“I have!” Closing the box, Arden set it carefully next to her before she grinned up at him, “I had a lot of fun today.” She twisted the bag of cotton candy shut, tying it up into a knot. Rolling the hard candy to the side of her mouth, she placed the floss sugar next to her latest gift. “I went to the mall,” she said, reaching behind her for something, “Here.” She pulled out a black, leather-bound book tossing it over to him.
It was the Ignatius Bible. If he opened it, he would see on the cover a quick sketch of a turtle with “2018” written on its shell and her initial right beneath it in black marker. Nico had been carrying around that – what was it? – Protestant Bible, which she’d personally found amusing as all hell for a while. But, since she hadn’t given him a gift on his birthday a handful of days ago and she’d just so happened to chance upon it, she decided it was better late than never. Not that she particularly cared that she had missed his actual birthday. He had upset her that day, something he was prone to do. Actually, he hadn’t been much in her favor since his stint back in New York, so he should be grateful she’d even bothered now. “Don’t say I never gave you anything,” she said with a satisfied smile, stretching out her legs.
It was a silly quip since she’d always given him something on his birthday. Every year. Not once had she missed one, late or otherwise. She didn’t celebrate her own and she couldn’t spare the time to remember other people’s, but she would always remember Nico’s. One of them had to acknowledge their date of birth. Why not his? Running her finger along the steel floor, she looked down at the gathering of dust on it before she brushed it off. “Abbiamo bisogno di fare le pulizie di primavera,” she decided off-handedly, “Go out tomorrow to find supplies.” It was about time they made the train resemble a proper nest. The blob storm had been an impediment, but now there was no more excuse.