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“Then this is for you. Please, sign here.”
I take the package a little reluctantly as I don’t really remember placing an order, but before I can say anything else, the man has already disappeared down the steps of my apartment building.
After I close the door, I carefully balance the package using only my right hand. It’s been two weeks since I broke my arm, and I’m finally starting to get the hang of doing things right-handed. Maybe I should continue to train myself to do this … I’ve heard life is a lot easier as a right-handed person.
I walk over to the kitchen table and set down the package. The tape comes off in a quick motion, revealing the contents inside.
For a few moments, the apartment becomes quiet as a tomb as I process what I’m seeing. I dip my right hand into the box and sift through what looks like hundreds of lip balms. Cherry lip balms.
But … how is this possible?
Who would’ve remembered my obsession with these…
Did Evan send these to me?
My heart starts to pound inside my chest and my breathing is ragged now.
There are so many cherry lip balms inside that I can smell the aroma through the plastic. I’m beyond overwhelmed—I feel caught in a landslide, all my emotions cascading down at the same time, almost choking me.
I reach for one of the small tubes, open it, and apply the lip balm.
Immediately, the memories start flooding my mind as if I’ve been given a shot of a remembrance potion.
Fenway. September weather and the yellow leaves. The sun behind me, warming my hair. A tall, lanky boy with dazzling green eyes and short, curly hair. He’s all alone and says he forgot his lunch at home. I give him half of mine. He’s cute but older than me. We should be friends. I put on the Burt’s Bees cherry chapstick. I know he’s watching me closely. Does he think I’m pretty?
I open my eyes, and I’m back in my apartment. The taste of cherries is on my lips now and, somehow, I equate it with Evan. Even though we’ve never kissed.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he answers after the second ring.
“It’s going … incredible. Well, apart from my broken arm, but that’s not the point. Evan, I just got the most amazing, wonderful, out-of-this-world gift. Was it from you?”
“Well, what did you get, Dolly?” he teases me, but I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s smiling.
“Umm, about a million Burt’s Bees cherry lip balms!”
“Not a million. Only a hundred,” he says.
“Only a hundred? Only? Who does something like this, Evan? I’m stunned. I don’t even know. This is … my heart is so full right now, I feel like I’m about to cry. In a good way!” I rush to add, so that he doesn’t worry or misunderstand me.
“I’m so happy you like it. So happy—”
“I do! I love it! But what came over you to do something like this? Wait a minute! Is this your way of telling me that my lips are chapped?”
He laughs into the telephone and it might be the most wonderful sound I’ve ever heard.
“Your lips are perfect, Emmy. Perfect. No, I just … I was thinking about the day we met. Do you remember? Seventeen years ago. You were putting on that very lip balm because you—”
“Wanted to start wearing red lipstick but wasn’t allowed to!” we both exclaim at the same time, amusing ourselves.
“That’s right! Well, you were eleven, after all!” he tells me.
“There’s no age requirement for wearing red lipstick. It’s a classic!” I retort.
“You know best, Emmy. Anyway, I guess I just … got nostalgic, and decided to surprise you a little.”
“A little? You surprised the heart out of me. This is such a thoughtful gift! I mean it.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I hoped it might cheer you up after your broken arm and all.”
