Chapter 23: Next to Me

"It isn't for anyone yet," I said. "I left it open on purpose."

"Okay yes or okay whatever?" Seth asked.

"Neither. Hang on."

I stood up from the middle of the table and walked down its whole length.

The talk thinned out as I went, and then it stopped.

I picked up the blank card and the green pen.

My hand was not quite steady, and I did not hide it.

I wrote his name on the front.

On the back, I wrote one more line, and I did not show it to anyone.

I put the card on the empty plate, and I pulled the chair out a little.

"Seth," I said. "Can you come here?"

He stood up, set his napkin on his chair, and walked down the table with every head turning after him.

My mother had stopped with her fork in the air.

I could hear the fence lights buzzing.

"I'm going to ask you for something," I said. "It's a request. You can say no."

"All right."

"I want you to sit here."

"That's the seat?"

"That's the seat, and it's not just for tonight."

He looked at the card, and I saw him read the back.

I knew what it said.

It said: Next to me.

"I want you at my table," I said. "I want you in that chair every Sunday."

"Okay."

"I want to wake up with you, and I want to hear you argue about salt in my kitchen."

"I don't argue about salt."

"You do. You've done it all month."

A few people laughed, and he ducked his head.

"I'm saying it in front of my mother because I was never allowed to say what I wanted at a table," I said.

"Say it."

"I want you to be mine, Seth. I want to be yours. Not as a favor, and not to keep anyone happy."

My voice shook on the last word.

"I want it because I want it."

The patio was silent.

Seth looked at me.

His gray eyes were wet, and he did not bother to hide it.

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