Being with her, sometimes,
feels transcendental.
Say yes, say yes, say yes!
“Can I think about it?”
Her eyes narrow;
I have given her invitation
the same response she gave mine.
“Of course,” she says, borrowing my words.
“Call me later to let me know what you decide.”
elise
I don’t really think he’ll come to Audrey’s, and I feel guilty for heaving the pressure of my invitation on his shoulders.
Why can’t I leave well enough alone?
Even when the doorbell rings thirty minutes after Aud leaves for Camembert, I don’treallythink it’ll be him. My mom, maybe, or the UPS man, or some random kid selling candy bars. But when I look through the peephole set in the front door, there’s Mati, wearing jeans and a butter-yellow T-shirt, a hoodie slung over his arm. His hair’s grown since we met and it’s everywhere, sticking up in thick black tufts. He looks nervous.
Janie runs up and grabs the hem of my shirt. “Who is it, Auntie?”
I crouch next to her. “My friend. Do you mind if he hangs out with us?”
Janie’s blue eyes gleam. “I don’t mind. Open the door!”
I do. Mati smiles; he’s unquestionably happy to see me, and the feeling’s mutual. Instinct says,Throw your arms around him. Logic says,Let him lead.
He’s got a hand tucked behind his back, but he reaches out with the other. I give him mine and he squeezes my palm. My heart performs a joyful dip, and all is right in the world.
“You must be Janie,” he says, stooping to talk to my niece.
I rest my palm on top of her head. “Can you say hi to Mati?”
She smiles her dimpled smile and parrots, “Hi, Mati.”
He brings his arm out from behind his back, revealing a puffy white dandelion, ripe for blowing. “I heard you like to make wishes.”
Her face lights up. “I do! Can I make a wish now?”
“You should probably come outside. New flowers won’t grow if these seeds land on the floor of your cottage. And if the flowers don’t grow—”
“My wishes won’t come true!”
He grins. “That’s right.”
I watch from the doorway as she follows him onto the lawn. He kneels in the grass so she can take the dandelion from him. She holds it carefully, blocking it from the breeze with her little hand. “I’ll wish for cookies,” she says. “That’s what my daddy wished for when he was little like me.”
Mati opens his mouth, blinks, then wordlessly closes it. I have to look away because I’m biting hard into my lip, a vain attempt to keep tears from falling.
Oh, Janie.
She closes her eyes and gives the dandelion a mighty blow. Her lids spring open again and she watches the seeds scatter with unadulterated delight. “Thank you for my wish,” she says to Mati. “You should come inside now. Auntie is making noodles.”
