Free Buddha Baby by Kim Wong Keltner Page B

Hopkins, Tadich Grill, or the Black and White Ball, you just feel it in your bones that you're home. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like that you knew you belonged here even if you didn't… come looking to belong."
    "But I was looking, I just didn't know it," Michael said, shooting her a smile. "When I first noticed you at
Vegan Warrior
, I liked that you never used to let people get away with their stupid shit. I remember when that editor, Lisa Didder, insisted that everyone call her Topaz, you used to get on the intercom and say stuff like, 'package at the front desk for the Didder.' And when that guy tried to play off that his name was pronounced 'Osshead,' you still called him Mr. Asshead, the way it was spelled. You were funny. And bold. I always knew you were smarter than so many people who worked above you, but you did all their dirty work without complaining. Actually, I kind of miss you at work. Now there's no one else to talk to."
    "Oh, come on. You see me every day."
    "Yeah, I know. But it's different. Did you know that when I used to hover over your desk, if I stood a little to the side, I could always see through that pinky-red blouse you wore? And I liked how, by the fax machine, you always unconsciously leaned in when I stood close to you. You always smelled faintly of citrus… and steak. Now I know it was your bergamot hair conditioner and Pau Pau's cooking, but back then, it was all so mysterious and sexy, in a domestic kind of way."
    "Incidentally," he added, "I like to watch you put your lipstick on in the car when you think I'm not looking."
    Lindsey blotted her lips on a tissue and replaced the cap on her tube of gloss. "Oh," she said. Still slightly shy of him, she looked away with a smile.
    Arriving in front of their building, Michael parked the car and they unloaded the groceries. As they headed up their steps, he said, "Up until coming here, I moved around a lot, and the way you looked at me, and came to trust me, made me want a home. Made me think, for once, I could make a home with a girl who I wouldn't have to lie to just so I could get or do what I wanted."
    "So are you saying that before you met me you were a liar?" She shot him a teasing look.
    "Um, no." He smiled. "I'm just saying that you're the only girl I ever met where I wanted to be honest in everything. See, like you have this lipstick smudge right… here." He reached over and rubbed a tiny spot near her mouth, then leaned over and kissed it quickly.
    She noticed an old lady across the street watching them, and aware that they were being stared at, she said, "hey," and nudged him away.
    "Nope," Michael said, playfully pulling her toward him. "You have to do what I say now. You're my wife."
    "Not yet!" she yelped in protest as he pushed her through the door and shut it behind them. Gently pushing her down on the inside stairs, he let the groceries fall willy nilly to the side. She said, "You're squishing my cupcakes!"
    "That's the whole idea," he replied, continuing to bump his cucumber against her fruit basket. His mouth traveled down her neck and to her belly button where he deftly unfastened her miniskirt. They decided they couldn't wait until after dinner, so there in the dim stairwell, he devoured her cherry pie.
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Digging Up Dirt

     
    The next morning, Lindsey watched Michael from the window as he ran down the steps to the car and threw his luggage into the backseat. He started the engine and waved one last time, and as he zoomed off she already missed him.
    When she arrived at St. Maude's, the doors were locked. She'd forgotten that the school was closed for Ascension Day. Turning around and heading back home, she was sorry that she got dressed and rushed all the way to work.
    As she walked, cars sped by on Oak Street. She noticed how strange it was that there were no other pedestrians. She passed overgrown gardens spilling through cast-iron fences and rows of cracked, marble stairs. Soon enough, she had that