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“Oh, um,” she said, and cleared me a tiny corner to sit down.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Just, um, let me know what you want to eat. It’s on me, obviously.”
She kept sort of swaying side to side. If there had been enough room, she probably would have been shuffling her feet around or pacing. I hated that I knew exactly what she looked like when she was stressed out.
“Whatever is fine. Tacos, burgers, sushi. I’m not picky,” I said.
A flicker of a smile flashed on her lips, and then it was gone.
“Yeah, I remember.”
No. No remembering. That was off limits.
We both knew that she was familiar with my food preferences, as I was familiar with hers. She didn’t have to ask me what I would want. She already knew.
“Tacos it is,” she said.
I pretended to be busy on my phone while she put in the order and I briefly considered running down to the truck, getting in, and driving away. But no, I was stuck here and there were tacos coming.
Natalie hummed as she walked through the little pathways between the boxes. It was starting to irritate me.
I tried to focus on just scrolling through my phone, but I couldn’t help but be aware of her.
“Thank you for doing this,” she said so suddenly that I jumped. She stopped walking in front of me, clasping her hands behind her back.
“Wyatt’s paying me so…” I trailed off and shrugged.
“I know. I know that you didn’t want to come, but I really appreciate it. I just didn’t know what I was going to do. So, thank you.”
I wanted to be flippant, but instead I said, “you’re welcome.”
I was saved from having to say anything else by the arrival of the tacos. Natalie got the delivery and then handed me my order while she went to the kitchen. I guess she was just going to stand up at the counter and eat. It felt weird to be sitting when she wasn’t, so I stood up and cleared some more space on the couch.
“You don’t have to stand,” I said, and she came over and sat on the couch with me.
It was a relief to have something to do, and I was so hungry that I wasn’t even thinking of talking as I inhaled the crunchy tacos, a container of rice and beans, and then these little deep-fried cinnamon things. I barely took a breath until I was finished. Natalie had shown a little more restraint and hadn’t devoured her food as quickly.
“Bathroom?” I asked, and she pointed to the door next to the kitchen.
I made my way around the boxes and shut myself in the tiny space. Sure, I’d had to pee, but also, I’d needed a break. The movers weren’t coming for another hour, and I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. I took my time in the bathroom, washing my hands and checking myself in the mirror. I wished I could take a shower, but that would be weird. I was also exhausted and really wished I could take a nap.
When I came back out, Natalie was cleaning up and stuffing the remnants of the taco meal into a garbage bag.
Now what?
“Do you want to go on a walk?” she asked.
“It’s like a million degrees out.” My Mainer constitution was not used to this kind of heat. Sure, I’d vacationed in Florida with my family, but we’d almost always be on or in the water, or someplace air-conditioned.
“There’s a pool. We could go stick our feet in.”
I guess it was better than sitting and staring at each other in this apartment, so I nodded.
Natalie locked the door and led me down the stairs and to the other side of the complex, where there was a large pool and a playground. The water was full of screaming kids, but we found a place to sit along the edge where it was a little quieter.
“I almost never come down here,” she said, leaning back. “It’s always too crowded.”
