To commemorate the past few days of blissful breakage (of attendance, bread, and red-envelope bills, that is).
They see the sea. At the aquarium, she finds him seated, watching the otters blow silver bubbles. A ceiling of mackerel, a wall of water: the bounds of the monstrous mobster-tuna's patrol. Schools of children, likely on field trips, clot the exhibits. They flee the flood for fried shrimps and frizzled mushrooms, among other stolen frissons. Eighteen and eager, they sign their own waivers, and bike away the blue day. They find a shelf in the rocky shore and read, legs dangling into tide pools. Adhesive Dippin' Dots (banana was best) tide them through the evening's engagement. Festivities carry over from school stage to kitchen, as they bop to Crazy Indian Video, with zip-up sweaters for saris. Discovery: he can still fit into pink laundry basket. He gives her roses and salted chocolate squares, which her brother eats for breakfast.
She sketches to the grating Song of Auntie S, which blasts up the stairwell:
Verse 1: This house must sell!
Chorus: 小咪, you are in deep [poo-poo]!
Verse 2: Escrow1031Exchange!
She gets a great deal of drawing done, though. Several hours later: she is startled from sweet slumber by a pair of fragrant arms, belonging to none other than Cat. An inebriated Cat, in fact. In a small, decorative hat (almost). And that was that.
The Cat feels better in the morning. After church, they take The Cat for a walk at the duck-pond park, which is drained due to drought. The Cat hops into the cement mire, flaps her elbows, and transforms into a duck. Her brother savors the scene with a Snapchat.
Three women on a squashy yellow couch watch Joaquin Phoenix pseudo-snuggle with Scarlett Johansson. She is sandwiched by Auntie S and the Cat. She wonders if men of the slight future will wear high-waisted pants, and if Los Angeles shall take on shades of peach and bisque.
A blissful morning passes at the piano bench. What begins as an innocent lunch-date morphs into an escape to the City with the Big Red Bridge. They face each other on the train, pocketing stares; they walk in circles, not minding. With the swiftness of a coursing river, [Shang and Mulan] sneak into a glossy office building and ride the elevator to the top floor, where they encounter a ping-pong table and a conference. A trip to Ghirardelli yields salted-chocolate samples (Valentine's Day loss regained!). On the train home, they face backwards.
She cinches the working-morning with a dumpling lunch, then bounces out the door / up a mountain with ☃ and a young padawan. The hills, normally clothed in flaxen fields, wear shawls of scraggly gray grain. Cheery chatter distracts from distance. He is propelled by Hi-Chews; she, by he; and the padawan by that springiness eternal. Animal behavior studies: a boy gleefully spanks his brother. A quick visit to Oceania: the bunny is not in, though winter's chill is gone. Summer is coming (hai-yah, House Stark!).
That night, she dines with Jubbly: a pot of melted cheese (not fondue, but fundidos) and banana pancakes. They sneak off to Target, sigh over Lindt truffles of every cocoa percentage, deliberate between Cadbury Creme Eggs or nail polish, and rush home to process purchases by way of pie-hole.