Page 56 of Light Up The Night
She grins at me, winking conspiratorially. "Riley is the younger brother I never had. I like to tease him. Just…you know, soyouknowIknow he's notactuallya goober." She drops hervoice to a stage whisper—why, I am uncertain. "He's actually a great guy. Just don't tell anyone."
"I do not know what a goober is, I must confess, and I also cannot fathom why I should keep Riley's excellent nature a secret."
She does a slow blink, glances at Felix, Riley, and then me. "Oh. Um. It's not…it’s not a secret. I was joking."
"Ah. I see." I am quite nervous to meet Riley’s family—this is all beginning to feel rather formal, which is concerning, seeing as I have known the man less than forty-eight hours; when I am nervous, I am less adept at recognizing humor, especially the teasing kind.
The ensuing silence is awkward, even to me. Clearly, Felix and Ember are not sure how to process my strangeness, especially without context or explanation. I am not given to explaining myself to people; I decided when I was quite young that if I went around explaining myself to everyone who did not understand why I am so strange, I would never say or do anything but in self-explanation. And while Riley seems quite taken with me, which is marvelous and wonderful and gratifying and exciting, I have only just met him and see no need to burden Felix and Ember with all that is me and my strange ways.
Felix breaks the silence. "Well, I've got steaks on the grill out back, so I hope you're hungry." He glances at me. "You vegetarian? Ember hasn't been able to eat meat for most of her pregnancy, so I've got bean burgers if you want that instead of a steak. I could also toss a regular burger on, or some dogs."
I stop myself from asking the obvious question, since a moment's reflection makes it clear he does not mean actual dogs, but frankfurters—hot dogs. My brain goes extra literal when I am nervous.
"I would welcome a bean burger, if it is not too much additional trouble for you. Red meat is hard on my digestivesystem.” I smile at him. "Thank you for providing options. It is most thoughtful of you."
He shares Riley's propensity for dazzling grins, although his does not make my heart flutter. "Ember can get you a drink while I toss that on for you. Bro, you want a beer?"
Riley glances at me, for some reason. "I gotta drive, man. Better not."
I touch his arm. "Have a beer with your brother, Riley. I believe I can operate your vehicle, should the need arise. I shall abstain in solidarity with Ember."
He looks at me for a moment, and I cannot read his emotions on his face. "You sure? It's not a big deal."
"Nor for me," I say. It occurs to me that he may feel self-conscious about alcohol intake and vehicle operation, considering his recent revelation; I lean close and murmur for his ears only. "I feel comfortable trusting your judgment in this matter."
He ducks his head, and I hear him swallow hard. "You sayin' that means a lot." To Felix, then: "Maybe one. Thanks."
I notice neither Felix nor Ember bothers to hide their intense curiosity regarding our aside. It is his story to tell, however, not mine, so I opt to ignore their curiosity.
Felix twists the top off a bottle of beer, hands it to Riley, and claps him on the back. "Come see the backyard, man. You girls good in here?"
Ember smiles at me. "Oh, I think we'll get along alright."
Riley bumps my hip with his. "You okay with that? Me going outside while you stay in here and talk to Ember?"
"Yes. As she said, we will get along just fine." I give his shoulder a gentle nudge. "Go."
He follows his brother through a sliding glass door to an expansive deck overlooking a gently sloping yard leading to thedense, shadowed woods. A large doe ambles along the edge of the yard, ears alert.
Ember waddles into the kitchen. "Iced tea? Soda? Still water? Sparkling water?"
"Sparkling would be delightful, Ember, thank you very much."
She produces two cans of flavored, sparkling water. But rather than merely handing me the can, she rummages in a cabinet and comes out with a pair of wine goblets. She adds ice, pours in the water, and then adds a small palmful of frozen berries, plunking a stainless steel straw into each and giving them a swirl.
Handing me one with a smile, she gestures for me to follow her into the kitchen, where there is a cozy breakfast nook built into a corner, complete with a padded bench seat and bumped-out windows. "Life is too short to drink boring shit."
I take a sip and hum my approval. "This is delicious and most refreshing," I tell her. "And I quite agree. A beverage need not contain alcohol to be interesting."
"Cheers," she says, extending her goblet toward mine.
"Afya!" I say in response, clinking my goblet against hers.
"What's that?"
"Oh, it is Swahili. It means 'health'."
"Swahili, hmm?"
