Bash: I think I know what I’m grateful for this year
Lydia: Hmm, and what’s that?
Bash: Nothing crazy, just this really special girl who bulldozed into my life recently. She’s kinda changed it
Lydia: In a good way or a bad way?
Bash: In the best way
Lydia: She must be pretty special then
Bash: Funny…my mom said the same thing
Lydia: You told your mom about this girl? Whoa, that’s…big?
Bash: Is it weird that I did?
Lydia: No…I think she’d probably have butterflies right now if she knew
The grin on my face hurts, and I swipe my tongue across my teeth, trying to hide it.
“Are you texting her right now?” my aunt asks way too loudly on purpose.
My head snaps back up, eyes narrowing on her for ratting me out. She just laughs, and I shake my head, smiling back at her.
* * *
I stare at my phone, lying in the now guest bed in a room that still holds my childhood. It’s quiet in the house; my parents have gone to bed, and I can’t stop thinking about the one voice I’ve wanted to hear all day.
I hit call before I can overthink it.
“Hey,” she says, and it’s amazing how one syllable from one girl can make everything feel lighter.
“Hey,” I say back.
“Hey,” she says again, and then laughs.
“How was it,” I ask carefully, “today?”
“Good,” she says, and I can hear the surprise realization in it, like she’s still checking her own answer. “Hard the way holidays always are, but…less triggering than I expected. I ate too much, Huxley stole half the food off my plate, and Sarah cried after we took a family photo. So, you know…normal.”
“Normal is underrated,” I say, smiling into the dark.
“Oh, and Simone brought me some really bomb pecan pie her mom made because she knows how obsessed I am with her baking.”
“Are you bringing me back a slice?” I ask, teasing her.
“I apologize, but the pie was actually immediately inhaled as soon as it made it into my hands. There aren’t even any crumbs left to share…but if you want to take the stomach ache I currently have from eating all three slices, I’ll gladly give you that.”
“I would gladly take it for you.”
I hear her giggle, and it’s the cutest sound.
“So, what about you?” she asks. “How was today?”
“Good, actually. Loud and chaotic, the way a 2000-square-foot house is with twenty people in it. A lot of laughter and a lot of good food…not that much pain, which is new.”
“That’s good,” she says softly.
