“I’m sorry, I just miss Dad so much.” It’s so stupid, we text every day and Facetime but it is not the same. I just want him to be here and be happy with all of his friends.
“I know, Blakely, I know that you love him so much, and seeing him in pain hurts you too.”
“It does.” I sniffle. “But this place made him so happy and it has done the same for me, I didn’t know he had all of you when he came here.”
He gives me the biggest, tightest hug I could ask for.
A cry of relief bursts out of me and we stay like this until I relax.
“Lorelai left this for you.” He brings out a photo from behind the counter. “She said she talked to you about it but forgot to give it to you.”
I stare at another photo of Mom and her friends. Their headshots make the necklace around her neck more visible. A bow and arrow. The horizontal arrow looks like my necklace, yet the silver bow looks starkly familiar like the one around Meadow’s neck.
Staring at the picture Milo gave me an hour ago, I try to dissect every crumb of information I have before the footsteps inside the room pull me out.
Meadow enters the bathroom. “I made you some tea, your throat is still sore from last night.” He wears that joker grin across his face.
Feeling giddy, I reply, “Thanks.”
He pulls off his ball cap, flicking it backward to gather his tousled hair back again. “What’s this?” He takes the stick I plunged into the mask bowl that sits on the bathroom counter and starts to apply it all over his face.
I giggle as I watch him mess it all up.
“Not like that,” I say softly as I take the stick away from him, curving my palm beneath his chin and directing him to face me. “You need to apply it evenly,” I slide the stick over his face and circle his eyes and mouth while I cover every inch.
“Look at you, expert.” He leans in for my comfort. “This is like getting a face massage, it’s nice.” He closes his eyes for a moment.
I brush off the hairs sticking to his face and tuck them inside the ball cap.
When he opens his eyes again, he peers into my eyes with an intensity that leaves me breathless before he removes afew wisps sticking to my face. With the hair tie on his wrist, he lifts my hair into a ponytail and ties it for me.
I love those little gestures that come so naturally to him.
Pulling away, “There you go,” I put the stick back into the bowl.
“Thanks.” He directs his legs to face the mirror, narrowing his eyes at himself. “We both look like a Grinch now.” We stare into the mirror and slowly lock eyes with each other as our lips twist and stretch higher at the corners till we burst out with laughter. We can’t stop as we stare at the green mask covering every inch of our faces.
I sniff and a disgusting whiff travels in the air, “What is that smell?”
“Chaos!”
Chaos looks atmewith an innocent face but I swear there’s a green cloud around her that fucking stinks.
We rush to get to the opened window and stick our heads out, feeling the night breeze, and sniffing gasoline into our lungs. “Smells like freedom,” we both say in unison before we pivot our heads toward each other and smile.
He doesn’t know it but he gets under my skin and leaves pieces of himself all over me.
He leans in to kiss me and I block him by putting my finger over his lips. “You can’t,” I remind him so he kisses my finger instead.
When I study his features tenderness casts them yet his eyes pour out so many emotions, shifting theenergy around him.
“Are you undressing that bike over there?” I nod to the one in front of the window. “I know she’s a beauty but that’s kind of rude.”
He laughs almost silently. “On my worst days, Michael was the one who lifted my spirit.” He shares, gazing outside.
“Is this a bad day?”
“No, just memories.”
