December 29th, 2008
Monday
“Remember the first day of school?First day of Senior year.My first day at that school,” Miles says.
He’s terribly trying to finish his sentence without laughing, and I know exactly which memory he’s recalling.
“You showed up late for the Principal’s lecture,” he says, “and walked in through the wrong door.”
“I had no idea they rearranged the room like that,” I state through laughter.“Oh, I was so embarrassed!”I remember.
“Your cheeks went red.”
“The whole senior class was looking at me!”I cry out.
“You stepped into the room right next to the Principal, as if you were a new teacher standing up to introduce herself.”Laughter spills into his words.
“And I had to apologize and walk down the aisle of chairs until I reached an empty seat at the back.”
I had been so embarrassed.It’s funny.What’s the time rule for when shame melts into humor?
“Back then, I didn’t know that was naturallyyou,” he adds, amused.
“Well,” I straighten up, trying to compose myself, “I’m a grown-up woman now.”
He looks at me, his green eyes half-closed and a slight smile on his lips.“You’re not fooling anyone.”
At this exact moment, I recognize the street we’re on.I passed by here yesterday.There’s a restaurant where I want us to have dinner tonight.
“We’re almost at the place.I want to offer you this dinner,” I demand.“To thank you for these last days and the tour around the city.”
I don’t know when I’ll see him again.I haven’t thought much about it.Miles will be here, and I’ll be miles away.Who knows when one of us will land on the other’s territory again?Maybe now we can preserve our friendship.Can we?
Miles smiles and asks where we’re stopping.I tell him it’s anonymous until we get there.And he still doesn’t hesitate to follow me.
“Mexican food!”I open my arms as we arrive at the restaurant terrace.
“I love this place!”
“I assumed you would.”
When I saw this restaurant yesterday, the idea of us having dinner here was instant.I thought it would make Miles happy.
“American-style tacos.”He points at the A-frame sign on the sidewalk.And I give a knowing smile at his joy.
We’re laughing, but our laughs get lost in the cheerful noise of the terrace.We finally get to eatAmerican-style tacosin a big city.They’re not as hyped anymore; I would saysushi burritoshave stolen their spotlight.But Miles still has the same enthusiasm for them, and it’s honestly too funny to watch.
We’re sitting on the terrace under a standing outdoor heater, still looking at the menus the waiter brought us, talking about the potential business Miles could start with a taco food truck.I take off my coat and glance down at my hands.I’m about to remove my blue fingerless gloves and one of the three rings on my left hand is an engagement ring I haven’t told him about.It makes no sense that I haven’t.I answered Bill’s call earlier, no problem for Miles to see it.I walked back to him ready to casually tell him about everything — the love part of my life, the only part we haven’t asked each other about — and then I got interrupted.I had no intention of hiding it, and yet here I am, hiding it.It’s illogical.Senseless.Unreasonably stupid of me.I take the gloves off.
Miles doesn’t notice it.
It’s the first time in these three days that we’ve actually sat down together at a restaurant for a meal.Until now, we’ve been eating on the go, grabbing food from trucks, snacking as we walk, meeting before or after meals.
“I just—”
“There’s—”
“Oh,” he grins at the intersection of words, “I’m sorry, I just wanted to say that I’ve missed you.”
