ market didn’t open on Sundays, so I followed Jake into the myriad of shops instead.
Jake started at a cook shop and purchased an all-inclusive picnic basket.