Page 125 of New Growth
“Exactly,” he replied firmly.
“Well, do you wanna fall in love?” I pushed.
He let out a soft exhale. “I want happiness. I want peace. The person who’s meant for me will bring both.”
I swallowed, trying to push the unease aside. “Wow, you’re really dodging questions tonight.”
He chuckled, and I could hear the softness in his tone as he turned to face me. “Well, let me put it this way. I want love. But I want it the right way. The real kind. I’m not gonna force it. When she’s ready to fall, I’ll catch her. Okay? That answer your question?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if it did.
“Y-Yes.”
“Good. Now go to sleep,” he said, his voice settling into a warmth that made me want to lean into him.
“Hold me,” I commanded.
He didn’t say anything, but his arm slipped around me, pulling me close. Our fingers strum against each other for a while before they finally settle and interlock.
“Good night, Peanut.”
Grief.
Somelossesneverfade.
They settle inside you, carved out where the love used to be and took up space. Some days, I carried it easily, but today, it was crushing me. I spent the morning in silence with my father’s old records playing softly in the background. Every year since his passing, I have taken this day for myself. But this year, I couldn’t just sit still.
So I baked.
Flour dusted the counter, and there were three failed batches in the trash before I got the consistency right.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I was exhausted. A knock at the door startled me.
I looked at the clock:4:36 p.m.
Esther left me alone to grieve today at my request and wouldn’t be home until after seven. El had a project he was working on all weekend, so we barely talked.
I hadn’t expected anyone else.
Dragging myself out of the kitchen, I slowly made my way over to the door, hesitating before opening it. Shockingly, El stood there, holding something wrapped in brown paper.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey. I thought you were busy.” I blinked at him. “What are you doing here?”
He looked me over like he was analyzing my mood. “I was. But I had to check on you.” Then he held up the package. “And… I brought you something.”
Curiosity tugged at me as I stepped aside, letting him in.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as I followed him back to the kitchen.
I just shrugged. “Want one?”
He leaned over the tray I offered, then looked around at all the opened jars of peanut butter and flour. “Are those… peanut butter cookies?”
I nodded.
“But you’re allergic to peanuts, Peanut.”
