Done Adulting Vol. 1 Ch. 130

“You look fine,” Amanda assured him.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, for the third time.”

“You really can’t tell?” Amanda sighed and humored him, motioning for him to turn around.

“I can’t tell,” she lied, hoping that she only could because she knew what he was wearing. “And like I said, I’ll be as discreet as I can be. Mom, too. How does your tummy feel?”

“Empty.”

“Ya wanna eat something?” He wasn’t sure if he did or not. “C’mon,” Amanda decided for him, “I’ll make you some cinnamon and sugar toast.” He followed her to the kitchen and climbed into his chair with so many thoughts in his head he couldn’t have begun to unpack the emotions he was experiencing.

Amanda kept an eye on him as she put a piece of bread in the toaster oven and watched it brown. The ding of the timer made Jamie jump. Amanda exhaled; he was making her nervous.

She finished his breakfast and put it on the table in front of him along with a glass of regular milk. While he nibbled, Amanda planted her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand.

“I think we still have one of the diazepam pens from when they released you from the hospital. Say the word, and we can just render you unconscious.”

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

Becky walked into the kitchen. “It’s understandable,” she said. “I’ve been nervous sometimes when I haven’t seen someone in a long time.”

“Why don’t you tell us about your favorite time with her,” Amanda suggested, hoping bringing up a happy memory would bring the good things to the forefront of his mind. Jamie took a bite of his toast.

The memory that came happened a week before his departure. He’d stopped working and didn’t have much to do, so she’d taken a day off and dragged him on an urban hike through a part of the city he didn’t go to much. It turned into a celebration of gastronomic hedonism. They stopped first in a pastry shop and had coffee and a croissant with Nutella, his favorite breakfast. She was skeptical until she took a bite, and he laughed at her suddenly sunny enthusiasm, and when they were done he dipped a napkin in his water glass and wiped the chocolate off her chin.

When they left, she led him off the main street and through neighborhoods of stately old homes built in the distinctive brick their city was mostly made of. That color brick was valuable now; the quarry the material came from had been exhausted before the city was even finished growing. Giant hickory and oak trees lined the sidewalk, and waist-high, black iron fences made each home look like a manner house.

Deep in the neighborhood was a park, and surrounding the park that day were food trucks. A band played in the central gazebo while people came and went on their lunch hour, some, like the two of them, staying for longer and enjoying the first mild summer day they’d had in weeks. When the band packed up, they left and headed toward the beach.

It took most of the afternoon to get there, and they stopped half way for gelato, the first time Jamie ever had it, and he marveled at the array of colors and flavors. They sat at a table on the sidewalk and took turns licking from each other’s cones. Jamie went back inside and got more to go before they resumed their walk.

When they at last reached the ocean, they sat at a beachside bar and had a frozen cocktail while they watched surfers and tourists and kids and teens pass back and forth. They people watched hand in hand, eventually ordering a meal to share, and when the sun started to set and the beach grew empty, they walked out onto the sand and followed the surf north away from the brightest lights of the city until they were as alone as they could get, and Cheryl took a blanket from their pack to spread on the sand.

Tired from the day’s walk, they stripped to their bathing suits and walked into the surf until they were surrounded by the inky darkness of the water lapping against their chests. Cheryl plunged beneath a breaking wave, and he’d followed after her, reaching into the dark and playfully grabbing at her ankle. They raced back toward the shore slowly, each of them pulling at the other for advantage until the water was too shallow to swim, coming to their feet against the sand and embracing with the night sky moon outshining the lights that backlit their bodies.

After they’d redressed, they held hands back to a boardwalk, not sure where they were, and got a Lyft back to her home, where Eric spent the night with her in his arms.

That was the story he told them. Reflecting on it, it seemed now like his best day on Earth, and he wasn’t sure if anything since had surpassed it. He sighed. Becky reached out and took his hands.

“I think you’re gonna have a great day, Jamie.”

The doorbell rang.