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I nod my head sideways. “No thanks. I’ll eat later.”
“You sure? I make a mean toast and sunny-side-up with a side salad and fresh lemonade.” Her eyebrows curve upward while she steers her head up and down.
It does sound like a nice meal… “Why not, do you need help?”
“If you want to.”
Before she bolts to the kitchen like her ass has been stung by a sea urchin. I manage to verbalize my thoughts. “I thought we could go on a road trip to cheer you up before you go back to get your van but you seem great so—“
“Where are we going?” Excitement dances behind her eyes.
I can’t hold the smile from molding my cheeks. “Santa Monica.”
“Yes, I’m down!” She jumps, clapping her aqua-painted nails together. “I’m ready.” She twirls on the balls of her feet, waving her hands along the length of her frame, emphasizing her point.
I chuckle, “I can see that.”
“What are you waiting for? Go change and come help me when you’re done. Those lemons aren’t going to squeeze themselves.” The cute sarcastic tone is not lost on me as she winks and waltzes inside the house.
“Yes, ma’am. So busy.”
I grin to myself as I move past her and climb the stairs, “Two minutes.” I throw on a white shirt and ripped skinny jeans paired with my white sneakers. I grab my black ball cap from my nightstand before I leave the room.
“Will you choose a song already?”
Lenny has been scrolling through my phone for the past twenty minutes, searching for a nonexistent song on my playlist.
Thankfully, we’ll arrive in Santa Monica in a few minutes.
After two hours of driving and maneuvering through small traffic, I need to lift my spine off the seat since feeling my legs became a privilege.
I’m six foot three it has its defects.
By the end of the song Just Breath by Pearl Jam, we’re parking my car on the beach grounds.
“Let’s find milkshakes, I’m craving something cold and sweet.” She closes her side of the door, “I can afford up to twenty dollars. Big spender!”
That contagious energy again.
I fix my shades, “I got you,” I invited her to have fun and to forget about the problems she left at home, “Don’t worry about money.”
Rounding the car toward me, “Take it out of my paycheck, including yesterday’s food and drinks.”
I wonder if she can read my steel expression. I’m really not feeling this conversation. “Fine.” I won’t do it but if it’ll make her feel better for the time being, so be it.
“Great.” She goes to walk and stops, I almost bump into her but manage to halt in time. “Almost forgot my backpack.”
“Right…” I unlock the car again, “I’m on it.”
Thirty minutes later, strawberries, vanilla, chunks of salty caramel, and chocolate swim on my tongue—these milkshakes were worth the hassle.
I push my black shades on the slope of my nose as we bask under the sun on a blanket Lenny asked to borrow.
Kids running and playing on the sand. A flock of birds flapping their wings and chirping as they cross the teal skies.
The pier of Santa Monica is a mile to my right. People roam the different shops and vendors as they make their way to the Pacific Park rides and experiment with the boardwalk-style midway games.
A leakage of melting milkshake stains the corner of her mouth, “Oh my gawd, this is heaven.” Lenny is consumed by the blend of tastes much like I was a minute ago, now I’m consumed by her.
