“Darlin’,I am quite capable ofcookin’.”
Shestopped on the other side of the container and tipped her head. Elongating thebraid cascading over her shoulder. “I love when you call me that.”
“What?Darlin’?”
“Yeah.”She nodded. “It’s nice. Andkindacute.”
Ishrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s what my dad calls my mama.”
“Iknow.” I was surprised to watch her eyes glass over in the faint glow of thelanterns. I asked what was wrong and she shook her head, sniffing back thetears. “Nothin’. This is all just really nice, and Iwasn’texpectin’ any of it.”
Inodded and smiled. I knew that feeling. “Well, come on. Let’s eat before itgets cold.”
Wesat on the old blanket I’d laid out, and as I pulled the food out, Molly peeredcloser at the fabric beneath us and laughed.
“Oh,my God. I can’t believe you still have this!”
“Seriously?You thought I would’ve gotten rid of mySesameStreetblanket?”
“I’mjusthavin’ a hard timebelievin’it’s still in one piece.” She giggled and traced the faces of the characters,faded with love and time. “God, I remembermakin’pillow forts with this thing …”
Ipassed her the covered bowl ofchanamasala and afork. “Yeah, me too.”
“Thatwas a long time ago,” she commented, lifting the lid and taking a deep breath.“This smellsfreakin’amazin’,by the way. I can’t believe you made this.”
Mychest puffed with pride. “Well, thank you. And yeah,” I nodded, pulling out myown dish of grilled salmon and rice, “itwasa long time ago.”
“Lotsof memories,” she added, hushed against the night.
Ipeeled back the clingwrap and grabbed my fork as I began to worry. Maybe therewas such thing as too many memories. Too much time, too much of us as bestfriends, and maybe there wasn’t any room for more. It wasn’t too late to turnback, I realized as I ate. We could always chalk this up to a silly,ill-planned experiment conducted by two people nearing middle age, and neverspeak of it again.
Ilifted my eyes from my plate, to look at her and ask if we were beingridiculous. But then, my vision focused on her, on her crossed legs and barefeet, on the braid stretched along her shoulder and the smile she couldn’t hideeven as she chewed. She was the girl I’d spent the summer nights of mychildhood with, but there was so much there of the woman she’d become that I’dbeen missing out on. And there was plenty of room in my heart forboth of them.
Mollylooked up to meet my gaze. “What?”
Hersmile was illuminated by the light of the lanterns and every high point on herface seemed to glow. She was almost ethereal, damn near angelic, and if Ihadn’t been holding on so tight, I would’ve dropped my fork right onto theground.
“God,”she giggled, lifting a hand to her cheek, “do I havesomethin’on my face?”
Iswallowed and lowered my plate to the blanket. “Nah.”
“Whatis it, then?” She tipped her head with question.
Ishrugged, as I pulled my legs to my chest, and wrapped my arms around my knees.“I’m justwonderin’ when the hell it is you got sobeautiful, and why the hell it took me so long to really notice.”
Herbrow furrowed. “Chad, I …”
“Imean,” I went on, looking up at the thousands of stars, “you’vealwaysbeen beautiful. I’d be blind tonot know that. But lately I feel like I’mopenin’ myeyes for the first time. Hell, maybe it’s that I didn’twannaopen ‘embefore‘causeI’d have toadmit what I waslookin’ at.”
“Andwhat’s that?” she asked in a whisper.
“Idunno,” I replied eloquently and shrugged, flittingmy eyes across the sky. Constellations. Clouds. Darkness. “Everything, I guess.Or at least everything I’ve ever really wanted.”
Speakingso candidly, I was afraid to look at her again, but I did. A coalescence offear and longing painted her face, and what the hell was I supposed to do withthat? I didn’t know if I should run away and give her space, or pull her intome and finally,finallykiss her.
Mollyplaced her bowl beside her, watching her own movements as she swallowed. Herlips parted with a deep inhale and her cheeks ballooned with the exhale. Asthough she’dmade a decision, she gave her head ashallow bob and turned her eyes on me. Unfolding her legs, she leaned forwardand crawled two paces until she was right beside me. Kneeling and shaking, shetook her hands and pressed them to either side of my face.
“Youbroke my heart in high school,” she whispered, her eyes flooding.
