The Memories of Us

Chapter 4

The feeling after getting out of a nice, hot shower is so underrated. I felt fresh and clean, as if I were a reptile shedding its skin, or a newborn baby just out of the womb. Wait, never mind, babies are nasty after birth, I take that back. After changing into some comfy shorts and an old cross-country tee, I followed the scent of heavenly bacon. I declined the stairs; it was still so odd to see two of my best friends chatting in my kitchen over a repetitive Shania Twain song. The radio on, food cooking, people laughing- this is how my father liked his house: lively.

Turns out Mason and Emily had stopped at the grocery store before coming here and had brought bacon, pancake mix, maple syrup, and an array of fresh fruit. We laughed together as they shared their encounter with Marge and Mary Lu. They were so delighted to see the two back in town. Marge had even promised to bake them a cake-chocolate raspberry, of course, her specialty.

"So, Em, how's dancing with the company? You must be living your dream." I asked with a mouthful of breakfast.

She turned towards me her eyes shone with excitement as she spoke highly of her job. Emily worked in a professional ballet company based in Chicago. Not only did she perform in marvelous venues, but she would also travel to teach glamorous classes and workshops. We laughed along with some of her performance nightmare stories. It was amazing to see her light up as she talked about what she loved to do.

"Enough about me, now, yeesh. Mason, how's New York?"

I looked at the man that was sitting beside me. So far, he hasn't said much, just laughing along with the majority of our conversations. Mason smiled, his eyes meeting mine, lingering a little longer before he looked at Emily and answered her question.

"Well, it's definitely something, that's for sure. The city life is much different than livin' out here. For starters, no one owns a pair of boots. I mean they do own boots, but they aren't practical; they're for fashion. Lots of people like to think that they are fashionable over there." He laughed at himself. "I do suppose now I'm fashionable; I mean, could you see a guy like me wearing suits all day long?" He motioned to himself. We all laughed. The Mason I knew didn't even own a suit.

"My office is above Stanley Park, the view is spectacular. But nothing beats the sunsets around here," he drawled and smirked to himself. I rolled my eyes, but my smile never wavered as I got up to grab myself some more coffee.

"So, y'all have any special people in your lives?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Gosh, you sound like my mother!" cried Emily, putting her head in her hands. "There was this one guy an art student from France. We hit it off really well and dated for a couple of months, but then he had to go back home because his Co-op was over". There was a tinge of sadness in her voice. "Wait, let me show you a picture! He's mad cute." She showed us a few pictures of a man with dark locks and a matching beard. In one photo, his tattoo decorated arms were around Emily's tiny waist as they smiled for the camera. No doubt, they would have made an adorable couple.

"And you, Mason?" I pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, you Sunshine?" He asked with the same questioning tone.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Who is there in this town? No one", I huffed. Both Mason and Emily went silent.

"Tyler Branshaw still lives here," Mason taunted, licking his lips. I reached out and slapped his bicep. Just as I had suspected, his muscles were tense to the touch- big and luscious. Subconsciously, I bit my lip.

"Really, Mason?" pestered Emily, switching back to the subject. "You, Mason Scott, cannot find a lady in the Big Apple? Home to runway models and aspiring actresses?" The look on her face, made him squirm.