Mal also met someone during one of her hot yoga classes where psychotic sweat turned into swoony sweetness. It made moving out a lot easier because they were married last month with Wonton as the ringbearer. He swallowed the groom’s ring though. They eventually got it back…
This new apartment is full of new things and old things—my favorite thrifted chair and a new couch that we picked out together. Evan’s painting that he bought from a struggling street artist years ago that depicts a ballerina made from sharp angles holding onto a yellow balloon, and a framed photo of me sitting on Evan’s lap on a park bench in Central Park.
We’re making sure that the things that we love—that matter, are still part of the life we are building together, no matter how mismatched or messy it might feel at times.
Like the mess our apartment is right now with all these game pieces…
I’m trying to learnGesundheitagain. For maybe the fiftieth time, and I’m beginning to think that this crazy, pieced-together game is a secret language that is only meant for Lily and Evan, and I’m totally okay with that.
Evan is breaking a piece off a KitKat, leaning on the two back legs of the dining room chair, when he says, “Are you ready to give up?”
“It’s not giving up,” I argue. “I’m giving in to the fact that this game is impossible to learn.”
He eats his chocolate while grinning at me, and I can’t help but smile back.
Evan once wrote that I was the marshmallow to his Rice Krispies, but really, he’s the soft, gooey one. Once Evan let me in, there has been no shortage of sweetness.
He breaks me off a piece of his KitKat bar and hands it over. “What did your mom call about earlier?”
“Thanksgiving,” I reply. “They thought maybe we could fly down there for the week?”
Evan nods his head. “Sounds fun. Maybe at least someone in the Perry household can figure out how to play this game, but we’ll bring Lily along just in case I need real competition.”
I throw the rest of my cards, which are a mix of Candy Land and Uno, at him.
“Well, now, you’ll never win.” He laughs.
Forgiving my family was easier than I thought it would be, not because I wasn’t hurt, but because I had Evan to help me. Some things just need new wheels, and a lot of crying, hugging, and explanations that aren’t excuses, but at least that make a little more sense out of the mess.
I’m still learning to trust them, but Andrew is at least no longer in all the family pictures. My momma finally took all those down, and he’s not invited to Christmas anymore.
There’s a knock at the door.
“I got it!” I say, grateful for a reason to be interrupted from this ridiculous game.
I open the door and it’s the FedEx guy. His name tag reads Joey.
“Hi, Joey,” I say brightly.
“Package for…” he begins to say, but my eyes see the small brown box and I know exactly what it is.
“Joey! I think I love you!” I squeal as I throw my arms around the stranger. “Thank you!”
Evan joins me in the doorway. “Yes, she’s always like this.”
“It’s here!” I squeal, running back into our apartment holding the box high above my head like it’s a trophy and I just won a championship.
I’m frantically opening every drawer in the kitchen looking for the scissors when Evan appears from our office holding a pair. I misplace everything, but Evan seems to always know where every personality of mine puts things.
Happy me. Distracted me. Starving me. I-can’t-be-bothered-with-this-right-now me.
He knows the quirks of every version.
He smiles as I go to him for the scissors.
“Scissors, please,” I request, extending my hand.
He takes my hand and pulls me into him instead, brushing a kiss on my forehead. “I’m proud of you.”
