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That was my nickname from way back, ‘DM.’ Kelvin and Lea’s dad started calling me that when I turned five, and it just stuck on everyone’s lips.
However, it sounded different hearing it from her. It was not the conventional ‘DM’ I was used to.
Hers was laced with honey and every other deliciousness that made my heart tingle.
We finish our meal and place an order for a second round to relinquish the momentary satisfaction that the first round gave.
“When do you think Kelvin and Laurel will go on with their wedding plans?” She asks me out of the blue.
“Since our parents’ death, they haven’t spoken about their wedding again. Remember, it was just two weeks before the wedding when the accident occurred.”
One thing leaves me struck. That she just spoke about her parents’ death with no sad look or tears swelling in her eyes.
She seems genuinely happy today as opposed to the other days we spent together. This was a superb sign.
“He spoke to me about setting things in motion once the case on your parents’ estate is settled and his head comes back to its right state.”
“I thought as much. Although I feel bad for Laurel. She had already planned out everything, even to the last detail. All she was waiting for was the day.”
There was an obvious hurt in her eyes, for Laurel’s sake. They were two peas in a pod, so Laurel must have shared some of her discomfort with her.
Both of them were friends from NYU before Laurel met Kelvin. After almost seven months of going around in circles, Kelvin summoned the courage to ask her out, and they said the rest is history.
“He already pleaded with her to be patient with him and his healing heart. His hurt for the halt of their wedding mostly even stems from the dissatisfaction she must have felt.”
As if reading my thoughts on her conversation with Laurel, she made me understand the situation between both of them.
“Since the incident, we haven’t really spoken much about her. She just calls regularly to ensure that I am okay, but that’s about it. Although Laurel has never been one to share her feelings quickly. I have also not been the friend who cared to ask. I have allowed my grief to consume my mind, and I have failed to recognize my friend’s feelings.”
Her plight is relatable to mine, as I had faced the same situation with Kelvin. After the incident, it took him quite a while to finally open up to me.
Even after that, he would still withdraw to his shell now and then until I probed further.
“She understands that you’re worse hit than she is and is doing her best to be present. You can surprise her with a call one of these days and check up on her, too.”
“Yeah, that’s a wonderful idea. She’s usually off work on Wednesdays, so I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“I hope she finds comfort in your presence over the phone and miles away.”
“I hope so, too.”
Our second round had been placed before us over twenty minutes ago, but we had not noticed.
She was engrossed in our conversation, while I was more engrossed in her sparkly eyes that reflected the lights.
I called the waiter to pack it up so we could take it away instead. It was already past ten, and we needed to prepare for work early the next day.
We have our meals packed, and we receive extra milkshakes on the house for old times’ sake.
Things like these made customers always return to a particular business every time. The quantity of the gift was immaterial. The thought was what mattered.
On our way back home, we decided to take in the fresh air of Los Angeles instead of the air conditioning from my car. We used to do this when we rode bicycles all around the neighborhood.
She stuck her head out and took in a deep breath that made my ears tingle.
Her hand is close to mine, and I am tempted to take hold of it. She jerks in shock as I do so, and I try to take my hand away, but she holds on.
Being uncomfortable is one feeling I do not want her to experience. I love her, but I don’t want to appear pushy or inconsiderate of her feelings.
