Alex
Yes, now LEAVE ME TO MY EMOTIONAL DEVASTATION
Alex
Mia told me at bedtime tonight, I “moosh” Thea.
Took me a minute, but I figured out she was saying, “miss”
Thea
well, now I’m crying
WHO’S THE EMOTIONAL SABOTEUR NOW
Alex
Um Mia?
Thea
sure, blame the kid.
or you could admit that this is payback for the tearjerker thriller
Alex
you DO deserve payback for putting me through that book.
but it was just an honest update
Thea
tell Mia I moosh her back?
Alex
Will do
Thea
And Alex, honest update,
I moosh you, too
Alex
And I moosh you, Ted.
Lots.
By the time we’re trudging through November, life isn’t any slower, but there’s still a faint glow from our gentle summer, warm in my heart, as if what Alex and I have figured out, the ways we’ve managed to connect through the busy autumn, are like two hands cupped around that flame, keeping it alive.
For the first time in six weeks, I’m sitting in Alex’s kitchen. Instead of summer sunshine, we’re lit by dim recessed lighting as we sit down to play after-dinner cards. Alex’s threadbare T-shirt has been swapped out for a faded, butter-soft hoodie, one of its drawstrings clenched between his teeth. The living room fireplace pops and hisses as it burns, echoing summertime’swoodsmoke-grill scent, wisps of charred hickory curling through the air.
I stare at Alex, whose hair is longer, indecisive curl-waves falling onto his forehead, around his ears, brushing the top of his hoodie. His five-o’clock shadow scruff has grown into a beard. He looks different. But he feels the same. Comfort. Playfulness. Warmth.
His socked feet drag along mine beneath the table, no steady pattern or rhythm to their movement, just touching. Touching to touch. I don’t even think he knows he’s doing it.
