When he notices it’s not just me, he stands up, stretches, shakes, then plods over. Nova comes to a stop as soon as she notices him, and when he approaches her, he gives her feet, knees, and hand a few sniffs, then she bends down and pets him.
“Oh my God, he’s so cute. And quiet. I had a friend back in Florida who had this yappy little beast of a dog. He always barked and growled when I came in. But not you,” she says, turning back to Sugarfoot, cradling his head in her hands. “No, you’re a good boy.” She looks up at me. “Boy, right?”
I chuckle. “Yeah.”
“What’s his name?”
“Sugarfoot.”
She gasps. “I love it. Is it because of this paw?” she asks, talking to the dog as she holds his paw in her hand. “It’s because of this white, little paw, isn’t it? Oh my God, you’re gonna have to pry me away. I love him already.”
“He can come with us. Come on, boy,” I say, slapping a hand on my thigh. “Want a treat?”
Sugarfoot trots ahead of us, making his way downstairs and to the kitchen. “So happy you’re a dog guy and not a cat guy,” Nova says, coming up and taking my hand again.
“You don’t like cats?”
She scrunches her face up. “Not really. I’m not too sure why, though. They just seem like uppity little assholes.”
“My brother’s girlfriend has a cat. He hates cats, but for her, he’s doing pretty good putting up with it,” I say with a laugh.
When we get to the kitchen, I give Sugarfoot his treat, then me and Nova figure out what kind of snacks to take to the living room. When she spots the popcorn, she squeals. “Ooh, can we have this?”
I’ll never be able to tell her no if she keeps looking at me with those doe eyes and megawatt smile.
“Of course. I’ll pop it in now. Feel free to grab something to drink from the fridge.”
“You want a Gatorade?” she asks.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Once the popcorn is done, I pour it into a bowl, but Nova pops up next to me. “Wait! Do you have Lawry’s salt?”
“What? Lawry’s salt?”
“Yeah. You know, the red salt?”
I shake my head. “I know what it is, but you want it for your popcorn?”
“Oh my God, you’re gonna love it. Just wait. Where is it?”
I go into my cabinet and grab the bottle and hand it to her. She sprinkles some on the popcorn, shakes it around a bit, then sprinkles some more.
“Here, try,” she commands, bringing a piece to my mouth. I part my lips and let her drop it on my tongue. “Huh?” she questions, raising her brows. “It’s good, right?”
“It’s not bad,” I say, still chewing.
“Not bad. Pft.” She playfully rolls her eyes and grabs the bowl.
Once we get into the living room, we settle onto the dark brown couch, I turn the TV on, but lower the volume, and we start eating our Lawry’s flavored popcorn.
“So,” she starts, turning to face me while sitting cross legged on the cushion. “Tell me something about you.”
“There’s not much to say.”
“Oh, come on. There’s gotta be something.”
“I work at the college and I have three brothers.”
She looks up at the ceiling then pins me with her eyes. “Yeah, you’re a calculus professor, and one brother owns a bar, one is a famous musician, and one has a lot of tattoos. Okay, I don’t know much about that one, but you see, these are things I know already.”
“I suppose I’m not that interesting,” I say with a short laugh. “You never really know until someone asks you to tell them about yourself.”
“I don’t believe that,” she says, popping another piece of popcorn in her mouth. “Everybody is interesting in some way.”
I actually try to come up with some sort of unique piece of information about myself, but I can’t think of anything. My life hasn’t been full of adventure, and everything that’s coming to mind would just put a damper on the evening—my parents’ death, my failed relationship.
“Okay, I’ll go first,” she says, throwing me a bone. “I grew up in Florida, Tampa to be exact. My parents had my sister Gianna first, and I came six years later. Me and her weren’t close until I was probably thirteen. I mean, it’s not like we could play together right away, and then she became a teenager and hated me being around because I was ‘annoying’ or ‘embarrassing,’” she says with a laugh. “But my parents died when I was thirteen, and honestly, that’s probably what made us closer. Which I get is weird, but tragedy brings people together sometimes, and makes you realize life is short.” She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. “And then my sister finished raising me. We struggled for a long time, but we always had each other. I grew up faster than a lot of kids my age, but I was forced to. I didn’t have the luxury of having a completely carefree childhood. I did what I could to help lessen the burden for my sister. She was working three jobs, so I learned to put some easy meals together, cleaned the apartment, and tried to help balance the workload.” Nova uncaps her Gatorade, takes a sip, then closes it back up. “Now, you go.”
I blink several times. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She waves me off, like it’s not a big deal. Like she’s used to telling people it’s not a big deal. But it is. It’s a huge deal. Losing your parents, especially so young, changes your whole life. “I mean it,” I say, grabbing her hand in mine. “I know it’s hard. I know the struggle and the pain. I wish I could take that away from you, but I understand that it’s also a part of what made you who you are today. Just
