“Whoa,whoa. Wait.Molly?”
Ifelt like an idiot as I realized he hadn’t initially recognized me. “Oh. Yeah.Sorry. I should’ve mentioned that.” God,whyhadn’t he recognized me? We were friends on socialmediaand I did post the occasional picture. He had to know what I looked like now.Or was I really that easily forgotten?
Hestepped away from the mower and approached. “God, I’m sorry about that. The sunwas in my eyes.”
“Oh.”I pushed a smile, shook my head and waved the comment away. It might’ve been anexcuse, or it could’ve been the truth—who knows? Either way, I appreciated theapology. “It’s fine.”
“I’dgiveyaa hug, but …” He gestured to the rivulets ofsweat dripping over his chest and stomach.
“It’sfine,” I awkwardly repeated, flicking my gaze once again toward the metalbarbells piercing his nipples.
“Anyway,”he went on, shaking his head, “how the hell long has it been? You look …” Hechuckled and awakened the part of me that wanted so badly to deny how good helooked. Howfamiliar. “Well, let’s bereal: you look fuckin’ incredible.”
Thenit was my turn to laugh, even more uncomfortably than before. “Oh, thanks.Sodo you.”
Hesmiled, and there it was. The reminder that somewhere inside this stunningexample of a man was the boy I grew up with. The boy who moved on.
“Youwannacome inside?” he asked, jabbing a thumb overhis shoulder. “It’s hot as balls out here and I need a drink.”
Inodded. “Yeah, sure. Mama sent me over to grab her Tupperware, anyway.”
“Oh,right. She brought cookies over last night.”
Heled the way toward the front door, and I nodded to his back. “Yeah, shementioned that.”
Iturned my head to look at the house. Against the backdrop of blue sky and whiteclouds, it looked nearly as it always had, just older. More weathered. My homeaway from home. Chasing fireflies in the yard. Eating watermelon on the porch.Roasting marshmallows over a fire. And listening to our mamas in the kitchen,playing their old Cat Stevens albums on his nana’s record player.
Breathingdeeply, even in the middle of April, I could smell those old bonfire nights. Icould hear the crackling logs in the flames and the barking of their old CoonHound, Poppy. Nostalgia wrapped around me in a hug as the memories whisperedtheir assurances that they were still there. I sighed, smiling fondly andremembering that floppy-eared lummox and those nights we spent in the yard.
Witha screech, Chad pulled the screen door open and led the way into the house.God, time had stood still at the Wilcox residence. Paint peeled from theceiling, the carpet was matted in spots, and the old sofa and loveseat haddefinitely seenbetter days. Apart from the modern additionof the flat screen on the wall, the place had been trapped in the past.Judgement wrapped around my brain as I glared at the back of his head. I knewhis parents were getting older. They were still busy working their middle-classjobs, but Chad? He was successful and wealthy and certainly had the money andstrength to contribute to the household, so why hadn’t he?
Witha glance over his shoulder, Chad caught my critical glower and stopped walking.“They refuse to let me help out,” he mentioned.
“Oh,I wasn’t—”
“Yeah,you were.” His lips smirked and his eyes twinkled with kindness.
Shamewashed away my scrutiny as I winced apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
“It’sokay. The place looks like crap, I know. Believe me, if I had my way, I’d fixit up real nice.” He spoke with a dreamy lilt to his voice, and I questionedwhat he wasn’t saying, until he pointed toward the TV. “Ididbuy that,after their old one bit the dust, though. They couldn’t say no when I broughtthat thing home.”
“Sneaky,”I laughed.
Hechuckled and began walking again. “If youwannaknowsomethingreallysneaky … I leavethem money where they’ll least expect it.”
Familiarityand adoration lit a candle in my heart as my smile broadened. “Like where?”
“Like,Dad will randomly find a fifty in his coat pocket or Mama will find a twenty inher purse, and they just assume they forgot it in there or something.” Chadshrugged and chuckled again. “If they suspect anything, they don’t say it.”
Thegentle flicker of the candle grew rapidly until a blazing fire consumed me. Therelief alone could’ve scorched me, knowing that he hadn’t changed.
“So,uh … happy birthday, by the way,” I said to the back of his head, and onceagain, he glanced over his shoulder with a heartwarming smile.
“Youremembered.”
“Ofcourse, I remembered,” I nearly laughed.
“Thanks,Molls.”
