A Five-Minute Life

“Oh, sorry. I’m fine,” she said. “No, actually, I’m not fine. This is my first day on the job and my boss wants me to make the specials board and I have, like, the worst handwriting ever. I’m going to get fired, because if I can’t even do this…?”

Thea took the written menu from the sidewalk. “This is what needs to be on here?”

“Yeah, but it needs to be ‘pretty’ and ‘eye-catching’ and I can barely make it legible.”

“I can help,” Thea said. “We’re on vacation here and I haven’t painted or drawn something in days. I’m about ready to burst.”

The waitress sniffed and looked up at me, then back to Thea. “No, you’re on vacation. You don’t need to waste your time on this. I’ll… figure it out.”

“We have time.” Thea looked up at me. “Don’t we, Jimmy?”

“You’re asking me?” I said with a laugh. “Do your thing, baby.”

Thea cocked a brow but her cheeks went pink. “Baby, eh?” She leaned into the waitress. “We’re having a big week,” she said in confidential tones. Then she clapped her hands together. “Okay, gimme that chalk, and I’ll whip something up for you.”

The waitress—her name was Paula—and I watched as Thea used the colored chalks to write up the restaurant specials in that same precise handwriting she’d used to make her word chains. She framed it with pink and blue flowers bursting from the corners and green vines that curled and trailed down the sides.

“Holy shit, that’s beautiful,” Paula said. “You’ve even added shading. And depth. With chalk. Amazing. But… hell, they’re going to want me to do this every week.”

“Tell them it was a one-time deal. But you can erase the specials as they change and leave the flowers.”

“Thank you,” Paula said, hugging her. “Thank you so much. You saved my ass.”

“Thank you,” she said to Paula. “That should hold me for the rest of the trip.”

Thea wiped her chalky hands on her shorts, promptly covering them in pink and green, and we continued down the street.

After a minute, Thea glanced up at me. “Baby?”

“If you don’t like it, I won’t use it,” I said. “It just slipped out.”

“I like it,” Thea said. “I went warm all over when you said it. It makes me feel taken care of. Like I’m still myself, but I’m yours too.”

“You are yourself,” I said

, pulling her to me. “You are always one hundred percent yourself. I could see it from the moment I met you in front of that painting. It’s what I…” I stopped, that nameless feeling starting to become not-so-nameless. “It’s what attracted me to you most.”

“You and your perfect words.” Thea sighed.

Her eyes fell shut as she leaned in to kiss me, soft and sweet, then reached for her backpack.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m calling Jonathan.”

“Reporting back already?” I asked and slung my arm around her neck as we kept walking. “How’d I do?”

Thea grinned. “A-plus, baby.”

Chapter 32

Jim

We found a little dive bar near the tattoo shop and took a small booth in the back. Loud rock music filled the small, dark space, blaring from speakers tucked in the corners.

“I just sent Delia the pic Nicholas took of our ink,” Thea said. “I’m trying not to be in-your-face about it, but she’s always hated tattoos.”

“Too late now,” I said, trying not to be smug myself. I nodded toward the bar. “Drink?”