“I know, right?”
We both came back down to earth—reality—and slowed to rocking back and forth. Gabriella abandoned her swing long enough to open her backpack and pour more wine for us. Somehow, we managed to swing and keep our wine cups from tilting.
“So what happened with Lorenzo?”
She countered, “What happened with Celestia?”
“I asked first.”
She threw her head back. “Ugh! Ratchet. He is ratchet.”
“‘Ratchet’? Is that the same as trifling?”
“Close.” She pulled her head straight again. “I never thought he was the one. Never thought we’d get married or anything. But I didn’t know he could be such a… Ooh! I don’t want to cuss around you, Ms. Joyce.” She took another sip.
“Say what you gotta say.”
She stacked up pretty much every cussing word and phrase in the book, one on top of the other, to describe this man, some combinations I didn’t even realized matched. Then she took a deep breath. “That felt good.”
“Glad to be here for you. You still haven’t told me what happened.”
Two blocks over, Elijah and his friend zipped by on their bicycles. He threw us a wave, which Gabriella and I returned.
“God, I hope Elijah won’t turn out like Lorenzo.”
“He won’t,” I assured her. “He wants to be like you. A chef whose food makes people happy.”
She smiled. “Awww. He’s so sweet. And kind. Most kids are. What happens to boys between ten and thirty?”
“According to the wisdom of Earth, Wind & Fire, the world makes a heart cold over time.”
“Earth, wind, and who?”
I’d forgotten who I was talking to for a second. “They were an R and B band. In the seventies.”
She sipped again. “Cold heartis the right phrase. Frozen. Solid. Lorenzo wants me to move back in with him, get married, start a family, and become a partner in the restaurant. Like, yesterday.”
“He proposed?”
“No. He didn’t. He just named off all these things he wants us to do, like it was a checklist.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” she huffed. “It’s like he’s never seen a final episode ofThe Bachelor.”
I could only follow with “Oh.”
Gabriella twirled her head and faced me. “You’ve never seen a final episode, either?”
“I haven’t seenanyepisodes.”
She smacked her forehead. “Ay yi yi. What am I going to do with you?”
“Just like you’ve never heard of Earth, Wind & Fire,” I reminded her.
A smile snuck across her face, and we both laughed at ourselves, sipping wine across these swings and across this generational gap.
“The thing is,” she continued, “I want those things, too. A husband, a family, a place to cook and bring people happiness, like Elijah said. But his presentation was all wrong because his heart is so freakin’ cold. He wants me to joinhislife, not makeourlife together. You don’t like him, do you?”
