We walk back to her place and she asks if I want another beer and presses a slice of orange into the top of the bottle. We clink our bottles together and I take a sip. I like her idea of a beer. It seems to taste better with a slice of orange and a slow dance. The dance ends and I look at her but it always takes her a moment to look back, I don’t know why. Maybe someday she will tell me. Maybe not. Maybe I don't want to know. Maybe none of us wants to know, babe.
We move to the couch and sit in the sunlight. She puts her bare feet up on the footstool and snuggles into my shoulder. A slight breeze coming through the open window carries the smell of the tiny flowers hanging on the maples. Happy… It had always made me uncomfortable. It had always seemed alien. Happy was always something that happens right before something bad happens and I was feeling happy in spades. She hugs and kisses me before I leave and I laugh a bit. She eyes me with suspicion and questions my laugh. I ask her if it is alright for me to be happy and she smiles. On the other hand happy is the thing that happens before a bad thing happens. I laugh because I am happy, but I also laugh because I got a mental flash of my house burning down and it really didn’t bother me all that much.