A City by an Ocean with a Plant by a Window, and a Cat by Emily Rinkema

Kelly’s drunk enough when they get to Applebee’s that she has to lean on Cam to stay upright and her head turns faster than her eyes which isn’t all that fast since she has to think about it, will it to turn to the left like her body is turning to get to their booth, which looks so warm, the low light over the table and she slides in across from Cam who leans towards her and she thinks he might kiss her in public only he says he’s going to go to the bathroom and can she order potato skins and that he’s going to try to get them free drinks when he gets back so just go with it, but she doesn’t want any more to drink.

Kelly practices ordering in her head to make sure she doesn’t forget because Cam will call her stupid if she forgets and then he’s back and he doesn’t slide into the booth, he gets down on one knee in front of Kelly and she knows that she’s supposed to play along, go with it, because they’ve done this before, pretend to get engaged so people buy them drinks, only she’s a little too drunk this time, so her mouth is open a little and Cam’s said something, asked something, and Kelly knows what it is, but asks him to repeat it and now people are looking at him, at them, and she’s supposed to be bringing her hand to her mouth in surprise, and then the waitress is there and Kelly tells her they want potato skins, and Cam is still on his knee and Kelly brings her hand to her mouth, only it’s too late now, so she says quickly, yes, I’ll marry you, but her hand is still over her mouth and Cam is sliding into the booth and shaking his head and someone behind him laughs and Kelly slides out of the booth and says, Bathroom.

The cool plastic of the toilet beneath her warm thighs feels so good and Kelly pees and she’s not sure she’s peed this much maybe ever, and it feels like her whole body is sighing, or maybe it’s her mouth that’s sighing, and even when she’s done she stays because it’s so comfortable and she can’t quite remember where she is, only that she’s tired and she’s supposed to be somewhere else, and she leans against the side of the stall, just for a minute, and she’s back in her high school bathroom imagining being anywhere but there, imagining an apartment in a city by an ocean with a plant by a window and maybe a cat, and then she hears the door open and a woman’s voice say, Honey, you okay? You okay, hon? and Kelly’s not sure who she’s talking to until there’s a light knock on her stall door, and she brings her hand to her mouth–again–only this time it’s to stop from laughing, but a sound escapes anyway and it must sound like a cry because the woman says, You don’t have to marry him, hon, it’s not too late.

And then Kelly is crying for real, sobbing, and she crumples up too much toilet paper and wipes herself and fumbles to pull up her jeans, which are too tight, and pushes the stall door instead of pulling it and thinks for a moment that she’ll never get out, which makes her cry harder, and then she’s out and the lights of the bathroom are so bright and there is the woman, who’s old enough to be Kelly’s mother, who even looks a little like Kelly imagines her mother would look, and without even hesitating, she folds Kelly into her arms and smooths her hair and tells her she understands, and Kelly believes that she does understand, all of it, so she lets herself be held until she can’t remember how she got here or why she hasn’t left.

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EMILY RINKEMA — Emily lives and writes in northern Vermont. Her stories have appeared in The Sun Magazine, SmokeLong Quarterly, Phoebe Journal, and the Best American Nonrequired Reading, the Bath Flash Fiction, and Oxford Flash Fiction anthologies. You can read her work on her website (https://emilyrinkema.wixsite.com/my-site) or follow her on X or IG (@emilyrinkema).

Art by KEELY HONEYWELL — Keely is a designer and artist who lives in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys making art for books, periodicals, and other venues. Her website is at keelyhoneywell.myportfolio.com.