Beck's husband was doing stuff in a foreign country for the summer, so she came from the east coast (with her entourage) to stay at my parents' house.
This meant I got to see her a lot. We spent almost all of July together. In the mornings, her people would wake me up. Climb up in my bed and pester me about my phone. After a minute, they'd get bored and go downstairs to other things—I'd fall asleep for a few more minutes before going to work.
B-man was distracted with all sorts of cousins, so usually Juan and I would hang out. Eat breakfast on the front step. Together, we could demolish a bowl of raspberries or watermelon—at first we'd take turns picking the fruit out of the bowl until it was just Juan hogging everything.
The other day she was in SLC for a few minutes on her way to a reunion for her husband's family. I made her meet me at the Walmart downtown. I claimed I'd left some magazines I needed in B-man's backpack. It was true, but sort of a lie because really I just wanted to see her one more time.
When I climbed out of my car, Juan yelled across the parking lot: hi! And then he said, "Oh!" because I'm pretty sure he was thinking, I know you! I'd probably follow that kid across the country barefoot if he asked me to. I'd for sure give him the top secret location of my mom's stash of candy for her primary kids.
Anyways, my sister and I talked for a few minutes. About nothing. Then we hugged and I said our normal goodbye which is where I say: see you tomorrow.