He Loves Me Not (Bunch-A-Blooms 1)

“I was embarrassed and unsure how to tell you. It was all so strange and new … and hell, kind of gross.”

“And now look at us. I buy your feminine products without batting an eyelash.”

She rolled her eyes.

Kiwanis Park came into view, and they rushed to the swings, which had always been their favorite by far.

He held the chains as she sank down onto the red seat. As he walked back and let her go, pushing her forward as she pumped her legs, he saw the ghost of the little girl inside the woman. She tilted her head back as the wind blew her hair and bliss covered her face. He continued to push her and the years melted away. He’d always fancied himself as her protector, and to a lesser extent Melinda and Lois’s. They were the sisters he never had, but she was always special. He’d fought playground bullies, ignored attractive girls who treated her poorly, and held her when some jerk broke her heart. We should’ve seen this coming.

The tune “Do Your Ears Hang Low” played.

“No way. Ice cream?”

She peered over her shoulder and laughed at the sight of Olive driving up in her white two door with the song blaring. She got out of the car and waved a strawberry crunch bar, and an orange sherbet Flintstone Push-up pop. Their favorite growing up. He slowed her swing down, and she rested her head back against his chest.

“You got a new gig, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Today I’m the ice cream woman,” Olive said.

“You’ve outdone yourself. No birthday celebration will ever top this now,” Petunia stated as Olive walked away with a wink and a wave. She opened the package and took a bite out of the crust.

All this time and she still dismantles the thing first before she eats the core. He took a seat on the swing beside her and worked on his push pop. Halfway through, they switched.

“Best of both worlds,” she said.

“Mmm hmm.” Once they were finished, he took her wrapper. “Look under your swing. I’ll take this to the trash.” He pitched the empty containers and came back to find her unwrapping the small box he’d taped there earlier and had Olive guard. It took a lot of coordination to pull this off.

“Dude, did you make this yourself?” she asked, holding up the two bracelets that spelled out ‘Best Friend’ in multicolored square beads. The bracelets themselves were a turquoise and pink, two of their favorite shades combined.

“I did.”

She jumped from the swing and wrapped her arms around his waist. There was a neediness in her grip he didn’t understand.

He cupped the back of her head. “If I knew you’d like it that much, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

She gave a half laugh. “This is incredible. We are amazing. All this history. I needed this more than you know.”

Ducking down, he met her gaze. “You okay?”

“I am. What’s next?”

“Look in the box and find out.” Removing the box from her purse, she pulled the fourth envelope out.

They made a trip to their favorite pizza place, the Kenwood Mall—where they’d wasted hours of their time at—and then she opened the final destination card.

“Because this story has no end, we must return to where we first began.” She frowned. “What do you mean by began?”

“Where we were born.”

“Christ Hospital?”

“That’s the one,” he said.

His palms slicked with sweat as he drove, and his mouth went dry. He focused all his attention on the road as he maneuvered his car on the highway. The nineties station kept them immersed in the past. “Have You Ever Loved Someone” by Brandy came on, and he couldn’t tell if it was a sign of success or a failure to come. Finally, he exited the highway and made the final leg of the journey. Parking the car, he took a deep breath. The velvet box all but burned a hole in his pocket as he stepped out. He took her hand, and they walked from the parking lot to the atrium inside the hospital.

“They’ve changed this place a lot since we were born, so I thought this was a happy medium.”

He held her hand. “The whole point of today was to remember everything we’ve been through. There was never a time in my memory where you weren’t right there beside me, and I can’t handle the thought of there ever being one.”