“Oh, I’ll just share with you,” she said absently.
She dove in, all but licking the inside of the bowl when the last of the couscous was gone. She thought she set a new record for devouring food and wondered if she wouldn’t have indigestion in a few minutes. And then the dense fog that clouded her brain suddenly lifted. She stared ahead at the bookshelf—all the books. Even more records. She searched for the words, what she said to him next, after she shoveled all the food into her mouth.
“I’m sorry I didn’t share.” She turned to him, and he saw the light in her eyes—recognition of a past event, an important one, that only the two of them could ever understand.
He plucked the bowl from her hand and tossed it on the coffee table. Then he reached for her and pulled her gently onto his lap. She bent her head just like before, tasting the garlic on her tongue and not wanting to offend him with her breath. She hid her face behind a curtain of golden hair that had fallen forward.
“First of all, I wanted you to eat the whole thing. I didn’t expect you to share. Second, you are far better at many things than I am Cadence, so stop worrying about the age difference.”
She giggled but kept her head bent.
“Third, say my name.”
She addressed his lap. “First, it was rude to not offer even if I didn’t wanna share. Second, I have to worry about the age difference because it’s a big one. You’re ten years older than me!” She paused and looked at his face. “Third, Mark.”
He didn’t wait for permission. He planned to ask but realized that’d take too long. He crushed his lips to hers. She tried to draw back, but he trapped her head in his hand, holding her there on his lap while he sought her tongue, tasting the biting sweetness of the garlic. He couldn’t wait for it to travel down, down through her body to rest between her legs. He wanted to taste it there, too.
“I love you,” he said into her mouth.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly.
“I love you, too,” she said against his lips.
“I . . . I wanna love you again,” he whispered.
She nodded, and he stood up, carrying her to the bedroom where he loved her all afternoon. The words would come eventually, but in the next crucial days, they needed the physical connection—the physical renewal. They would heal each other with their hands and mouths first. Talking could wait.
“The roller rink?” Cadence asked, looking at the bright neon sign through the windshield.
Mark grinned. “Lame apology?”
“Apology for what? Keeping a huge secret or spanking the hell out of me when I got mad at you about it?” Cadence asked.
Mark sighed pleasantly. “Oh, Cadence. How I love you.”
She giggled. “I can’t roller skate. I mean, I’ve never tried. Never been to the rink. They went out of fashion when I was coming up.”
“Then you missed out, my friend,” Mark said. “Skating is the bomb.”
Cadence laughed. “That’s so nineties.”
“You better believe it.” Mark winked at her before getting out. Cadence waited for him to walk around the car and open her door. That took some getting used to when they first started dating. She couldn’t understand the big deal with opening the door herself.
“Will you just let me be a man?” Mark had said, and from then on, she waited.
“I’m nervous!” she squealed when they walked in.
It was exactly as Mark remembered—frozen in time. Confetti carpet and that smell of something old, worn, and well-loved. The music blasted from the speakers lining the walls and cluttered together in the four corners of the building. God, he hoped they’d get to play Four Corners. He won one time when he was in middle school—free skate day and rental. Oh yeah, and a Coke as well.
He paid for their tickets, then grabbed Cadence’s hand and led her to the skate rental counter. A stereotypical teen with acne-marred skin and a bad attitude stared at them, waiting.
“How’s it going, man?” Mark asked.
“What size?” the boy replied.
“I need a size 12 in speed skates. My girl here needs a 5.5 in regulars,” Mark replied. “Been at it a while today?”
“I don’t know,” the boy mumbled. He turned around and scanned his inventory. “Dude, I don’t have a 5.5. I only have a 6.”
“Oh, well,” Cadence said. Relief was evident in her voice. “I’ll just watch.”
“No way,” Mark replied. “You can wear a size 6.”
“They’ll be too big,” Cadence argued.
“Just try. You’re wearing thick socks, right?”
“No.”
“Well, try. I really wanna get you out there.”
“Why?”
The boy sighed heavily.
“Because I wanna skate with you,” Mark said.
“But I’m terrified,” Cadence replied.
“Dude, I gotta line,” the boy said impatiently.
“Give me the 6’s,” Mark said. He slapped the money on the counter and grabbed the shoes. They sat down on an empty bench and pulled on their skates.
“Mark, I don’t like this,” Cadence said. “I’m gonna fall and hurt myself.”