Gold Digger – Story 27 – WE DID IT
I walked into Sara’s kitchen and three faces turned toward me and I knew immediately that I wasn’t going to get to decide how this conversation started.
“Well,” Zoya said.
“Don’t,” I said.
“You look different,” Sara said.
“I don’t look different.”
“You’re walking different,” Zoya said.
I sat down.
“I’m not walking different.”
“You came through that door like someone who had a very good weekend.”
“I had a good weekend.”
“Mila.” Zoya put her glass down. “How good?”
Sara poured wine.
Slid it across the table.
I took a long sip.
They waited.
Claire had her phone face down and her full attention on me which from Claire is the equivalent of anyone else canceling their entire week.
“Fine,” I said.
Zoya’s hands came up immediately.
She held them apart.
About average, I would say.
Then she raised an eyebrow.
I moved her hands.
Wider.
Zoya knocked her water glass directly off the table.
Sara caught it.
Barely.
“MILA.”
“You asked.”
“I didn’t ask I gestured -“
“Same thing.”
Claire was smiling.
Actually smiling.
I have seen Claire smile approximately four times in three years and twice were at quarterly results.
“Well,” Claire said.
“Well,” I agreed.
“Details,” Zoya said. “I need details. Not those details – well, those details too – but other details. Was he -“
“He was good,” I said.
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Good like -“
“Good like I stayed,” I said.
Silence.
Zoya looked at Sara.
Sara looked at Zoya.
“She stayed,” Sara said quietly.
“She stayed,” Zoya confirmed.
Because I don’t stay.
Everyone in this kitchen knows I don’t stay.
I leave before the coffee. I leave while they’re still asleep. I leave because staying feels like something I don’t have a column for.
I stayed.
“Was there -” Zoya started.
“Zoya.”
“I’m just asking if there was a second -“
“There was a second,” I said.
Zoya sat back.
Put her hand on her chest.
“I need a moment,” she said.
“Take your time.”
“And a third?”
I looked at my wine.
“We were there for two nights,” I said.
Zoya stood up.
Sat back down.
Stood up again.
Sara pulled her back into her chair.
Claire, who had been quiet through all of this with the expression of someone watching a successful merger close, asked:
“And how do you feel?”
The kitchen went quiet.
The real question.
The one underneath all of Zoya’s gesturing and Sara’s smiling and the water glass that was now slightly less full.
I thought about the weekend.
The walks. The coffee exactly right. The hand at the crossing. The quiet laugh.
The staying.
“Good,” I said.
Zoya opened her mouth.
“Not soup good,” I said. “The other kind.”
She closed it.
Sara squeezed my hand.
I got home and opened the spreadsheet.
Deleted acquisition: active.
Typed: relationship.
Looked at it for a long time.
Left it.
Spreadsheet status:
Adam → relationship: active. she stayed. first time.
Richard → pending. complicated.
Noah → friend zone. confirmed.
D → [row does not exist]
Zoya gestured. I moved her hands wider. she knocked the water over. worth it. – Mila