“I never thought of it that way. I always saw them as a more scenic route to cross a block.” She smiles. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Anything else nice you want to mention?”
She laughs. “I’m too nervous to think of other adjectives.”
“Nervous? You seem like you’re in a good mood.”
“Do I? I guess I am. I don’t mean nervous in a bad way.” She cups both hands around her drink. “Coffee just makes me happy.”
I arch an eyebrow. She’s been drinking coffee since the moment I met her. “Are you sure there’s no other reason for your cheerfulness?”
She suppresses a smile. “No. Yes. I mean, it’s just the drink.”
“I was glad to hear from you.” I’d been home editing photos, wondering when or if she’d tell me whether she’d seen the post, the precise second Outlook had pinged with new mail. “Did you see the photo?”
Her breath fogs between us. “Yes.”
“And? Do you want me to take it down?”
“No.”
I smooth my hair back. I was worried. The photos are raw. I’ve grown attached to them, and I want to post the others, but only if she’s comfortable. “So it’s not as scary as you thought?”
“It’s . . . weird. And exciting. Weirdly exciting.”
“I’ve gotten more followers over the last day than I would in a month.”
“Really?” she asks excitedly. “It must be the time of year.”
“It must be you,” I say.
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” I get out my phone. “I edited the other two photos just in case you wanted to see them first.”
She leans into me, peering over my shoulder, nearly in my lap, smelling like a spicy fall day. Suddenly, I can’t remember where the photo app is on my phone. I swipe between screens while she waits.Fuck. She’ll think I’ve lost it; I can’t even navigate my own phone.
“There it is.” She taps my screen and my camera roll pops up.
“I have captions picked out too,” I say. “If you agree.”
“I’m just not used to this. Seeing myself so . . .” She studies the screen a few seconds. “I used to be fat.”
I freeze, stunned by her bluntness. “I-I’m sorry?”
“Not obese or anything. But I just lost thirty pounds. I never considered myself sexy.”
I stay frozen. I don’t even blink. I was married long enough to know I’m in dangerous territory. Both speaking up and staying silent could be deadly decisions. I swallow. Twice.
“You’re turned off, right?” she asks. “It’s okay if you are. I don’t plan on gaining it back.”
“I’mnotturned off,” I say. Wait.Shit. I walked right into that one. “I’m not turned on, either, I mean, that’s not—fuck. Never mind.”
She laughs. “Are you okay?”
I take a breath and start over. “You look great. You’re not planning on losing more, though, are you?”
“No. I actually wasn’t trying to lose it at first. It just started to come off.”
