At every family baptism (on the cheek, usually).
At her grandma’s funeral (on the temple).
In movie theaters, during the movie, if he noticed she was looking at him.
At restaurants, waiting for their table. (With his arm around her, the kiss landing wherever was easiest—her shoulder, the back of her hand, the top of her head.)
In the kitchen, whenever he moved past her.
In bed, before he rolled over and fell asleep.
In bed, before she got up, before he rolled over and fell back to sleep.
On the palm, during sex.
On her chin, when she was eating something messy.
On her neck, if he wanted to distract her.
Always, without a thought, in front of her family or his friends.
On his sister’s rollaway when they visited her in Des Moines.
On the sidelines, when Cherry came to his rec-league softball games.
On the nose, when she pouted.
On her belly, when she had cramps.
On her belly, when they were having sex.
On her belly, when he wanted to have sex.
On her belly, if they were in bed, and she was half asleep, and he was wide awake.
On her belly, whenever she was taller than him.
Inside her knees, inside her thighs, on the back of her thighs, under her arms, under her breasts, on the soles of her feet—whenever he felt like it, for no reason at all.
On the forehead, when he thought she was being cute.
On the knuckles, when he thought she needed encouragement.
Full on the mouth once, in the Western Alliance lobby, the day that he’d quit.
Full on the mouth most of the time. Most places. Most days. Like it was nothing. Like it was breathing. Like he got a little hit of something from it. Like Cherry’s mouth was for kissing the way a dog’s ears were for scratching or buttons were for pushing.
He didn’t seem to everthinkabout kissing her, or even realize he was doing it. Sometimes he did it in the middle of a sentence. Sometimes he did it in his sleep.
That’s who Cherry had been, in Tom’s life and in the world, for years and years—someone who had always recently been kissed. Someone who was about to be kissed. Someone who walked around with her chin slightly raised and lips slightly parted—ready for it.
Chapter 65
“Well, look who’s here. I wasn’t expecting to see you anytime soon.”
Tom’s dad was in the driveway, working on his truck. He was wearing a coat and holding a travel mug. And smiling at Cherry like she was about to say something funny.
“Hey, there,” Cherry said, walking up the drive.
