Along the Way

Her name is Dahlia. She is an only child. Her father is distant and her mother is vein.
She seems lonely when she isn't smiling.
We talk about everything but politics. She says she's sick to death of them, and they only cause turmoil.
She likes using fancy words.
When she was eight, she broke her arm trying to fly. Her mother sent her to a psychologist.
She thinks everyone is good for something. Even me.

The next several weeks went by in a sort of haze. I decided it was happiness. Dahlia loves picnics.
Even in the cold, it feels like spring. I memorize moments and she takes pictures.
Beautiful photographs that capture every detail. But mostly her smile.

She finds me at my spot, on my blankets. She's offered to rent me a room, but I won't let her.
I think her father is rich, but she doesn't mention money.
She walks up with two coffees and she carries a bag of warm donuts by her teeth.

"what shall we do today, sir?" she asks as she sits next to me.
I savor the food and smile. "I'm sure you have something in mind."
"well.. maybe." Before I can ask her what that is, she takes my hand and away we go.
Down the street and across the walk, weaving our way through people.

She hails a taxi. "Whats this?" I enquire. We never rode in cars on our adventures.
"Just wait." she said as she climbed into the idled vehicle.

"1512 willow street, please." She beamed.
I became nervous. What was there on willow street? Hopefully no hands to shake or names to remember. I had become quite comfortable with just the two of us. Anyone else would see right away that my jeans were ripped and my sneakers worn. I anticipated dirty looks and disappointment.

Then the driver stopped in front of a small but beautiful gray house.
Dahlia's smile was even brighter than usual. She stepped out of the taxi and gave the driver more than what was due.
"Thanks, ma'am." He said before he drove away.

She grabbed my hand again and we walked right up to the front door. She pulled a key out of her satchel and opened the door as if she had done it a thousand times.

"welcome home, Shane."

I couldn't say anything. I couldn't breathe.
I walked inside and gaped like a child. In awe of what I saw.

Photos on the walls. Ours. Framed and there. Everything was furnished.
I drifted from one room to the next.
Couches and dressers, beds and night stands.
A kitchen full of food.
A mirror that showed me the same boy who smiled in the pictures along the walls.
A boy I didn't recognize.

Dahlia stood behind me, hands in her pockets. She seemed proud of this world she had created.
I held back the churning waves of emotion that threatened to overcome me.
The gratitude and the excitement. The relief.
"why?" I asked.

"Because." she tilted her head and smiled. "You remind me of how the world should be."
Funny. I thought the same of her.