Straw Shoe

“Lee!” I yell, letting myself into her apartment. “Lee!”

I kick my shoes off at the door- a very Canadian habit that my girlfriend loves to tease me about. She’s not in the kitchen or living room.

“Lee!”

Her bathroom door is shut and I can hear the blow dryer. I’m early to pick her up for her birthday breakfast and I’m sure she won’t be happy to have me magically appear.

I ease the door open and nearly make her drop the blow dryer into the sink. She’s clad in a towel and her hair is still damp.

“Jesus, Adam!” she exclaims as I wrap my arms around her wet torso. “You’re an hour early!”

“I couldn’t wait to tell you,” I bounce on my heels.

“What is it?” she sighs, smiling.

I open my mouth, close it, then open it again. I take a deep breath and I can’t help but smile.

“Stop it,” Lee smacks my chest. “That’s my thing. Canadians are supposed to be nice and stealing isn’t nice.”

I roll my eyes at her stereotyping and grasp her by the shoulders. “Guess what happened this morning in New York?”

She thinks for a millisecond before she’s back in my arms with a little scream.

“You’re back to playing hockey?” Lee pecks my cheek. “No more pouty Adam?”

“I thought you loved my pout,” I let it creep across my face.

She rolls her eyes. “I do. But I like Happy Adam more than Pouty Adam.”

“Fair enough,” I kiss her quickly before she’s pulling away to finish her hair. “Can’t you just go like this?” I wrap my arms around her again. “I like this ensemble.”

“I’m sure you do,” she elbows me lightly. “Go do something. I’ll be ready soon.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Hand-in-hand, we walk down the street in the chilly Boston weather. January had brought plenty of snow with more on the horizon.

“I don’t mind the snow as much as I thought I would,” Lee says, sidestepping an icy patch.

“And why’s that?” I ask, pulling her into my side.

“I’ve got you with me,” she bumps her hip against mine.

“You,” I stop walking and pull her into my chest. “Are very cheesy.”

“And you love it.”

I do. Her words remind me of the last day we spent on the beach. That had been a good day- my favorite from the summer.

We walk a while longer, getting closer to Lee’s favorite childhood diner. Along the way, I stop us again. This time, outside her parents’ restaurant. True to her word and what she had promised them that summer, Lee was working there at the Straw Shoe. But new things were coming for her, or so she said.

“What now?” she complains. “I’m hungry.”

“I never did ask about this,” I point up to the sign. “What it means, I mean.”

“Oh,” Lee shrugs. “It’s from a proverb.”

“I know that,” I roll my eyes. “But what’s the proverb?”

“It’s silly,” she says. “Really, it is.”

“Tell me or no breakfast,” I bargain.

She huffs; acting like it’s a big deal. “Fine,” she draws out the words. “It’s , ‘even the straw shoe has a mate’. Stupid, right?”

“No,” I shake my head and pull her close again.

“No?”

“No,” I reaffirm. “Because I believe it.”

I place my lips on hers and we stand like that for a little while, in each other’s arms.

“Love you,” she says.

“Love you, too, Straw Shoe.”