Sincerely Yours, No Matter Where

The Power of Friendship IV

Battered by numerous monsoons, the wooden door's sun-bleached red paint peeled off in layers, remaining intact only on the upper half section. Underneath, the wood was brittle and splintered from frequent bloating. Thomas hadn't noticed those small, insignificant details before. Captivated by it, he stared, engraving everything about that last day in his mind.

The sound of someone fumbling and dragging their feet grew louder behind the door. It slowly opened and Christina's father emerged. He leaned against the doorframe, head hung low and struggling to remain upright. His dark-blonde hair was messily scattered about on his forehead and sleep remained in his eyes. When he looked at Thomas, he squinted an eye and squinched half of his face up.

"Good morning, Mr. Ashton!"

"Morning. You're here early, little man," Mr. Ashton croaked.

Embarrassed, Thomas eyed him for a moment. "Did I wake you up?"

"Actually, Christina was the first one ... I don't know, like thirty minutes ago? Thought I could get some 'snooze-time' before you showed aah-um-puh," he yawned and smacked his lips. "Unfortunately, you guys don't come with a snooze button. So, what's the deal?"

"Can Christina come with me to eat ice cream? I asked my parents and they said it was ok. My dad's waiting. He's gonna take us to the store."

"Your parents are letting you eat ice cream for breakfast?"

"Yeah. We're leaving tomorrow and it's my last day wish. Please?"

"Ah, I see!" Mr. Ashton laughed. "Well, since it's your wish and you are leaving tomorrow, I guess there's no harm in letting Christina eat dessert for breakfast with you. Let me go get her."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Ashton!" Thomas beamed, and bobbed his head in an impatient little dance.

"Daddy, is Thomas here?"

"Yeah, he's right at the—,"

Shoes clacked rapidly against the floor and Christina leaped out. "Thomas! Thomas! Thomas!" she bounced while grabbing his arm, "we gonna have the bestest day, today!"

When Mr. Ashton returned, he gaped at his daughter. "Why can't you do that when supper's ready?" He crossed his arms, which made Christina frown. "It takes me an hour to get you to the dinner table."

She looked down at her white shoes and muttered: "'cause I hate broccoli and you always try to make me eat it."

Mr. Ashton scoffed and shook his head before turning to Thomas. "Now, I know your dad is chaperoning, but I'm going to need you to keep her safe. Can I count on you to do that, Thomas?"

Thomas straightened his back, puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. "Yes, sir. I promise."

It was reminiscent of something a peacock would do. Mr. Ashton raised his eyebrows and stifled a laugh. "Aaaall right, then. You kids have fun and try not to eat too much ice cream. I don't want this one getting a stomachache." He hugged Christina.

"'Kay. Bye, daddy!"

"I think you'll like the store. It has a lot of really cool ice creams," Thomas said as they walked away.