than I thought. I’m jealous! I yank the stroller around and turn the corner. I sit on a bench outside a store and take a deep, steadying breath. Get a grip, Hope.
I check on the babies. They’re both still sleeping. Imagine being so little and fresh and new to the world...right now their lives are perfect and unblemished. Just you wait, little guys. My life, on the other hand...I put my head in my hands and give it all a great big think.
Okay, so I obviously have a crush on Nat. I might be new to the whole girl thing, but I’m not new to how being crushed out feels. This is a crush of the highest order. It’s about way more than a kiss now.
Suddenly I’m in somebody’s shadow. Sigh. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Nat.
“Hey,” she says.
I keep my head in my hands. “Hi?”
“You went right past and you didn’t come in.”
“So you followed me?”
She doesn’t say anything, so I look up. There she is, flashing that smile again. “That’s right.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
I shrug and replace my head in my hands.
“Hey, Hope.” She taps my shoulder.
I don’t look up. “Yeah?”
“Something the matter?”
I laugh. I guess I have to look up now, before she starts to think that I’m some kind of social retard. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”
“It’s something.”
“I think I’m just homesick, that’s all,” I say.
She sits beside me on the bench, very close, considering there’s the whole bench to be had.
“Miss your friends?”
I shake my head. “Not as much as I miss my parents.”
“Wow. That’s unusual,” she laughs.
“We’re really close.” Touchy subject. I can feel the tears already. “They’re in Thailand,building a school, so it’s not like I can just pick up the phone and call them and tell them—” Time to shut up, Hope.
Nat lifts her arm in that classic “gonna-drape-it-across-your-shoulders” move, but instead she clasps her hands together and sets them in her lap. “Ice cream?”
“Now?”
“I think you are in desperate need of some Uncle Louie G’s Peanut Butter Thrill.”
“I don’t like Peanut Butter Thrill.”
“Okay.” She stands and stretches. “So, what do you like?”
Sigh. Why does everything she says seem like a come-on?
“Chocolate Commotion.” Thank the Universe that we are sitting in the shade and my out-of-control blushing isn’t so obvious.
“Correction, then.” She takes my hand and pulls me up. “I think you are in desperate need of some of Uncle Louie G’s Chocolate Commotion. Come on.” She lets go of my hand. “My treat.”
I clutch the stroller, afraid that if I don’t hold onto something with both hands I’llthrow myself at her and chuck her to the ground and try out that kiss right here in the middle of the sidewalk, or, at the very least, grab her hand back and cling to it for dear life. Orion used to tease me that I was a pouncer. Maybe he was right.
Nat shoves her hands into her pockets and I push the stroller, and together we walk to Uncle Louie G’s in near silence, the dogs trailing behind us, collecting their pee-mail. I really, truly, madly want to know what she’s thinking, and if that wasn’t such a murdered line, I might ask. She buys the ice cream, and we sit at one of the tables to eat it.
“How can you just leave work any time you want?” I ask, proud of myself for finding a safe topic.
“I’m the boss,” she says.
“What?”
“I own the shop.”
“Wow, that’s cool.”
“You know how you’re close to your parents?” Nat says.
I nod, trying to keep up with my melting ice cream.
“Well I’m not.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“They’re big into God.” Nat shrugs. “And not so big into me being me.”
“My parents are the kind who love for their kids to be a little freaky. They think it reflects positively on their parenting. They’re hippies. ”
“Yeah, Maira told me the other day when she brought in the bike trailer for the babies. I think
I check on the babies. They’re both still sleeping. Imagine being so little and fresh and new to the world...right now their lives are perfect and unblemished. Just you wait, little guys. My life, on the other hand...I put my head in my hands and give it all a great big think.
Okay, so I obviously have a crush on Nat. I might be new to the whole girl thing, but I’m not new to how being crushed out feels. This is a crush of the highest order. It’s about way more than a kiss now.
Suddenly I’m in somebody’s shadow. Sigh. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Nat.
“Hey,” she says.
I keep my head in my hands. “Hi?”
“You went right past and you didn’t come in.”
“So you followed me?”
She doesn’t say anything, so I look up. There she is, flashing that smile again. “That’s right.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
I shrug and replace my head in my hands.
“Hey, Hope.” She taps my shoulder.
I don’t look up. “Yeah?”
“Something the matter?”
I laugh. I guess I have to look up now, before she starts to think that I’m some kind of social retard. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”
“It’s something.”
“I think I’m just homesick, that’s all,” I say.
She sits beside me on the bench, very close, considering there’s the whole bench to be had.
“Miss your friends?”
I shake my head. “Not as much as I miss my parents.”
“Wow. That’s unusual,” she laughs.
“We’re really close.” Touchy subject. I can feel the tears already. “They’re in Thailand,building a school, so it’s not like I can just pick up the phone and call them and tell them—” Time to shut up, Hope.
Nat lifts her arm in that classic “gonna-drape-it-across-your-shoulders” move, but instead she clasps her hands together and sets them in her lap. “Ice cream?”
“Now?”
“I think you are in desperate need of some Uncle Louie G’s Peanut Butter Thrill.”
“I don’t like Peanut Butter Thrill.”
“Okay.” She stands and stretches. “So, what do you like?”
Sigh. Why does everything she says seem like a come-on?
“Chocolate Commotion.” Thank the Universe that we are sitting in the shade and my out-of-control blushing isn’t so obvious.
“Correction, then.” She takes my hand and pulls me up. “I think you are in desperate need of some of Uncle Louie G’s Chocolate Commotion. Come on.” She lets go of my hand. “My treat.”
I clutch the stroller, afraid that if I don’t hold onto something with both hands I’llthrow myself at her and chuck her to the ground and try out that kiss right here in the middle of the sidewalk, or, at the very least, grab her hand back and cling to it for dear life. Orion used to tease me that I was a pouncer. Maybe he was right.
Nat shoves her hands into her pockets and I push the stroller, and together we walk to Uncle Louie G’s in near silence, the dogs trailing behind us, collecting their pee-mail. I really, truly, madly want to know what she’s thinking, and if that wasn’t such a murdered line, I might ask. She buys the ice cream, and we sit at one of the tables to eat it.
“How can you just leave work any time you want?” I ask, proud of myself for finding a safe topic.
“I’m the boss,” she says.
“What?”
“I own the shop.”
“Wow, that’s cool.”
“You know how you’re close to your parents?” Nat says.
I nod, trying to keep up with my melting ice cream.
“Well I’m not.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“They’re big into God.” Nat shrugs. “And not so big into me being me.”
“My parents are the kind who love for their kids to be a little freaky. They think it reflects positively on their parenting. They’re hippies. ”
“Yeah, Maira told me the other day when she brought in the bike trailer for the babies. I think
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