Page 50 of This Love
“We should have done this before!” I said.
He smiled. “We can do it whenever we like.”
“You mean whenever we can pay for it.”
“That, too.”
I angled the bucket toward him to share. Maria said goodbye until next time, and my whole body rumbled as the noise levels lifted with a scene of a lone woman in a beautiful pink dress with pale blonde hair.
I sat up, unable to look away. I had never felt like this before, like everything inside me was bursting to get out.
And then she started singing. And a woman with a green face and a pointy hat flew down on a broom.
They sang to each other, and I forgot about the popcorn, the seat that moved, and Tucker beside me. I started crying. Everything was so beautiful and sad and wonderful and sharp.
I couldn’t contain everything I felt. My chest was so full. When finally, the screen went black with the words, “Coming in November,” I turned to Tucker. “What just happened?”
“It’s a powerful movie. We’ll watch the first one and then come back in November for the second.”
I reached out to squeeze my hand, and I clutched it like the one thing that I knew was familiar.
Other scenes came on, and some of them were bright or intense. One made everyone laugh, but I couldn’t follow it. Everything happened too fast.
But then there was another pause, and a strange stillness came over the theater, like everyone was finally paying attention.
Tucker leaned over. “Superman is starting.”
I pushed the button to lift my feet a little more. I was full of popcorn, and there was so much left. I balanced it on my belly. It didn’t matter anymore if Superman was a good movie or not. I had already experienced what it was like to live another life and feel things like other people, just from the short pieces I’d watched.
I grabbed hold of Tucker’s hand in case the feelings got that strong again.
I loved this entire experience so far, even the parts I didn’t quite understand. No matter what else we did today, this was really, really good.
Chapter 19
Tucker
I was holding Ava’s hand.
It had been weeks since I had gotten to touch her in any meaningful way. She was overwhelmed by the trailer for Wicked. It was a powerful soundtrack and a beautiful scene. I was glad she’d gotten to experience it.
Seeing it, feeling it, would awaken the artist in her. Vinnie had told me she was struggling with the photos. She didn’t know what to take pictures of. She didn’t see the point. I had been surprised to see her walk up with her camera when I arrived for the date.
But I was willing to bet that after today she would start to see the beauty in everything again. Survivor Ava would shift to the back of her mind, and she would move forward with her own unique vision of what the world, her world, should look like.
I couldn’t wait. It was the best part of being with Ava.
I paid more attention to her than to the movie. She squeezed my fingers when the story got tense, when Superman was trapped by the enemy, and there seemed no way out.
She laughed at the dog. She cried when Superman sat with his father, feeling defeated.
She had no filters, no protections, not yet. She would feel everything deeply, both good and bad. That was why toddlers cried when they were startled. They couldn’t suppress the intensity of their reaction. It felt like near death to them.
She was the same, although she had more control of her body and could adjust more quickly than a two-year-old.
Eventually, she let go of me to take a drink of the soda. By the time we got to the end, she had steadied her emotions again. “That was good. Are all movies like this?”
I picked up the cup and the mostly empty bucket. “No. Some movies are not good at all. But this one was.”
