Chapter 6 (pt. 3)

His heels were lifted. His toes pressed firmly into the rubber sole of the sandals that rested flat against the floor. His knees bent and splayed out wide. One elbow was pressed into each knee for balance. She stood. He squatted. Face to face. She was already giggling. She knew what was coming. She saw the spoon, heaped with groundnut paste bouncing along with him. He took a small bite, then extended the spoon toward her. She looked at each of his joints—the toes, ankles, knees. She saw the way his tendons made ridges as they pressed against his skin, the way his muscled tightened and relaxed as he crouched to be near her. “Can I smell it?” she asked. He obliged. She moved in close, waiting for his move. With a gentle flick of the wrist, he pressed the spoon to her nose. She fell to the ground laughing. He laughed, too, at the sound of her laughter. He stood above her, bent at the waist, wiped the dollop of groundnut paste from the tip of her nose and put it in his mouth. She gazed up at him—at the tight curls of his hair, the soft wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Can I smell it?” he asked handing the spoon to her. They repeated the steps. He squatted down. She held out the spoon. He leaned in close. She pressed it to his nose. This time, he grabbed hold of her and hugged her tightly as he fell backward, rolling together on the floor. His laughter filled the room and she knew he would always be near.