me that. When I thought she was in line in front of me at the grocery store. The time I was sure she was driving the car next to mine. Or when I placed my hand on what I thought was her shoulder, and the woman turned and stared at me wide eyed, startled by my touch. It’s my mind playing tricks on me. But still, I look.
I notice her hair first. It’s a bit shorter now but still falls in soft waves past her shoulders. I hear her double-check that she said almond milk because she can’t have dairy. I pick up my keys and phone and start to leave. It’s not her. Mia used to drink whole milk straight out of the carton. Then she turns. I see the profile of her nose first. Slightly upturned. Then the freckles that dot it. More pronounced now. The curve of her cheekbone. Her long neck.
It’s her. It’s Mia.
She looks over as if sensing someone watching her. Her blue eyes meet mine. It seems to take her a second to register it’s me. She smiles, timidly at first, and then her entire face lights up. I feel dizzy. The sight of her takes my breath away.
She rushes over and stands only inches from me, all five feet, seven inches of her. Her body still long and lean. “Oh my God. Dom?”
I am reaching toward her for a hug before I realize what I’m doing. But thankfully, she accepts my embrace. I want to hold her forever, inhaling her floral scent. But she pulls away quickly. “Were you leaving?” She looks at the keys in my hand.
“I was, but now, no. No way.”
She smiles, then points at the empty bench across from me. “Could we sit for a second?” I nod, thinking that we can sit here forever.
The man with the baby on his chest glances over, and Mia coos at the child. The baby stretches its hand toward her, awake now.
I lean across the table and whisper, “Do you think he’s the dad or the manny?”
“Still playing your game, I see.”
I smile. She remembers. What else has stuck with her?
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Last I saw on Facebook, you were still living in Glencoe.”
“I moved back last week. I’m at Hailey’s here in Oceanside.”
A million questions come to mind. Why is she back? Is she staying for good, or is it temporary? Why is she living with her sister? Does she have a boyfriend? I glance at her ring finger. It’s bare. She catches me, and I wait for her to call me on it, but she doesn’t. The barista calls her name, and she gets up to grab her latte, and I watch her walk over. I see her pick up the mug—turns out she went with hot. I want to ask her why she drinks almond milk now. What her favorite TV show is. If she still loves to go to the movies and order the large buttered popcorn with extra butter. What does she think of our president? Did she ever take that trip to the Great Wall of China? How quickly did she move on from—
“Dom?” I look up to find Mia is back in her seat.
“Sorry. I was thinking that I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I know. I can’t either,” she says, something flickering in her eyes. But she quickly looks down at the perfectly drawn leaf in her latte and takes a careful sip so as to not spill.
“What brought you back?” I ask.
She laughs. “So many questions about me! How are you?” she deflects.
“I’m good,” I lie. But wait—I am good. I thought I was, anyway. Until I came to a coffee shop thirty miles away from my home and ran into her. Now what the hell do I do?
“You’re good? That’s all? What else? I want to know everything!”
So do I. About you. But why do I feel like I can’t ask?
“Like what?”
“Are you happy?”
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that one,” I sputter.
Mia smiles, the one where only the right side of her mouth curves upward.
“And I’m not sure how to answer that. It’s a big question.”
“Well, that’s honest,” she says and plays with the small silver earring in her right ear.
“Are you?”
“What? Happy?”
I nod.
Mia waits several beats. “You’re right. That’s a hard one to answer. How do you think they make this leaf design?” she asks, peering into her mug.
“I’ll take subject changes for five hundred, Alex.”