Opening the framed picture of music producer Finesse, I find a similar card with a handwritten memory.
Words aren’t needed between Dani and me. We both know all these pictures are coming down. One by one, we remove each memory from its cage, as if we can jump inside them like the chalk paintings fromMary Poppins.
We go until there’s only two photos left: mine and hers.
“You read mine. I’ll read yours?” Dani proposes.
Without another word, we swap.
I motion for her to go first and she clears her throat. “Micah had been getting pretty big commissions for a while, but after he booked the Ravens one, he knew he was never going to go broke again. I asked him what he was going to do with his check, and I’ll never forget the look of pure elation on his face when he said he was going to buy his mom’s daycare center. I think that’s the proudest I’ve ever been of him.”
I can’t speak. The words are frozen to the back of my throat. I was expecting a funny recollection or even something kind about my work. I’m blown away and honored that her favorite memory of me was how she viewed me as a son and a man.
Placing my hand on my chest, I look up to the ceiling. “Thank you,” I croak, hoping that wherever Tanya is, she’s listening. My voice comes out hoarse, but I push through, powered by Dani’s reassuring smile. “My turn then?”
She nods.
“Okay, Dani smelled like cheese fries and bad manners.”
“It doesn’t fucking say that—”
She reaches to snatch the card from me, but I hold it high above her head. Standing on her toes brings our lips dangerously close. I can smell the strawberry Tic Tacs she ate in the car on her tongue.
I expect her to back down from the chemistry that has always brewed between us, but to my delight, she holds strong. Her eyes flutter to my lips briefly before she locks her gaze with mine, a silent challenge laid before me.
Not this time, Dani.
Not until you’re truly ready.
I lean forward. “I’m fuckin’ with you.” I laugh, and she slaps my arm. “It says, ‘When Dani launched Promesa, we had a celebratory drink at my house. I have never been that drunk in my life. It was the first time I’d ever felt my age.’”
Dani giggles quietly, the sound somehow both innocent and sinister.
“She sang all the parts of ‘Ladies’ Night’ by herself without taking a breath, and I believe I danced on my table. It was the happiest I’d seen her in a long time. I don’t think she remembers saying this to me, but she said, ‘It’s so nice to wake up every morning and actually be happy about it.’ That always stays with me.”
Quiet falls over the room.
She didn’t want to live anymore.I mean, it doesn’t explicitly say she wanted to kill herself, but the message is clear. There was a time when she would’ve gladly accepted death. I hate that.
Dani’s hands tremble by her sides. She reaches up and slips the card from my fingers.
I track the barrage of emotions that fall over her with every reread. “Let me just say this and then we can move on like I know you want to.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Her eyes shoot up to mine, piercing my chest. “Me too.”
Good. Until my dying day, I’ll always make sure that’s the case. That, I can promise.
Something catches Dani’s attention, and she gently moves me from her path. She bends over the linked hands statue on Tanya’s desk and pulls a piece of paper from one of the palms. Unfolding it, she reads the words and snorts.
“Did you see the new exhibition they have running right now?”
“Uh, no?” I respond.
She holds the paper out to me. It’s another flyer for the BMA, but this one is advertising their new installation:Art Imitates Life.
