Hearing footsteps, I picked up my pace. When I reached the edge of town, I stopped. “Denny, I don’t care.”
But it wasn’t Denny.
“What are you doing?” I asked, stunned.
“Following you,” Garbi replied.
“Why?”
“I want to see where you’ll go.”
“I’m going home.”
“Home,” he mused, “I haven’t been home in a long time.”
The wistful note in his voice made me quiver. I wanted to take him in my arms. “Goodnight,” I said and walked away, tripping over a rock. I caught myself, waved, and shuffled out of the glow of the streetlight.
I tried to collect myself, but he continued to follow.
“All day long I wonder how to see you again,” he said behind me. “I said to myself, Garbi, you must have more of him…and the smell, the lavender made me crazy.”
I finally stopped and turned toward him.
He approached, his hands thrust in his soccer shorts. He lifted clenched fists. “I stole from you.” In the semi-darkness, I could just make out the crushed lavender sifting through his fingers.