“Did you…invite some friends?” I ask, approaching with
hesitant steps.
Lawrence follows my gaze to the chairs. “Oh that? No, no,
I was just trying to make Ned think I was having some others
come tonight. Didn’t want him to get suspicious. You know.”
A twist of pleasure tightens in my stomach. So we will be
alone.
“What did you tell your parents?” Lawrence asks, pushing a
fresh log onto the fire.
“It was just my stepdad who was home. Frank’s pretty easygoing. I told him I taking a walk.”
Lawrence examines me and smiles. “I like your trousers.
They’re very avant-garde.”
“Not so much in my time,” I say. “Though they are skinnier
jeans than I normally buy.”
“Well, you’re a dish either way.”
The nervous-but-happy feeling crackles inside me again.
“Thanks.”
“Have a seat,” he says, motioning to the chairs.
I sit down and Lawrence takes the chair beside me. We’re
quiet, both mesmerized by the orange glow of the fire. I guess
firstdate awkwardness transcends time. I cross my legs, scraping for some shred of conversation.
“So, are we going to roast some marshmallows?”
Lawrence grins. “Sure. If you want.”
“You know what’s really good is roasted Starburst.”
“Is that a type of marshmallow?”
“No. Starbursts. You know…the candy?”
He gives me a shrug.
I sit up. “Get out! Are Starbursts not invented yet in nineteen
twentyfive?”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“Oh man! That’s just sad. They’re infinitely superior to the
marshmallow, as far as roasting is concerned.”
“What on earth are they?”
“I have to show you. Words can’t really do them justice.”
Lawrence lifts an eyebrow. “I think you might be overselling
them a tad.”
“Okay,” I say, standing. “Now I have to go get some. My
credibility is on the line.”
Back at the house, it takes some ransacking, but I find a pack
tucked in Mom’s “secret” candy stash behind the flour container. I’ll repay her later. I grab some roasting sticks and head to the bonfire again.
“Do you have them?” Lawrence asks.
With dramatic flair, I present the Starbursts. “Ta-da!”
He picks up the slim rectangular pack, looking somewhat
disappointed. “That’s it? It looks like chewing gum.”
I laugh and pat his head. “Oh adorable, nineteen-twenties
Lawrence. You have so much to learn.”
He folds his arms with a smirk. “I’m waiting to be impressed.
You’re stalling.”
“Just wait, just wait. Let the fire do its magic.”
Lawrence watches me as I prepare the stick with two
gleaming, square candies and search for the hottest part of
the coals. Then I begin my time-crafted process of achieving
the perfect caramelization.
“You’re quite intense about this,” he says.
“You’d better believe I am. I take my treats very seriously.”
“I can respect that.”
I give him a sidelong glance. In the soft glow of firelight,
he looks as warm and gorgeous as ever. It seems so strange to
be sitting here with him—a guy from 1925. I shouldn’t think
about it. That’s what we agreed on yesterday. But it’s not the
sort of fact that slips from your mind.
“Okay,” I say, bringing the perfectly roasted Starburst away
from the red embers. “It’s ready.” I present the gooey deliciousness to Lawrence with both hands, formal Asian style. “Be careful. It’s hot.”
With a skeptical eyebrow raised, Lawrence examines the
admittedly strange-looking candy creation. Then he pops it
in his mouth. He winces at the heat and then chews thoughtfully. I watch him, biting a fingernail with anticipation. He chews with unnecessary care. Then swallows.
“Well?” I ask.
“You shouldn’t have let me taste that,” he says. “Now I’m
more determined than ever to travel to your time.”
I laugh. “Starburst pushed you over the edge, huh?”