Page 25 of Serpentine
“Thank you. I hope I got the proportions right; I usually follow a recipe card in my cookbook at home.”
We help her finish breakfast, then Miles and I set the table, and Aella plates portions for us.
“Fuck,” Miles says after a few moments of awkward silence. “When was the last time we sat here and ate something?”
I laugh, trying to recall the last time. “It was a Sunday, and Mom had on that ridiculous apron we made her in middle school. The one from home economics class? She made hash browns with breakfast, and...” I trail off as I see Aella watching me with her doe eyes wide and full of amusement.
My eyes connect with hers.
“Sorry, I just don’t have any memories like that,” she admits. “With my grandma, sure. But with my mom? None. Was it magical growing up here?”
Miles and I look at one another in utter disbelief. It is concerning that anyone would look at this place and think it was magical.
Just what has happened to this girl?
“Magic is a stretch,” Miles jokes, and I smile.
“Well, I don’t think anyone sees their life as magic or whimsy when they’re living it. But when you look back, hindsight being what it is, that’s when you see it. That’s when the warm, fuzzy feelings come into play,” she says.
Miles and I eye one another, both laughing again.
Her cheeks heat, and I realize I’ve made her just as uncomfortable as I was when Miles put me on the spot.
I clear my throat, searching for the right thing to say. Sometimes, I don’t always say the right thing. I’ve learned over the years that there’s a delicacy to communication. One that I lack. “Don’t you think maybe there’s an aspect of the rose-colored glasses effect when you look back at old memories?” I ask.
She narrows her brows as she takes a sip of water. “How so?”
“Well, when you’re looking back, most people don’t remember how they felt in a moment, right? Feelings are fleeting; only memories are lasting. So, if you remember a memory of cooking with your grandma, right? Let’s say that day you didn’t feel well, you had a headache, and her loud radio drove you insane. Let’s also say she refused to turn it down, right? So the entire morning, while you helped her, you were miserable. But when you look back, you only remember that you helped her. She loved every second, and the food was delicious. You’ve romanticized a moment in time that brought you sadness.”
“Hence, seeing it with rose-colored glasses on,” she adds.
I nod, biting a massive mouthful of pancakes off my fork.
“Huh. I’ve never thought that deeply about it, but you’re right. There is a bit of that with memories, isn’t there?”
“Oh, he’s good for over-analyzing with logic and ruining the magic of many things,” Miles says, lifting his brows as he looks away.
I smirk, knowing he’s not complaining, only processing some distant memory of him and me for himself.
“Well,” Aella says around a mouthful of pancakes, “everyone has their way of thinking. I kind of like a logical brain. I always like meeting people who differ from me and seeing their thoughts. Their perspectives, if you will.”
My mouth hangs open. It’s not what she’d said. It was the nonchalance with which she said it. She’s a genuine person who is comfortable in her skin. In my experience, it’s a rarity.
“What?” she asks, looking between us.
Neither of us gets a word edge-wise because the front door bursts open, and Kylo and Sully trudge inside.
“Oh, pancakes, sick!” Kylo says, and Sully rolls his eyes, sitting next to Miles.
“The board reached out. They want to meet,” Sully signs, and Miles and I nod.
We’d both learned ASL to accommodate Sully in our chapter. It had taken a while, and I was learning far quicker than Miles had, but it was worth it. He’s an asset as a Cobra. Someone worth the time it had taken to learn how to communicate with him.
“What’s happening?” Aella asks, and Sully eyes her with distrust, as is his nature.
“We have a case we’re working on, and the client is finally ready to negotiate,” Miles says cryptically.
I laugh, but she shrugs as if she doesn’t care about what’s happening in the world.