She turns to the sound of my voice.
She walks toward me,
her expression impossible to decipher.
She stops before I can reach for her and,
for an immeasurable moment
we stand,
staring into each other’s eyes.
“How’s your baba?” she asks.
“Healthy. He has been cleared to go.”
She blinks, happy for Baba, sad forus.
Her feelings are mine, in duplicate.
“Tell him I’m glad for him,” she says.
She paints a smile with careful strokes,
her eyes glittering with tears.
“So, tomorrow…?”
“Tomorrow I fly home.”
She takes a step toward me, timid,
as if she is worried I will turn her away.
When I open my arms,
her hesitancy vanishes.
She walks into them,
into me,
and for the first time since we argued…
I breathe.
elise
Audrey calls a while after I get home. She tells me she and Janie are coming over, then hangs up quickly, like I might tell her to stay home if given the chance.
I sprawl out on my bed to wait.
Today at the beach… All afternoons should be so lovely. Mati and I took a long walk, indulged in a kiss that’s forever etched in my memory, and said our goodbyes. He was sensible, and I was realistic. We were more composed than I thought us capable. Tears would have tarnished the good we shared—that’s what I tell myself every time sadness threatens to drown me.
My door swings open, and Audrey and Janie barrel in. Janie’s dragging bags from the local home-improvement store—they’re nearly twice her size—and Aud’s lugging gallons of paint.
“What’s all this?” I ask, sitting up.
