Page 10 of Weekends with You

He interrupted my speculation by passing me a greasy cardboard takeaway container, for which I was grateful.

“Well?” I said.

“Massaman curry. Taste it and tell me what you think.”

I put a small forkful in my mouth, tentatively letting the flavors melt on my tongue. Warm spices mingled with subtle chiles, and the vegetables were perfectly tender. The saturated rice tasted of fresh coconut, and the entire mouthful had all the comfort of a family recipe. He was dead-on.

I had to all but force my eyes not to roll back into my head while I was eating it, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to wind him up. “It’s okay.”

“You’re a liar,” he said, a victorious smile plastered across his face. “Say you love it.”

“Everyone ready?” Finn interrupted, and we grunted in confirmation. Jan killed the lights, and we settled into silence as the opening credits rolled.

“I love it,” I whispered in Henry’s direction in the darkness, only partially talking about the curry.

“Me too.” He leaned over and stuck his fork into the container, putting a huge bite of my food into his mouth.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Hey, both of you,” Jan said in a mock whisper. “Shut up, would ya?”

We stifled giggles and hung our heads like children, trying to focus on the screen.

By the time the end credits rolled, I was confident I’d focused on no more than 20 percent of the movie. Even that might be generous. It was something about a woman alone in a house, somewhere near the woods, I didn’t know.

What I did know was that about halfway through the movie, Henry had relaxed into his spot on the floor, and we sat with our shoulders leaned against each other until the end. My entire butt had fallen asleep, but the pins and needles were a small price to pay. Surely Liv had noticed, as she was sitting right behind us on the couch, but she was kind enough to let us have the moment. The really, really small moment that was making me behave like a fifteen-year-old.

All eight of us collectively reviewed the film as we tidied the graveyard of empty beer cans and takeaway containers, and I was thankful there was finally conversation again. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could have lasted sitting in the same position, holding my breath, trying not to move a muscle.

“Whose turn is it to take the rubbish down?” Margot asked, sweeping the last of it into the trash bin.

“That would be Lucy,” Jan said, shooting me with finger guns.

“How come everyone seems to forget their own chores but somehow you all remember mine this week?” I asked.

“Because you have the worst one,” Jan laughed, taking the bag from the trash bin and handing it to me. “We always know the Rubbish Runner.”

I groaned, accepting the bag and heading for the elevator.The dumpster was in a creepy spot behind the flat, and while it was tempting to just drop the bags from the window, one of us was always assigned to drag them into the elevator and out to the trash.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Henry said, and before I could even process thought of the two of us out back in the dark together, Jan shot him down.

“That’s cheating,” he said. “The Rubbish Runner goes alone. Lucy knows the rules.”

“That might be the dumbest rule of them all,” I said, and not just because of what was at stake. “Why do we make this more miserable for ourselves?”

“We’re masochists, that’s why,” Jan said.

“Didn’t Finn help Liv last week?” I said.

“Liv’s a waif,” Finn said. “Can’t do anything on her own, that one.”

“I’m right here,” Liv said, swatting his arm. He made a kissy-face in her direction, and she waved him off.

“I’ll do it in her place,” Henry said. “There’s no rule against Rubbish Runner substitutions, is there?” He grabbed the bag from my hands, and I savored the brief touch of our fingers.

“Only because no one else has ever volunteered,” Raja said, looking Henry up and down.

“There’s a first for everything,” he said. “Back in a min.” And with that, he disappeared into the elevator, rubbish in hand, before anyone could argue.

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