When I’m ready to go, Abbi does my vitals and Mom clears me to leave. Luke stands in the corner of the kitchen and watches the whole process with hyperfocus, learning the steps.
“You’re sure you’re feeling okay?” Abbi asks quietly once Mom is out of earshot.
“Yeah. Promise. Do something for yourself today too, okay?”
Abbi hugs me in response, and I hug her tight, squeezing her until her back pops. She pulls away and laughs, then looks between Luke and me. She leans in to whisper in my ear.
“Just becareful. Maybe hold off on any…cardio…until you talk to Dr.Lee about whether it’s safe.”
“Abbi.” I blush. I glance over at Dad, but he’s reading something on his phone, oblivious.
Abbi rolls her eyes, winks. “Fine. Have fun.”
“Not too much,” I promise.
*
In Provincetown, Luke insists on dropping me off in the center of town before he finds a spot to park. I wander through the bookstore while I wait for him, saying hi to the dog in residence and listening to his owner tell a visiting couple his rescue story. I buy Abbi a book on the history of alternative energy on the Cape as a thank-you, then go meet Luke on the corner. He’s holding a bag from the Portuguese bakery. I snap a photo of him waiting for me and text it to Maddy.
Sera
hot boy + hot =
should we bring you back some?
Maddy
yes please! Are you wearing THE DRESS?!
I laugh and take a selfie. I’m wearing a T-shirt and shorts and one of Luke’s baseball caps.
Maddy
I demand a date worthy of THE DRESS, and DETAILS!
Sera
I demand unlimited free fries and Sienna details in return!
Maddy
I’ll consider it. Meet up tomorrow? Just us?
I send her a thumbs-up and sidle up to Luke.
“Are those for me?”
“Save me a bite,” he teases, “but yes. It was a long drive.”
We find a bench on the main drag to sit and eat. When we’re done, we escape the sun by drifting from shop to shop. As we walk past a little park, we step apart to let a gaggle of brunch-going drag queens pass by.
“I love your hat!” I shout to the queen at the end, who’s wearing a giant crocheted shell perched atop her bright red wig.
“Thanks, doll, I love your arm candy!” She gestures to Luke, and he blushes.
The gallery I’m looking for is pretty far up Commercial Street, and Luke holds the door open for me as we step out of the sun into the well-lit, air-conditioned space.
The gallery is run by a local artist, and their current show features work from young up-and-coming artists all over Cape Cod. We wander through for a bit until I find the corner where the artist I’m looking for has their work hanging. The three paintings hanging here are all portraits of people caught in the wind, their hair wild, one guy bald but clearly feeling the wind on his wrinkled skin. The detail is so impressive. I take a selfie and post it to Instagram, tagging the artist and sending them a note.
