Slow is relative.
My life before this was painfully slow, and yet it all blurred together in a gray, cold mass of shouting, lingering fried-fish odors, and huddling in my room, arms wrapped around myself, wondering if I would ever experience a hug. Someone’s love,reallove. I didn’t even let myself finish those dangerous thoughts until I was enrolled in my online courses.
And then this week...
My life is on fast forward, but every minute drips slowly like the syrup Artie puts on my frozen waffles, thick, sweet, and lingering. I can remember every little detail.
Especially that kiss.
A cold wind blows, and snaps me out of my reverie. It’s nothing like Alaska’s icy gales, but I still worry that Laurel shouldn’t be out for too long, even all bundled up, even with her krampus genetics.
“Let’s go home and have a bath and stories? Then we’ll make music on your new xylophone. Guess what? We’re going out to dinner. Yes. Immy’s going to get all dressed up, and so are you.”
Laurel lets out a volley of shrieks and coos that would melt a glacier’s heart. She’s so adorable.
And I like my nickname. Immy. Kinda sounds like Mommy, I think in my heart of hearts, a place where fantasies are allowed to live.
“OH, WOW.” I GASP WHENI see Imogene come down the stairs at seven.
I already have Laurel in a pretty romper suit with cozy footies covering her little hooves. She’s adorable.
“Do you like it?” Imogene asks, still slowly gliding towards me.
Clinging dark green velvet. Faux white fur trim at the hem. White boots that hug her calves and draw my attention to the fact that her legs are incredible.
All of her body is incredible, but it’s her shy smile mixed with sparkling, hopeful eyes that make me feel like a shabby scruff, unworthy of having her in my life, let alone as my date. “You look fantastic,” I whisper, plucking at my one good shirt. I made an effort. Shaved. Wet my hair and smoothed the overgrown bangsback. Made sure I was wearing my best clothes, even though I’m worried about spilling on my only interview shirt.
“Thank you. Chloe said these are vintage. They’d be worth more if they weren’t worn out in some places.”
“You’d never know there was anything wrong with them. They look stunning on you. Shall we?” I offer my arm, and Imogene picks up her purse, then frowns and puts it down. “What’s wrong?” I steel myself to hear that she’s changed her mind.
“This purse was my mother’s. I don’t remember her at all, but if the stories Sarah told me are true, she didn’t want me. Didn’t love me. When I found this, I thought it was so precious, a connection to her. B-but I don’t think I want to carry it with me tonight. Tonight is a fresh start. With only good things,” she says, putting it down gently. “I might keep it. I might throw it out.”
“You know, you keep talking about how cool Chloe’s Curiosities is, but I’ve never been there. Next payday, let’s go buy you a purse. Or, we can go to the mall.”
“Ooh. A mall.” Imogene bites her lip, her smile crooked and excited.
My heart tumbles and seesaws in my chest. “I made reservations,” I say.
Immy takes my arm, and we leave together, Laurel starting to drift off in her carrier.
DINNER IS DELICIOUS, but the company is even better. While Laurel sleeps, we talk in low voices about work, and the library, the book club, and how smart Laurel is, and how fast she’s growing, about how it’s so adorable how her tiny tail tip flips back and forth when she’s falling asleep, if we think she’s beenextra fussy, and could she be teething already? My hand rests on the white tablecloth next to the round glass candleholder. Imogene lets her hand rest next to mine. Then under mine.
“Thank you for letting me be a total dad nerd,” I laugh, head dipping to study my manicotti. “No one else would get how excited I am about her.”
“I’m just as excited. I feel like she’s mine, too. Is that okay to say?”
Anyone else? No. Her? I don’t even hesitate. “It’s perfect. I hope you always feel that way.”
“I will.” Imogene laces her fingers through mine and squeezes.
Holy crap, she’s strong.
Why did my mind just picture her in a superhero costume and my body scream into a full-on raging Babe Alert? I drink water like I’ve been crossing a desert.
Imogene’s thumb strokes over the back of my hand in an absentminded circle. “You know how you said you love Laurel so much, and you’re willing to sacrifice for her, not because you had great parents, but because you didn’t?”
I nod, wondering when I said that—or rather, which time. I never talked much as a kid, and I was practically nonverbal as the gawky foster kid in high school who could never afford the fancy clothes or cool bookbag, was never invited to parties, never on any sports teams. But with Imogene, I talk all the time. She’s become more than just a roommate or someone who watches my baby. She’s like my best friend. She looks up to me for helping her and helping Laurel, but I look up to her because she’s incredibly strong, resilient, and still so caring despite everything she’s been through. “I know I’ve talked your ear off about that.”
