Marina & Nadia - just before (and during) fireworks
“It is cheating but since you’re the birthday girl, I would accept that answer,” Marina said, lifting her head slightly to grin up at Nadia, before turning a little more serious. Giving a nod of understanding, she continued, “I miss the crowds too. I used to go to all these dance clubs in Mexico and the room was so packed with bodies and it was stiflingly hot but it is one of my favorite memories from before. Being at the Dog Park, around the bonfire, is sort of like that but it’s not quite the same. You’ll have to visit again soon.”
The older woman nodded, for Marina was painting a more-than-familiar picture. “Dance clubs in Mexico! I used to go to clubs all the time back home. You should have seen them—there is this neighbourhood called Lapa, all of the clubs and restaurants opened out onto a crowded street, and people would be sitting on the stoops and drinking and talking until the early morning…” There was a wistful note in Nadia’s voice. Tonight had meant falling down the rabbit hole of things unsaid and roads not taken and lost. Meanwhile the future stretched ahead, too, bright with possibility.
Just. Sometimes it was nice, to look back.
Nadia scooted a little closer now, arranging herself on the scrub-grass beside her sort-of-sister, then flopped backwards, curled into Marina’s side like an open parenthesis.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, quietly.
Marina had the unfortunate disposition of her past being riddled with memories of Emmanuel that it was hard to appreciate them anymore when he’d discarded her so easily. But she didn’t let herself get caught up on details like that. Tonight was a night to celebrate Nadia, not get lost in her own melancholy.
Leaning her head against Nadia’s, she let out a content hum at their closeness, and replied, “Me too. When it’s my birthday we can recreate the dance club with decent music for a change.” Truth be told, all the bluegrass and country played around the Dog Park was growing on her, but she missed the rhythmic beats of Latino music. They would likely have to raid a music store, but it would be worth it.
She opened her mouth to say just that but was stopped short by the first firework exploding above their heads, lighting up the sky with an explosive bang. They weren’t as extravagant as the ones from before, but they were still beautiful. “Wow,” she whispered, her eyes wide with awe.
“Nate played me some Brazilian—” Nadia started, but then her own voice cut short as well, words falling silent as she craned her head to look up. It was their first sight of real honest-to-god fireworks.
“Wow,” she agreed.
There was a small and cautious voice in the back of her mind—wouldn’t this summon every single shuffler and runner and crawler for miles around, drawn to the noise and music and signs of people, living things, walking meals?—but there were many of them, they were armed, and safe.
She kept telling herself that. Safe, as she rested her head on Marina’s shoulder, and both women watched the flowering explosives going off above them, like some old remnant of the world before.