stroked her head.
Noah returned and wasn’t one bit out of breath. He hoisted Lana onto his shoulder, and I shut the doors to the truck. The truck’s headlights flashed, and a mechanical beep signaled that Noah had locked the doors. He motioned for me to go first, but I felt really self-conscious that my big butt would be waving in his face. When he refused to move until I did, I heaved a big sigh and climbed the stairs. I hoped he liked juicy round ones.
Noah had placed Amy on the sofa when he came back for Lana, so I led him to Lana’s room. He set her on the bed and went to get Amy. When the two girls were lying side-by-side on the bed, I shooed Noah out of the room and proceeded to take off Lana and Amy’s shoes. I wiped Lana’s face down with a wet wipe so she wouldn’t have to wake up with makeup on tomorrow. I tended to Amy the same way, taking my sweet time.
I sat down on the side of the bed, stalling. I was pretty sure I couldn’t handle Noah alone in my apartment with no buffer. My biggest fear was that I would break down in front of him, followed closely by the mortifying image in my head of dragging him to my bedroom.
I listened for the front door but it didn’t open or close. Instead, I heard sounds of life out in the living room. The faint buzz of the refrigerator filled the air momentarily, and I could hear water rush into the kitchen sink.
Finally, past the point of being rude, I took a deep breath, rolled my neck on my shoulders like a fighter ready to start the match, and went out to face my opponent.
He was leaning against the kitchen counter drinking a glass of water. “Do you mind?” he asked, tipping the glass toward me.
I didn’t mind that he was drinking my water or using my glass. I did mind a million other things. I shook my head, walked into the living room, and sat down in my chair, grateful to at least be in my own space.
He came over, almost hesitantly, and I watched with perverse enjoyment as he sat down on the sex sofa. But maybe he didn’t care. He probably had his own sex sofa where he brought the girls he’d strung along for years. I felt a twinge of something like disappointment that I hadn’t even warranted an invitation to Noah’s sex sofa.
He didn’t say anything and neither did I. Instead I stared at his hands and the complicated wristwatch on his arm. I didn’t know anyone who wore a watch. We all kept time by our phones.
Noah’s watch was thick and had multiple dials and faces. I idly wondered if it kept time or helped him travel through time.
“What—” my voice cracked as I broke the silence “—what is it that you want?”
“That’s a loaded question. A lot,” he said after a pause. “For now, though, to be friends again.”
“Were we ever?”
“When I was three years in, I made E-4. It’s this weird position where you aren’t the lowest person on the totem pole anymore, but you don’t have much real responsibility. The goal for most everyone, I guess, is to make E-5, but you only make E-5 if you re-up or if your commitment is longer than four years. The idea was always to get in, get eligible for the GI Bill, and get out,” he paused. I still hadn’t looked at him, but I heard him lift the drink and take a sip.
“Grace, please,” he touched my hand. I realized he had moved to the edge of the sex sofa, and his body was now only inches away from me.
I was being childish, I knew, by refusing to look at him, by pretending I wasn’t paying attention. Of course I was. I hung on every word. I was embarrassed. So I turned my head and stared at his hand, which was still lightly touching mine. It was enough, I guess, because he continued.
“But I enjoyed being in the Corps. Remember the letter that you sent where you explained that you kept going to parties with Lana but you never felt like you fit in, even after years of being with the same kids?” I looked up, surprised he remembered that, and nodded. His eyes were pinned on me, his face serious. I felt his hand tighten on the