I wince as I introduce ideas. “I should have run that all by you first, but I wanted to see if it was even possible. Not to mention if you even liked the idea of any of those things. It’d mean splitting your time between Maine and Massachusetts, but you’d kind of mentioned that before as a possibility. So, we could stay at my place in Boston, and it’s not as though there’d be an extra expense—”
Dave gently and lovingly claps a hand over my mouth.
“I’m so, so in.” After he pulls back and sighs heavily, he asks, “Did you say something about illustrations for this hypothetical kids book?”
“Maybe. Katrina sketched some ideas.” I shouldn’t be hesitant to show him, but I am. Sharing any artist’s work is nerve-racking, so I duck and clench my fists and semi-hide as I pass him my phone.
Dave takes minutes with each image, clearly savoring each visual just as I did. The colored sketches of him poised by his food truck. By the harbor and the boats. Another of his friends hauling lobster traps during rough seas. Such a stunning portrait of Anjanette pulling up a monstrously big cage of lobsters.
Lastly, the one of Dave on his old boat, an arm around Little Blue, and both of them in full gear.
His beautifully wordless response and expression tell me that I didn’t make a bad choice. It’s a hug, the way his body is fully and gently against mine, that tells me everything I need to know.
It’s a standing scoop.
I’m so sad that it had to rain so hard for both of us, but we’re going to have a wildly special life because of the unexpected, the unwanted.
No one asks for a flood of misery. It just happens.
But maybe just a light rain from now on would be good?
Epilogue
Dave does not hold back as he sets down his bags and walks through my Boston condo.
“It’s gorgeous.” He spins my way. “This living room? Wild.”
After he’s meandered through the space, and swooned, and checked out the quintessential Boston architecture view from the windows, he nears the back of my place.
“Okay, but I didn’t really prepare you…” I do a kind of face-plant and laugh.
When he comes back, he finishes my sentence. “For how the bedroom barely fits a full bed? The bathroom might allow one person to shower, but only if they’re hunched over? And the kitchen? Dear God, the kitchen…” But he’s smiling because it is sort of funny.
“Okay, I have some justifications here,” I say while laughing and spinning my way through the main room with my arms open wide, trying to sell the space. But then I drop my hands and take a beat. “This place made sense when I bought it. I don’t cook much, so I can excuse the kitchen. The bathroom and the bedroom? I dunno. Yes, both are very small. But it’s not as though I ever shared those spaces with other people.” I drop my hands. “Not until now.”
Dave squeezes my hand for a second before he walks off. “I love it here. I will cook, and shower, and scoop you in spaces of any size.”
I feel as though I’m about to offer a good idea. I’m not nearly as terrified by this proposal as I would have been months ago. “What if I told you that there’s a two-bedroom above mine for sale? The living room isn’t as huge, but the other rooms are less teeny.”
Dave laughs. “Is the kitchen less weirdly teeny? Like, it might be possible to cook something there? Even a small meal?” His continued self-tour of my place is getting unnerving.
I about roll my eyes and admit, “It’s actually pretty spacious. There may even be two islands. And, fine, there’s a double fridge.”
“I think I might love that.” Dave pulls me in. “Like, I could cook an omelet and not nearly bash my head in when flipping a pan?”
“Funny, funny. Okay, but true.”
“This is all fun and decidedly gorgeous. And I so want to be Boston Dave with you, but I don’t need this…luxury.”
“I don’t need it either,” I agree. “Nobodyneedsthis. But I’m earning enough to afford this and more. I get to treat myself. And now us.”
Dave happily slumps into my couch. “Fine. So, can I try these dumplings you’ve been loving?”
“You betcha!”
“Make that call.”
And so I do, and Chu and Jia show up soon with every flavor they have, and I insist they sit with us as we all dunk and devour.
