I've mentioned a childhood friend named David more than once here, but there were two Davids in my class. At least I think that's correct--we did have five Jeff's in a class of fifty five-ish. (That actor must've made quite the impression on those parents--couldn't have been just the mothers. Am I right?)
One long time memory of David B-- was gifting (they'd discover later it was temporary) his wristwatch to whichever classmate took his fancy. Eventually, it became a competition to see who could keep it the longest or receive it next.
When we were older--maybe middle school--he asked me to join him on an errand. Maybe it was lunch time. Naive me, didn't ask questions, I just chummed along--something I learned at a young age. We went to his grandmother's house, perhaps he was doing a promised chore.
Speaking of naive, he left me sitting alone in her immaculate living room, in front of a coffee table with a lovely cut glass dish heaping full of some kind of nut. He asked if I'd ever had a cashew before, "try one. they're good", he urged. David wasn't kidding! They were good! They were irresistible!
I can still see that look on his face (shock? awe? horror? fear of grandma?), when he came back into the living room and saw the shiny, unnutty, bottom of that cut glass dish.
"You ate them all?!"
"They were so good. I couldn't stop."
And that was the last time I was ever taken to David's grandmother's house. The end.
Love, K
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