Page 27 of A World Without You
She thinks for a minute. “A Zimbabwe?”
I laugh, and Bennett says, “That’s a country.”
“Right,” she says. “It starts with a Z, though.”
“Zofran!” Mom says, and Bennett and I explode in laughter.
“That’s a medication,” I say through laughing tears. I’ve taken it many times.
“What on earth is that thing called?” Shannon asks, looking between Clint and Dad. Their foreheads are crinkled in contemplation, so she looks at Bennett.
He holds up his hands. “I don’t know. It’d be a fun gig, though.”
“I wonder what kind of training you need for that...” I ponder because, for a brief moment, gliding around the rink on a scooter thing on the ice sounds fantastic.
“A zircon?” Clint asks.
“Zapper?” Dad suggests.
“A ziti?” Shannon throws in.
“A zealot!” Mom yells far too confidently.
“I’ve been dropped into a Dr. Suess book,” I comment, and Bennett and I exchange a long, knowing glance, laughter in our eyes.
“Ah, I don’t know. I’ll think of it in the middle of the night, I’m sure,” Shannon says, then exhales as she continues to shuffle the cards. “Bennett, you could see if there are any positions open where you work.” She turns to me. “He works at corporate for Wellingtons. You know they always need seasonal workers this time of year.”
I nod in understanding and catch eyes with Bennett. Wellingtons is a department store located in downtown Seattle that Bennett has worked at for years.
“I could look,” he says.
“All right, who’s in this round?” Shannon asks before dealing out the cards she’s been shuffling.
“I’m sitting this one out and going to work on the dishes,” I say.
“You’re a doll!” Mom sings.
“I can help.” Bennett rises from the table with me.
It happens quickly, but as we both collect the dessert and charcuterie plates from the game table, we pass under the cased opening leading to the kitchen in sync, not noticing the greenery already hung above us.
“Ah, you two are under the mistletoe!” Shannon yelps with excited claps near her mouth.
Bennett and I both slowly glide our gaze to the bunch of greenery above us. We turn our attention down to meet each other’s eyes. He smiles first. Timid and apologetic. I smile back.
“Now kiss or...bad luck!” Mom shrieks with jubilant laughter, and everyone watches in anticipation. She doesn’t mean toreallykiss. None of them do. They’re our parents, for God’s sake, but they are mildly obnoxious when they get a little tipsy together.
I offer my cheek in an exaggerated gesture, poking it out for a quick peck from Bennett. I wait a full two seconds, and my cheek remains bare, so I pull back, ready to remark that our parents are silly and we shouldn’t have to, but apparently, that was the exact moment Bennett went in to kiss my cheek.
His lips graze mine and heat blooms in my chest. I wasn’t expecting that feeling to arise at such a simple touch and I certainly don’t expect his lips to be as soft as they are, and his beard tickles my chin in a way that makes me want to take his jaw in my hand. But I don’t because I know exactly who almost kissed me.
Bennett Holland: my dad’s college roommate’s son I’ve known since the beginning of time.
I clear my throat and play it off even as our mothers hoot and holler, “Tis the season!”
Bennett and I smile awkwardly at each other after our mishap and make our way to the kitchen with dirty dishes and a clear idea of what each other’s lips taste like. But we play it off, and I change the subject.
“I haven’t worked retail since high school. That would be...different,” I remark to Bennett as I put the empty dessert plates on the kitchen counter.
