“Do you remember the time when we almost screwed things up?” asks Gina.
Of course, I remember. It was a time, when my raging testosterone levels told me to fall in love with every pretty girl I knew. At that time, summer days were still part of my vocabulary, and I would waste all of them away with her. We would go to all the summer fairs, mix up our summer soundtrack, and drink cherry coke under the blazing sun, while we daydreamed about our lives ten years from then. Every secret I knew and everything she kept from everyone else pulled me into an endless pit of infatuation, or maybe even love, if it existed at that age. I could swear to the high heavens that she was in my life because I was going to marry her someday.
She stops mashing the potatoes for a while, “I bet you’re cringing a little bit in your head right now.”
I slowly drink the water in my glass, raising one of my eyebrows at her.
“Remember that night you tried to kiss me?” She lets out a little laugh. She looks at the orchids outside the window for a while; then, she adds some butter to the big mound of starch. She smiles at me, waiting for an answer.
“Please don’t remind me.”
“We were able to make something great out of that awkward moment, though. Weren’t we?”
I flash her a smile and give her a nod. She knows what that means.
Gina transfers the creamy mash into a bowl, and garnishes it with parsley. She always had the ability to add color to every plain, ordinary thing.
“Imagine how things would be right now if I let you kiss me that night,” she adds.
She accidentally brushes her hand against mine, and for the first time since I saw her crying over a scraped knee when we were five, I feel nothing. Things right now are definitely not like how I thought they would be ten years ago.
[Credits to the photographer for the picture]
Slurs and Purrs 