“I haven’t been herein ages.” I gazed around the localfarmers market, taking in all the booths and people walking around.
The event wrapped around a sprawling public park with stalls stretching along each side and people wandering from corner to corner. Large trees shaded the sidewalk, keeping the bright sun at bay.
From where Mateo and I stood, I caught the scent of yeasty warm freshly baked bread, roasted nuts, and a hint of fresh herbs. People walked past us armed with reusable bags, hands filled with fresh lemonade or coffee, a few dogs trailing after their owners.
The best part about coming here was finding little things you never knew you needed. You were guaranteed to walk away with at least one new thing you didn’t need but wanted.
“I haven’t been in a while, either,” Mateo admitted. He donned a baseball cap, the bill shadowing his face enough that no one should have noticed who he was unless they looked really closely.
“I bet it’s hard being out in public sometimes with fans everywhere,” I commented. It had to be difficult going places and having everyone know who you were. In the figure skating world, I was well-known, but in regular, everyday situations, I was a nobody.
“Yeah, it can be a bit overwhelming.” As we moved toward the flow of traffic on the sidewalk, Mateo reached down and grabbed my left hand. He did it so casually. Like he had done it a million times already.
I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth to hide my smile. His hand was a lot larger than mine, more calloused too, but it fit perfectly as he threaded his fingers through mine. A quick glance down showed my hand swallowed by his. I liked the look of his hand around my pale one.
Mateo and I walked with the crowd, passing by booths.
“I never would have taken you for a farmers market kinda guy,” I said a moment later.
“My mom and I used to go to some back in Toronto,” Mateo answered. “There was this one in spring that would have fresh flowers, local honey, lawn ornaments. My mom loved to spend a whole Saturday walking around, trying stuff, buying little things here and there. When I was in university we made it a thing that we would go every Saturday the month of April.”
I loved the way he talked about her. The way his tone shifted and a smile took over his face.
“You’re a momma’s boy, aren’t you?” I said teasingly.
“I am.” He grinned down at me. “She’s the best person I know.”
A wave of melancholy swept through me. I came to accept that I’d never have a mother figure, but sometimes the reality of it still stung. My dad did his best raising me alone and carried the weight of both roles. Our strained relationship aside, I never felt unloved or like I was missing out on something.
“What about your dad?” I asked as we walked up to a booth selling all different kinds of homemade soaps.
Mateo was quiet for a beat. He brought a bar of soap to his nose and set it back down before answering.
“My dad walked out on us when I was born.” The tension in his voice was unmistakable. I had a feeling I just brought up a very sore topic.
“Mateo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” I quickly amended.
He gently squeezed my hand. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t know.”
The words slipped out. “I didn’t know my mom, either.” Something Mateo and I had in common was an absenteeparent. “All I know is she showed up on my dad’s doorstep when I was three months old and left.”
My dad didn’t know I existed until that moment. One second, he was a single twenty-five-year-old living his life, and the next, he was a father to a three-month-old.
“Oh, wow. I’m sorry, Em.”
“Hey, we’re basically trauma bonded,” I joked, hoping to dispel the discomfort in the air.
“You have mommy issues, and I have daddy issues,” Mateo joked back.
We shared a grin. “The perfect pair.”
Wanting to get away from the hard topic of parents, I put my right hand on Mateo’s arm, peering up at him with a smile. “What do you say about getting shaved ice?”
Mateo matched my expression. “I say you’re a woman after my own heart.”
I tugged his arm away, pulling him from the soap booth and toward a shaved ice stand I saw earlier.
For the next two hours, we walked around the farmers market eating our shaved ice, looking at all of the booths, and trying different kinds of foods. I laughed more in the last two hours than I had in years.
