He smiles. “I feel good today. And I like seeing you open like this.”
I inhale, but nothing follows. I try not to overthink what that meant.
I slow to a stop at a traffic light, staring at the red like I can force it to turn.
His hand settles lightly around my wrist, thumb stroking over the pulse there. Once, then again; probably testing the waters.
I allow all of it.
“Tom…” My voice breaks.
“I want to thank you for today, I needed this.”
A small nod. God, I wish I could freeze time right now.
I don’t want to think past this red light, past this song on the radio, or past the warmth between his palm and the back of my hand. Amsterdam will come soon enough, so will his brother, Jay.
It hurts.
I don’t know if I will have a place in his life. I just know that watching him this happy and doing nothing to protect his smile feels impossible.
The light turns green and I step on the gas.
I have one last surprise for him, which I’m sure will make today close to perfect.
The road through the hills feels like a rollercoaster, my ears popping with the pressure change the higher we go.
We reach the top and get a wide view of the salt flats below: candy-pink lakes and massive white piles of salt, as tall as a four-story building. There are hundreds of flamingos wading in the shallows, just as pink as the water, maybe a shade more coral. There are small grey babies too.
Who needs Egypt when you’ve got white pyramids, pink lakes, and all these exotic birds living their best life? Not me. I’m exactly where I want to be.
“Oh my god! Look!” Tom grabs my arm, as if I could possibly miss it.
Keeping my eyes on the road, I can’t help but smile at him, bouncing like six-year-old beside me.
I drive up to the viewpoint and park the car. Tom jumps out and heads straight for the edge of the cliff. He grabs the railing and turns back to me.
“Yosh, this is amazing. Look at them! They are so pink, and cute, and awkward!”
I lean against the railing, arms folded, saying nothing, just enjoying the view.
Yes, the flamingos too.But mostly him.
“What are you grateful for?” Tom asks.
“Today,” I say without even a single hesitation.
“Yeah, me too.” He peers up. “You know those movies where the main character is stuck in a loop and wakes up to relive the same day over and over again? I want that for today. No yesterday, no tomorrow.”
I smile. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”
Tom takes a camera from his backpack; a instant film.
“Come on, let’s take a photo,” he says, already fiddling with the settings.
“That’s so cool. You always have it with you?” I ask.
“Yeah. This is Cameron, my fan-cam. When someone stops me for a photo, I give them one they can take home.”
