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For a moment, watching him make pancakes and eggs was like revisiting our first time in the past.
The awkward silence that descended over us while we ate made it clear that we weren’t.
“Why did you really leave me, Dahlia?” He sets down a fork. “I deserve an answer.”
“I told you.”
“I want a real fucking honest answer.”
“I’d never be able to give you what you wanted. Well. there was a high chance of that anyway.”
“What part of ‘I wanted you’ are you still struggling to comprehend after all this time?”
“I wanted you, too, but?—”
“There is no ‘but.’” He shook his head. “I got carried away with you hours ago.”
“So, the sex didn’t mean anything to you?”
“I need a real answer before I can determine that.”
“Then let me give it to you…” I croaked. “Please just listen…”
FINAL FROST
BACK THEN
Dahlia,
I’m starting to think you like gardening a lot more than you claim. This is the third weekend you’ve turned down a breakfast with me because the magnolias “desperately need you.” :-)
Something you want to finally admit to me?
See you tonight.
Forever Writing You,
Everett
Even though Everett and I text and call each other nonstop, he goes out of his way to send me a new letter every weekend.
They always arrive sealed with a bright blue wax seal, but this one was torn open and there are mulch-prints all over the card.
“Mommm!” I rush down the steps, waving Everett’s latest letter. “Mommm!”
“Yes, Dahlia?” She yells from the kitchen.
“Why did you open my latest letter?”
“I didn’t.” She looks up at me. “I’ve never done that at all.”
“Then why is the wax seal broken?”
“Because I opened it.” Aunt Gertrude shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t hiding a baby from us.”
“A what?”
“You’ve been getting round lately.” She poked my stomach with a pen. “But I guess it’s just too many potatoes. I won’t be cooking those anymore for a while.”
