Sunshine Kisses

‘You look like your brother.’

‘Ouch.’ His voice turned to a grumble.

‘I would have dressed up for you, but I was only informed of you playing taxi when I was already on the train.’ Abby gestured to the oversized men’s button down she’d thrown carelessly over a cotton camisole and high-waisted denim shorts. She wasn’t sure which of her two previous boyfriends had donated it to her wardrobe, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. The flannel was worn and soft and it made her feel warm and safe. Like a big cosy hug.

Erik glanced towards her, eyes lingering for a moment on the grey tartan folds at her elbows. ‘You always look great,’ he muttered. ‘You’re welcome, by the way. For the shirt.’

‘It’s yours? I dug it out of my wardrobe a couple months ago and figured it was an old boyfriend’s.’ She’d quickly become attached, wearing it regularly.

A muscle ticked in Erik’s jaw. ‘Nope. Just mine. I must have left it there when I stayed over after that birthday dinner last year.’ His hands tightened slightly on the wheel as he turned his gaze back to the road.

He seemed surprisingly annoyed about the shirt. Maybe she needed to get it dry cleaned at the hotel and return it to him. But then, as if he had read her mind: ‘Don’t worry about giving it back. It looks better on you anyway.’ Erik was smiling as he spoke, but it looked strained, and Abby cast about desperately for a subject change.

‘How long have you been home?’

‘I got in yesterday. Was subjected to the Spanish Inquisition, naturally. And we drove to the hotel this morning. Your parents had planned to head through this afternoon and collect you on the way, until I suggested it might be far more comfortable for them to arrive early and get settled at the hotel while I drove back to fetch you. So you can thank me for that, by the way.’ He turned his head briefly to hers again, shooting her a wry smile.

‘My hero,’ Abby said, fluttering her eyelashes and draping her hands dramatically over her chest.

Erik chuckled again and Abby let the throaty sound wash over her. Some of the tension from the moments before had eased out of him, and he was back to the easy posture she knew and loved. Discomfort rarely coloured their relationship, and she was glad when it passed quickly.

It hit her fully how much she had missed him. It didn’t matter how good they were at keeping in touch. Nothing compared to the warm glow that radiated off him while they sat side by side.

‘How are things going with them? You haven’t mentioned them in an email for a while.’

Abby sighed, curling her legs onto the bench seat and turning her body to face him, drinking in every line of his face. ‘Same old, you know? It’s lovely that I’m studying my little books, but wouldn’t it be lovelier if I were doing something that would actually help people? How nice that I’ll be able to call myself a doctor after studying for eight years even though I’ll still be wholly unequipped to save a life.’

‘Shit, Abby. I’m sorry.’ Erik reached for her hand again, stroking his thumb gently over the back of it.

‘They’ve stopped actively complaining about it, which is something, I guess. It’s just snide little comments.’

His eyebrows drew together, that muscle clenching in his jaw again. ‘And that’s better?’

‘It’s easier to ignore,’ she said softly, picking at a thread on her shorts.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Erik squeezing her hand gently. It was a comforting gesture they had established as kids. When Erik received too much stimulation—bright lights, too many colours or patterns, clashing sounds, or even just a surplus of emotions—having one space in his body on which to narrow his focus helped quiet the noise flooding his brain. That was how he’d explained it years later, at least. Of course, at the tender age of five, Abby had simply realised that an upset-looking-Erik was soothed when she took his hand. So she started doing it whenever he seemed overwhelmed. Even once he learned to hide it from the world, she would notice the tiniest shifts in his mood, allowing her to support him in difficult situations. And he returned the favour any time she did badly on a test or fought with her parents.

Abby finally looked up when he released her hand and brought the car to a stop. ‘We’re not there yet?’

‘No, just wait here a sec.’ Erik flashed a quick grin her way before climbing out the car and walking into the crumbling cafe in front of them.

Abby amused herself with looking at the view, enjoying the crash of waves on the rocks just a few metres ahead of her. She vaguely remembered this small, rundown beachside restaurant. It hadn’t been a regular feature of their holidays, but she had a few fuzzy memories of eating chips smothered in vinegar in this very same parking lot, playing games with Erik, and chasing Alex when he stole her books.

The click of the door drew her attention back into the car as Erik folded himself into his seat and placed a steaming box of chips and a cup filled with soft serve on the seat between them. He looked up at her, eyes twinkling. ‘Always better to be well fed when you head into the lions’ den.’

‘I think that’s the opposite of good advice,’ Abby said dryly.

‘Still. Comfort food is never a bad idea.’ Erik dragged a chip through the ice cream and held it up to her mouth.

She bit it out of his fingers, savouring the clashing textures, temperatures, and the curiously decadent salty-sweet combination. It had been years since she’d experienced it.

‘You know this is disgusting, right?’ Abby asked.

Erik swiped a drop of ice cream from her chin. Her eyes tracked his thumb back to his lips. ‘And yet, it was your idea.’

‘I was ten!’

‘Not stopping you now,’ he said, nodding at the seat, where Abby had already grabbed another chip and dipped it into the ice cream.