Page 164 - Interior_SPRING SUMMER FALLING_2021

164 | FRANCESCA P E NN

Sanya continues to eat as if we aren’t occupying her space. I can’t tell if she is
bothered by my announcement or just doesn’t care. The latter stings; we’ve created
a lot of memories in the house. I would hate to find out she is just having fun while
I am falling in love. Sanya not wanting me would be a crushing blow to my system.
I would be that mopey bleeding heart people expect to see when I split with Cassie.

I shudder at the thought.
“I’ll make more lemonade,” she announces after popping up from the table
and grabbing a near empty pitcher.
The other women look at me while my dad and hers continue to eat.

Am I such a guy that I missed something the women didn’t?
“I’ll help,” Gail volunteers before she disappears.
Claire raises her eyebrows at me from across the table. I tilt my head in a silent
question, and she mouths, “Stupid.”
I know I am stupid, but I’m not sure why she’s calling me stupid.

Gail returns shortly after disappearing. “Henri, sweetie. Can you do me a favor
and help Sanya. There are a few things she can’t reach.” Sanya’s dad tries to stand
to offer his assistance, but Gail pushes down on his shoulders so he remains seated.
“Run along, Henri. You know the kitchen just as well as she does.”
My mom nods encouragingly, and Claire hangs her head in her hands like she’s
related to the biggest dummy in the world. Women really do have a completely
different language. Not one to waste an opportunity to be alone with Sanya, I head
towards the house. I may not understand what’s transpired, but I know when a
hint his hitting me over the head.

The cool air hugs me like a long-lost friend. I stop briefly, allowing my eyes to
adjust to the dimmer light. I find Sanya in the kitchen cutting the ends off a lemon
with more force than necessary. Chop. Chop. Chop. I watch her for a moment. She
pulls the gallon of cold water out of the fridge and slams it on the counter. I’m glad
it’s sealed. The peeled lemons land into the blender with far less finesse than she
used that morning. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Sanya is upset. I’m still amazed that all the women knew immediately. I step in
after the second scoop of sugar is flung into the blender. I press my chest against
her back and put my hands on top of hers to still her movements. She’s still, but I
can feel the irritation bouncing off her.