Dinner with the girls is over; I haven’t had a drop to drink but I feel mellow, so mellow; I’m snug in a woven seat at Fei’s door, waiting for him to come home and pass me a spare set of house keys; the silence of the night is sweet, so sweet, and I seem to have slipped into a Korean show, where everything is more intense and I’m more present.
But here they come – I hear them before I see them – Fei as high as a kite, singing “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Mama” at the top of his lungs, Z gurgling and P giggling, pinker in the cheeks and prettier than I have ever seen her. Fei sees me and starts scolding me for forgetting my keys again but he sounds so happy, it comes out like a joke. Going in, he passes Z to me to fuss over a small birthday cake for P and as the birthday song is sung again, I’m so happy that I forgot my keys and got to see them so, so happy together.
Ambling home afterwards, I’m alone and yet it’s like I’m being hugged; I’m sober and yet it’s like I’ve had champagne. Which maybe I kinda did, hours before dinner.
No comments:
Post a Comment