“Oh, that’s right. You’re ten years old.”
“Very funny,” she retorted.
Isaac cupped his cold hands over her cheeks and kissed her nose. “You look cute today. I like your hair.”
Elly nuzzled his nose. “Thanks.”
“Hey, I was wondering if you would want come see my band play tomorrow night. We’re playing at the Paradox Club downtown.”
Elly groaned inwardly. Many, many nights in the past two months were spent hanging out with Isaac’s band, in smoke-filled living rooms, listening to endless riffs on the guitar and Tifah and Gene discussing jaded idealism while insulting local bands. Elly was going to bed later than 1am most nights, and while the long kiss that Isaac planted on her at the end of the night was well worth it, the mornings were rough. Also, Cadbury was in a constant state of passive aggression, leaving secret “presents” behind the dressers and in Elly’s shoes. Another band night…ugh…the thought made her cringe.
Elly ran her fingers lightly over his stubbly chin. “How about we go out to dinner before your band plays and then maybe you can call me afterwards?”
“Awww...” Isaac suddenly looked crestfallen, like a child who had his new truck taken away. “I wanted you to come. I’m singing a song that was inspired by you, babe.”
Babe, thought Elly to herself. Babe, like the pig. Fantastic. Still, her brain buzzed with the idea that someone had written a song for her. That was so romantic, in an 8th grade kind of way.
“Okay, I’ll go. But I have to be in bed by midnight. I am not a night person.”
Isaac winked at her. “You aren’t really a morning person either, just so you know. You’re kind of scary before 10 am. Like a monster. Like a really cute, terrifying monster.”
Elly laughed and lightly swatted his shoulder. “Why am I dating you again?” she asked, pulling his arms around her.
Thirty minutes and many kisses later, Elly entered the gelato bar down the street from the store carrying a light green glass vase full of sunflowers. As a hunky Italian man seated her at the table, Elly waited excitedly for Kim and pondered her gelato choices, staring at the voluptuous peaks of multi-colored cream. Between Kim’s pregnancy, a very full wedding season, and Elly’s late night jam sessions with Isaac, they hadn’t been able to see each other as much as they would have liked. Their occasional gelato fixes were the highlight of Elly’s week.
Through the wavy glass, Elly saw a large figure waddle past the shop, stop, come back and head inside. She stood as Kim huffed around the corner. She looked…awful. Her normally long and ethereal hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and her bangs were plastered against her forehead, winging out in every direction. Kim always projected an impeccable sense of fashion – it was thoughtless perfection, a look that turned heads and inspired others, but the only word Elly could think of today was “frumpy.” Kim donned a bright orange top and a long, shapeless khaki maternity skirt with last season’s Ugg boots poking out of the bottom. Her belly, round and glorious, preceded her around corners and bumped into the table.
She dropped her shopping bags in front of Elly and sighed loudly. “I just walked a mile dragging these heavy bags full of overpriced stuffed animals, about five strangers molested my belly without permission, and I keep farting and having no control over it.” She collapsed into her chair. “I’m huge. I see people looking at me, talking about how large I am. Elly, I know it. I’m like a walking whale. A walking whale wearing bright orange.”
Elly gulped some water. “Yeah, that shirt was maybe was not a great choice for today.”
Kim’s face fell into devastation. Elly instantly regretted her words. “Oh, sweetie, that was totally a joke. I’m sorry. You’re always gorgeous, Kim, you’re glowing! Now you just know what it’s like to be an average person who doesn’t look like a supermodel.”
Kim wiped her hair off her forehead. “It kind of sucks. You know, normally that would have been funny, but I’m so sensitive lately. Everything offends me, or makes me cry or gives me mania. I’m a total nutcase.” She rested her hand over her swelled belly. “Is this what fat people feel like?” she asked no one in particular.
“Um, yes. Yes it is,” said Elly, laughing.
Kim rolled her eyes. “Stop. You’re just sexy plump. Go get me two gelatos, you’re buying. This baby is taking all my energy, my thoughts, and my ability to control my bowel functions. I deserve a free cup of mango.”
Elly laughed at her dear friend. “You do.”
The next two hours passed quickly as they sampled a handful of flavors. Kim had regained her positive glow, endlessly amused by Elly’s retelling of the romantic Hermann trip.