He snorts. “Do you think we imprinted on each other?”
“Like ducklings?” I think about it. “Maybe.”
“It’s been a long time, but we could get to know each other again,” he says, not moving his eyes from the radiator. A sliver of lamplight shines on his hair, which has always been a true blue-black compared to my own chestnut brown. “If you want.”
I don’t hesitate. “I’d like that.”
When he meets my gaze, I can’t help but smile. It’s been a long time since I felt anything like home, but a bit of it comes back to me now.
9
Hua Ruoxuan
Five Dynasties. Netted riches from troubled political waters and began to build the family’s wealth.
Heart note //Strengthen confidence
Base note //Patchouli
“At least March came in like a lion, so it’ll be out like a lamb,” Ana assures me as she flips the page on her Humane Society calendar. “Oh, look, this month is hamsters.”
She grabs the pen she uses to mark in special events and glances at me. “When’s your birthday, by the way?”
“March,” I say.
“So it’s coming?” She’s all fluffy hair and black overalls, cinched tight with a wide elastic belt and rolled up to the knees to show glitter socks.
“It’s today.”
She freezes, horror writing over her features. “I missed-slash-am currently missing your birthday?”
“Did you say the slash out loud in that sentence?”
“How else would you verbally indicate it?” She frowns. “Also, don’t change the topic.”
“It’s not a big deal to me.” A good coping mechanism for years of uncelebrated birthdays is to convince yourself you don’t care.
“That’s cool.” She writes my name in the correct calendar square with a fun bubble script and a few hearts. “To each their own, and all that. How old are you? How do I not know this stuff?”
“There’s no questionnaire,” I say. “I’m thirty-three.”
“Me too! Fun fact, that’s the same age Jesus was when he was crucified.”
I stare at her. “How do you know that?”
“Thirteen years of Catholic school, and my mother pointed it out in order to ask me what I’ve done with my life compared to Christ. She didn’t take it well when I told her he didn’t have kids, either, and the Bible doesn’t mention our Blessed Virgin getting on his case about it.” She checks the time and flips on the white neon OPEN sign before smiling at me. “Happy birthday, Lucy.”
When was the last time someone said the words to my face? To my astonishment, tears prick my eyes. Luckily, Ana turns to glance out the window, so I can get myself under control. “Oh, gross.”
“What?” I should have known it would be the teenagers, whom Ana has named Elvis and Priscilla. This time they’re leaning with their foreheads together like one of them is about to go off to war. “Shouldn’t they be in school?”
“I love those crazy kids,” Ana says.
“You do?”
“No, but I read a thing about loving-kindness meditation, so I’m trying to reframe my loathing at having seen both their tongues as having hope in young love.”
I have no such desire, so I go to hang up my jacket in the back but stop on the threshold. It looks much different than it did yesterday. “What’s this?”
