All Our Lives ✔

EPILOGUE, PART II

I hobbled up the hill, and Sebri chased me with my cane. I say chased, but she was even slower. It was probably that new hip. All those replacements were made to seem so flashy these days, but recovery time was still slow for nonagenarians. That would probably always be the case.

"Oh, my melons!" I cried.

One of the two cantaloupes had rolled out of my arms.

I heard Sebri behind me, laughing her head off, and when I glared over my shoulder—it wasn't worth the effort of turning all the way around—she was bracing herself on the cane, knees together, shaking with the effort to remain upright.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" gradually became "HA! HA! HA! HA...!" as she got tired.

That almost got me started. God, we were old.

A little boy walking by with his mother had asked her, "Mommy, is that lady older than God?" She explained, sheepishly, that he'd been asking how old God was lately and his curiosity hadn't stopped there. She apologized, informing me that I was probably the oldest person he'd seen so far. (I said she should give me a tip on his behalf, then.)

Old, but still fabulous. And I could split a melon in half with my bare hands. (I'd never tried, but I had faith in myself.)

I waited for Sebri to reach me with my hands on my hips.

"Show-off," she said, because she couldn't do that yet.

Sighing, we sat down on the bench that overlooked the sea. The waves were peaceful, the air fresher than it was thirty years ago. It was a sunnier day than I would've liked, but I couldn't complain. The weather didn't matter when I had my girl by my side. (Though in a blizzard, I could only expect to be used for warmth. Apparently, since our younger days, Sebri had really been after my body heat as much as she'd been after me.)

She dug around in her cleavage. "I've got something for you."

"I've got all my teeth, thanks," I grumbled. I was smaller than ever, but there was that.

Sebri took out an eraser, a deck of cards, something like a bunny tail... I rolled my eyes toward the sky.

George's laughter filled my ears.

After maybe five minutes and five curses, she held out her offering.

It was a daffodil. A somewhat squashed daffodil. 

"You're gonna get a ticket for picking that," I said. But I took it.

I'd go to jail for her if I had to. I'd certainly done it before.

"You're still beautiful." She nudged me with her shoulder. "At your age, that's alien. I thought I'd tell you before they take you away."

"You're older than me. And sexier." I paused as she threw out a skinny leg. "They'll take you first."

Though she'd make them regret it.

"Do you think we have time for a quick one, Angel?" Sebri asked.

"My back hurts," I sniffed. "And my butt itches where they gave me that shot."

At my age, one of the fastest things you did was drop your trousers. I guess I should've played a little hard to get. I felt punished for my enthusiasm.

"I could scratch that for you." She wiggled her pale eyebrows, Creep 3 and Creep 4.

"Maybe after the picnic," I said, patting the surviving melon, which sat between us. "I might forget about it until then."

We listened to the water for a while, to our breaths, to the friction of fabric whenever we moved. It was quiet.

Until—