“Yep! Mia actually took that picture.”
His eyebrows raise. “She didn’t want to be in it?”
“Well, it was just easier to have Mia take pictures.” Averting my eyes, I add, “It was, um, only Ben and Mia there.”
He gently sets the frame down. “Only Ben and Mia came to your graduation?”
“Yeah. I mean, obviously I didn’t have parents there. And Mae was too old to be on her feet walking across campus the entire day.” My voice comes out quieter than normal.
Danny’s whole posture stiffens. “I wish I was?—”
Coming up behind him, I touch his shoulder. “We can’t go back and change it.”
Nodding, he turns around and sits on the rose-colored quilt on top of my queen bed.
The corners of his lips twitch as he touches the fabric. “Pink flowers, pink scrubs, pink bedspread.”
I join him, sitting on the corner of the bed frame. “I’m a pink girl. All girls decide what their color is at age five, Danny, and that color follows us around our entire lives.”
“A strawberry girl, through and through,” he says softly, tucking a curl behind my ear.
I clear my throat. “Well, um, shall we check out my fully functional, but robotless kitchen?”
Danny laughs, and we head back into the main living area together.
“This is the kitchen.” My kitchen is tiny and U-shaped, like every other apartment kitchen in the Midwest, with laminate countertops and a dated, white refrigerator that hasn’t been updated in years. I’m pretty sure the serial number is in Roman Numerals.
“I know a whole family ofmafiososwouldn’t fit here.” I gesture to my small circular wooden table. “But Mae actually bought it for me. You can see a tiny bee she had custom-carved into each leg.” Made with warm-toned reclaimed oak, darker knots create thick streaks throughout the wood grain, adding interest and personality.
Danny reaches out and runs his fingers across the table before crouching down and carefully touching one of the carved bees, gently pressing his fingers into the grooves.
“It’s beautiful,” he admires.
“Yeah. It’s probably my favorite thing in this place.”
We’re quiet for a moment while Danny takes his time appreciating the craftsmanship. Once he’s completed his inspection, we each take a seat in one of the four matching oak chairs. In the center of the table sits a pair of salt and pepper shakers in the shape of a dog and a cat and a large bowl of avocados.
Danny raises his eyebrows and gestures toward the bowl. “Big avocado girl now, huh?”
I swivel my head toward him. “That’swhat you’re focusing on after this whole tour?”
“You know, I don’t think anyone really likes avocados.” He scratches the stubble on his chin.
“I like avocados.”
He shakes his head. “No, you just like the flavors that go on avocados.”
“That’s not true!”
Leaning forward in his seat, Danny places his elbows on the table. “Itistrue. If you put garlic, salt, and lemon juice on your face cream, you’d eat that, too.”
My jaw drops slightly. “Well, thisisAmerica. You’re entitled to all the wrong opinions you want, I guess.”
“It’s like how no one likes plain chicken,” he continues. “They’re just keto or kidding themselves.”
I blush and look away.
Danny narrows his eyes, immediately clocking my embarrassment. “Uh oh. What’s that look for?”
