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“I know.” He appeared in the doorway.
I walked past the bed, running my hand along the puffy white comforter, over to the cream-colored dresser. I picked up a picture frame that had been placed there. It held my favorite picture of me and Shelly, taken after we had met on the first day of kindergarten. “You decorated, too?”
“That was me!” Shelly called from the kitchen.
The frame next to it displayed another one of my favorites. My father, in the cherry red Chevelle we had built together, with my eighteen-year old self grinning wildly from the driver’s seat for the first time.
“I love your smile in that picture,” Chase said.
I noticed the third picture frame was empty.
“That one is being saved for a picture of us.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“You’ve got some old pictures there – important memories from your past. Now it’s time to make some new memories – fun memories in your new life.”
I turned around to look at him. His hair was messier than usual; he had undoubtedly woken up early to finish painting. Without him stepping into my life that day in the cafeteria, none of this would be happening. No apartment, no job. He would have remained the beautiful stranger he had always been. Instead, we stood in my new bedroom, in my new apartment. I would be starting my new job at the auto shop tomorrow. My sling would be off in a few weeks thereafter. It felt like everything was gradually, finally, going back to normal – a new normal. It felt like for the first time, I was in control of my life.
I walked towards him without saying a word, and burrowed my head into his chest. His arms wrapped around me and held me tight. A mere “thank you” would not say enough how grateful I was for him. He rested his chin on the crown of my head. I knew he understood.
“Come on, you two,” Brody called. “Breakfast is getting cold.”
I turned around just in time to catch Shelly smack his arm for interrupting us. I sat beside her at the table. “Is that my spatula? Do I own a spatula?”
“You are now the proud owner of a spatula. I’m so happy for you, Merritt.” Brody smiled his toothy grin – the same smile that made me instantly want to be his friend ten years ago. “Your place looks great.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you guys, so much.” I made eye contact with Chase across the table.
The four of us talked and laughed while we filled our stomachs with sugar and gluten. Brody always made the best pancakes. They were never burned or flat like when I attempted to make them; they were fluffy golden perfection.
After breakfast, the boys left. Shelly flopped onto the couch while I sprawled out on the recliner.
“This thing is comfortable. I need to get myself a sugar mama like Beverly.”
I shook my head. “I feel so guilty staying there for free.”
“Don’t feel guilty. You deserve something nice for a change.”
“Chase said the same thing.”
She was quiet for a moment. “He cares about you, Merritt. Truly.”
“I know.”
The truth took her by surprise. She sat up. “You know?”
“I do. I just don’t know what to do with it.”
“You accept it. That’s what you do. Let it in.”
I stared up at the ceiling. “Do you remember when your parents took us to the Grand Canyon senior year?”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember when we hiked up to the top of that one rocky area, and the tour guide wanted us to scale around it to the other side? My legs locked up and I couldn’t move. He reached his hand out for me, and kept telling me to walk towards him.”
“But you couldn’t,” she recalled.
