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“You do you, boo. That’s my motto. But that’s for sure gonna turn into a core memory.” Charlie pointed to a shaded black park bench. “After that, I gotta sit down.”
They zigzagged through the thumping throngs of parade-goers and past the vendors to their spot. Charlie sat carefully on the bench to avoid crushing her fairy wings.
Mack laid her arm across the back of the bench, removed it, and pinched the tips of her fingers. “I’ve never seen anything like this parade.” Mack wiggled in her seat. “The naked bike riders, though…”
“Right? Do you wonder what their bike seat looks like when they stand? I feel like all of them would leave a puddle of sweaty paint on it and walk around like one of those red butt monkeys I see on the Discovery Channel.”
“I’m dying. I just can’t.” Mack chuckled and pulled her hands out from under her. Shifting on the bench like she had zaps of energy poking at her, she finally turned her body. Their thighs met and Mack’s sporadic movements quieted.
Charlie froze to elongate the touch. The tingles spreading up her leg were probably more intense than they should be after only knowing someone a short while. It felt good—a littletoogood. She shifted her body to break the contact.
After several minutes of admiring various stormtroopers, Harley Quinn, and Deadpool body art, she leaned toward Mack. “I bet your dad’s happy you’re here. He probably misses you.”
“Yeah, both he and my mom are. I miss New York, though, and I’ve only been here two weeks.”
“Oh yeah? What do you miss the most?”
Mack plucked at her jeans. “Hmmm. My bed. My own space. The bagel vendor two blocks from my apartment.”
“Rude.” Charlie’s playful voice masked her heart dropping.
“Wait!” Mack smacked her palms on her thighs. “Your bagels are a close second.”
The competition bagel wasn’t what made Charlie’s heart drop. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that…this… was temporary. This level of negative reaction upon being reminded that acustomerwas in town on a visit shouldn’t creep up and chokehold her the way it did. She slid away from Mack, needing to create some physical distance to offset her wavering emotions.
Mack’s dad crossed back towards them, keeping his eyes on the drink carrier, even when a spectacular, curvy brunette passed him with pasties, a neon orange handkerchief-turned-skirt, and a luscious smile.
“Here ya go.” He handed them each their bubble tea, and they clicked their plastic cups in cheers. The refreshing blast of cold, sugary, creamed tea was a welcome reprieve from the summer heat.
“Good job keeping your eyes to yourself,” Mack said to her dad while chewing on a tapioca ball.
“Your mom has the same outfit at home and wears it better.”
Mack scrunched her nose. “How is it that I’m constantly both proud and disgusted with you?”
He tipped the rim of his hat with a smile.
Soon, they each pointed out their favorite costumes as a smolder of jealousy simmered in Charlie over Mack and her dad’s obvious close connection. The only positive memories Charlie could conjure up of her father were a few random pancake mornings and a crabbing trip to Ocean Shores.
When a man in flamingo-pink paint and a yellow tutu passed them, Mack’s dad nudged Mack with his arm. “Remember when Mom and I bought you that ballerina outfit for dance class when you were a kid?”
“Hmm. Maybe? Was I like five or six?”
“Charlie, you should’ve seen it.” He leaned forward to catch Charlie’s eyes. “Mackrefusedto wear it. Christ, those temper tantrums. Kicking at the floor. Screaming. Swear to God, I thought we were gonna get evicted. But after her mom bribed Mack with an obscene amount of candy, she finally put it on.”
His smile was broad and contagious, and Charlie indulged in every nuance of his voice as he continued.
“So she storms out of the room with her little pink leotard thingy, and this huge, girly tutu, but she’s wearing my mud-crusted work boots. And she. Is.Pissed.”
He hopped up and stomped with an exaggerated growl, imitating a grumpy young Mack, his hands balled into fists as he swung his arms like he was wading through mud. “So me and my wife are all,you’re so cute, Mack. Do you love it? It’s so pretty.Then we asked her what’s wrong. And she slams her hands on her hips and yells,I. Hate. Pink!”
The bench vibrated when he plopped back down and Charlie giggled.
Mack laughed. “You’re so embarrassing.”
“God, that’s a great story,” Charlie said, scratching the side of her neck where the wings tickled her. Along with it, she felt the all-too-familiar sensation of family relationships being a spectator sport. What would it be like to have a reliable parent? Just one to share stupid old stories about making forts in the living room or trying on your mom’s old dresses and heels.
“Oh… look at that outfit.” Mack wiggled her finger at a Black Widow costume. “I mean, Scarlett Johansson…”
