Page 39 of The Fireman and the Flirt

Or as Cary might’ve said, “Stars are nature’s track lighting.”

Eh, that one was a 6.5/10.

12

CARY

Belinda Carlisle famously sang that heaven was a place on earth. More specifically, the heaven she was crooning about was my Aunt Claire’s living room sofa.

I was currently relaxing on my aunt’s reclining sofa, the kind with cup holders built into the arms, while smothered under thick, hand-knit blankets plural, watching a movie on cable that I would never choose to watch on my own but was very invested in at the moment.

Aka heaven.

The only thing missing was Derek snuggled up next to me. And by missing, I meant something I shouldn’t be thinking about at all.

Aunt Claire was a genius because she furnished her house with comfort solely in mind. Her kind of couch would be mocked on Instagram for being unstylish, but it was ridiculously large and comfortable. There was enough room for me and my cousins Harold and Maudrey to lounge without fighting over couch space. Her name was Audrey, but after we watchedHarold and Maudein high school, how could wenotcall her Maudrey?

This was how Thanksgivings usually went: the kids hanging around the house, the grown-ups talking around the dining table into the evening. It didn’t matter that my cousins and I were all over the age of thirty-five. We would forever be “the kids.”

Aunt Claire came into the living room with a plate of cookies for us. She looked at the TV and asked what kind of cockamammy movie we were watching, but then stood there for ten minutes watching along with us.

It was these traditions that made holidays so important to me.

“You’ve been on your phone all night,” Aunt Claire said to me while I scrolled.

“Have not,” I said.

“Are you watching TV or are you on your phone?”

“I’m a millennial. I can do both.” If she chose to ask me a question about the movie on TV, I could’ve answered her with total accuracy.

She smiled to herself, finding us ridiculous but endearing.

“You kids,” she said to a bunch of grown-ass adults with a laugh before leaving.

“Youhavebeen on your phone all night,” said Maudrey. “Like unhealthy, Gen Z-levels.”

“There’s no such thing.” My phone buzzed again. The same surge of serotonin hit my brain and my balls when Derek’s name popped up.

He sent me a picture of a black screen.

Cary: Did you butt-text me a picture?

Derek: I tried sending you a picture of all the stars in the sky, but now I see that it just looks black.

Cary: I can kind of make them out.

It didn’t matter that it was a black screen. Derek sent me all the stars in the sky. Stars were inherently romantic. And thus, I had no choice but to swoon.

Derek: How’s your night?

Cary: I’m watching a movie with my cousins while I look up house listings in my aunt's neighborhood.

Derek: Are you thinking of moving?

Cary: No. I just like looking at housing listings and prices. You don’t do that when you go somewhere?

Derek: Look up house prices? No.

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