And I Would Walk Five-Hundred Miles
The Look In Your Eyes
“Wow,” Micah said as we entered the living room.
“Ha! What so shocking?” I smiled softly at his shocked look on his face.
“It looks like Andy Warhol threw up in your living room.”
I started to laugh and gave him a hug. He hadn’t changed a bit.
“I wonder: if Andy Warhol threw up, would his vomit be Technicolor?”
He looked at me. “No, Lydia, it’s wouldn’t.”
“I was kidding!”
“Sure…”
He raised his eyebrow at me and I laughed harder.
“Come on, put your stuff down. You’ll be sleeping on the couch, but it pulls out into a bed, so you don’t have to worry about being crammed for space. Your sheets and towels and such are right there,” I pointed to the corner of the living room.
“Where’s the bathroom,” he asked as he put down his things, “I really have to piss.”
“Oh how eloquent. Well,” I said, walking towards my room, “It’s in here.”
“Great. Hold on one second.”
With that, he walked into the bathroom. I took that as my cue to go to the kitchen and start getting the food ready. He looked so… bright and lonely. I know it’s an oxymoron, but it was true. He didn’t have Bella anymore, and he seemed happier. He had never kissed my forehead, held my hand. It was strange, but I liked it.
I started to pull things out of the frige: chicken, milk, eggs, peppers, etc.
“So, what’s on the menu?”
“Fajitas and cake”
“Wow. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.”
He paused for a while. We just stood there in silence while I mixed cream cheese and condensed milk.
“It’s strange- seeing you here, in front of me. I haven’t talked to you in person in four months. You haven’t changed a bit though,” he smiled and continued, “You still have that same look in you eyes.”
“Look?”
He watched me for a few seconds and I greased a pan and poured the cream cheese mixture inside.
“Yeah, you always had that look in your eyes. The one that says you’re thinking about something, and it’s plaguing you.”
I sighed and started to mix the cake batter.
“Plaguing?”
“Yeah, like something’s bothering you.”
“Sorry, should I be smiling like a crest toothpaste commercial?”
“No. Sorry if I offended you. What I meant to say was that you always look pensive.”
“Sure…”
“You look nice.”
“What?”
“I said, you look nice.”
“I know what you said; it just seems so random.”
“But it’s true.”
I poured the cake batter into the pan with the cheese mixture and put it in the oven.
“Let’s sit down. This thing takes a while to cook, and the fajitas are quick.”
He followed me down to the couch and took a seat.
“Ha! What so shocking?” I smiled softly at his shocked look on his face.
“It looks like Andy Warhol threw up in your living room.”
I started to laugh and gave him a hug. He hadn’t changed a bit.
“I wonder: if Andy Warhol threw up, would his vomit be Technicolor?”
He looked at me. “No, Lydia, it’s wouldn’t.”
“I was kidding!”
“Sure…”
He raised his eyebrow at me and I laughed harder.
“Come on, put your stuff down. You’ll be sleeping on the couch, but it pulls out into a bed, so you don’t have to worry about being crammed for space. Your sheets and towels and such are right there,” I pointed to the corner of the living room.
“Where’s the bathroom,” he asked as he put down his things, “I really have to piss.”
“Oh how eloquent. Well,” I said, walking towards my room, “It’s in here.”
“Great. Hold on one second.”
With that, he walked into the bathroom. I took that as my cue to go to the kitchen and start getting the food ready. He looked so… bright and lonely. I know it’s an oxymoron, but it was true. He didn’t have Bella anymore, and he seemed happier. He had never kissed my forehead, held my hand. It was strange, but I liked it.
I started to pull things out of the frige: chicken, milk, eggs, peppers, etc.
“So, what’s on the menu?”
“Fajitas and cake”
“Wow. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.”
He paused for a while. We just stood there in silence while I mixed cream cheese and condensed milk.
“It’s strange- seeing you here, in front of me. I haven’t talked to you in person in four months. You haven’t changed a bit though,” he smiled and continued, “You still have that same look in you eyes.”
“Look?”
He watched me for a few seconds and I greased a pan and poured the cream cheese mixture inside.
“Yeah, you always had that look in your eyes. The one that says you’re thinking about something, and it’s plaguing you.”
I sighed and started to mix the cake batter.
“Plaguing?”
“Yeah, like something’s bothering you.”
“Sorry, should I be smiling like a crest toothpaste commercial?”
“No. Sorry if I offended you. What I meant to say was that you always look pensive.”
“Sure…”
“You look nice.”
“What?”
“I said, you look nice.”
“I know what you said; it just seems so random.”
“But it’s true.”
I poured the cake batter into the pan with the cheese mixture and put it in the oven.
“Let’s sit down. This thing takes a while to cook, and the fajitas are quick.”
He followed me down to the couch and took a seat.
♠ ♠ ♠
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