Coupons for a cold deal

In which our Hero fishes out a Mouse story after a long phone call

As my cousins slowly trickle out of their teens, they get sucked into having lives that don’t automatically conform to their parents. And that means that the kids who have graced my diary entries past are less present in the now. The Mouse is finishing second year university. Moonbeam is entering her final year of high school.

Also I think time has changed how I interact with the family babies. I used to be in the thick of it, brawling with the babies while keeping a perked ear for the smallest ones waking from their nap. Now, it’s a lot more like being a tree amongst the birds. They sweep through, I enjoy them while they’re there and afterwards, I’m left with tangled nests and piles of crap. Mouse and Moonbeam knew I was theirs and came running (or crawling) to me, even though I saw them a whole lot less than I see Oven and Fridge. The new babies warm to me the way they warm to any stranger.

That said, Mouse sent me an email, I replied, and the next thing, we had booked a lunch because we were both free for a few hours. Which is how I came to be waiting downtown, at parade ease in front of an office tower, watching people go by and occasionally texting Nocturne. One of the times I glanced up and looked around, I found Mouse’s grin just down the street.

We went out for sushi. She suggested it, and I’m a fan. I’m surprised at how many small hole-in-the-wall sushi places there are in the same little block of buildings we picked.

I don’t know what to say about it. Except the fact of how much I enjoyed getting to see her, or the amusement at discovering that she doesn’t like avocados.

Did my heart good.

Well, did my heart mostly good. Except that while I was waiting for her, I noticed that candy shop that had been new a few decades ago that I’d never made it in to, and I figured I’d see what they had. They had a western union, and a key cutting station. And candy. Oodles of candy.

Including Jelly Tots. I don’t even know when they stopped making them in Canada. I used to get them while I was in university, but I can’t remember seeing them in a store in a very long time. And I’d checked online but they wanted something like 8-10 dollars for a 200 gram bag of silly sweets, and I was going to get one just for nostalgia’s sake, after my lenten observance had passed.

But here they were, still expensive but right here. And now I have nearly a pound of jelly tots sitting on my desk, taunting me about the KitKat bar I still haven’t eaten.

And why the hell did I get a pound of them?

Coal is very excited about her iron ring ceremony, and excited that I can attend. I’m enjoying her excitement. I’m also enjoying that she wants me there. That’s for the end of the month.

I’m stoked. It’s not exactly a vacation, but it’s a reason to break routine for a day, with the added bonus that I get to drive my car a down the road a little.

Suddenly I’m nervous. Which is funny because I’ve done this before.

My little bit of sadness that my cousin was leaving for the west coast was startled out of existence by a very early morning phone call. Sleepy was sorry for taking so long to call, but she wanted to let me know what she was going to be doing.

It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t make a difference because she’s a grown up, and going to do her thing. But it’s a gesture. And it gives me the chance to gesture back.

We ended up talking for almost an hour. I gave her a bit of a brain dump, as she’s been running as a sole-proprietorship till now and is new to being incorporated. And I’ve been sending her links and references. It’s not the same as a hug, I know. But I want her to realize I keep her in my thoughts.

And one last thing.

The other night, Nocturne was hungry and I hadn’t eaten, so we decided to do a parallel fast-food run so we could have dinner together. Which was silly and fun and my only regret was not getting the Oreo McFlurry that I’d deeply enjoy and regret afterward (can’t win that one).

But later, when my parents got home, my mother asked me if I wanted dinner, and I told her that I’d gone to McDonalds.

“Oh,” she said. “They sent out coupons, you want them?”

Sure, why not. And she led me to the kitchen. Past the little wood note thinger I made for her in 7th grade shop class that usually has coupons tucked into it. Past the table with the stack of newspapers and flyers.

To the refrigerator. Which she opened, and, after digging around, she pulled out a book of coupons, slightly chilled to my touch.

It’s one of those moments where you just don’t know what to say. And I think my mom realized that this was just a little bit odd, but she didn’t say anything either. But from behind me, my dad piped up.

“She didn’t want them to go bad”