Corinne worked late Thursday night.
Enoch was supposed to come by after church and stay the night. They weren’t even making a pretense of spending nights apart anymore. Corinne was glad. She didn’t want to lie in bed missing him just to feign autonomy.
Enoch called her when church was over. “Do you feel like Dairy Queen?”
“I think you probably feel like Dairy Queen…”
“We can make it if we hurry. I’ll come get you.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want to pick up ice cream on the way here?”
“I don’t feel like ice cream—I feel like Dairy Queen.”
Corinne couldn’t believe she was bundling up in her winter coat to get ice cream.
“People buy more ice cream in winter than summer,” Enoch said, turning the dashboard vent to blow warm air her way.
There was a long line at the Dairy Queen, so he must be right.
They stood in line together. Enoch in his suit and his dress coat and a navy-blue woolen hat. Corinne in jeans she threw on and a slouchy T-shirt she liked to sleep in, and the bright yellow down coat Enoch said made her look like a fluffy duckling.
He stood with his arm around her. Corinne liked it. She leaned against him.
“What do you get at Dairy Queen?” she asked.
“I don’t get the same thing every time, there are too many good options.”
“What are you getting tonight?”
“A German chocolate Blizzard,” he said, “or … a Peanut Buster Parfait, or…” He put his hands on Corinne’s shoulders and rested his chin on her head, looking up at the menu. “A cherry-dipped cone.”
“That seems basic.”
“Their cherry dip is inimitable. What are you getting?”
“Banana-split Blizzard,” Corinne said.
“Such a good choice.”
“I’ll share with you.”
“Corinne, I love you.”
She laughed.
They ordered. And waited at the other side of the counter. Enoch kept an arm around Corinne’s shoulder. When Corinne’s Blizzard came out first, she offered him the first bite. He grinned and opened his mouth to take it. She loved him so much, it ached. It was more lizard-brain chicanery. It made her want to shake like a dog who had just come in from the rain.
She pulled her red spoon away, smiling at him.
The bell over the door rang, and another group of people came in, letting in cold air. Corinne glanced over, without thinking.
It was Alicia. And Shawn. Alicia looked up first, looked right at them. Her face dropped. Corinne didn’t look away. Shawn looked up next. He froze, right in the middle of taking off his scarf. Corinne lifted her fingers, acknowledging them. Acknowledging the whole scene. Enoch’s arm slid off her shoulder.
When Corinne turned to him, he was looking at her, as solemn as the grave.
“German chocolate Blizzard,” the Dairy Queen employee said, flipping the cup upside down, then holding it out.
Enoch took it, then looked at Corinne. “Ready?”
She reached for his free hand. He caught her hand and squeezed it tight. She nodded.
They had to walk past them to leave. Shawn looked away. Alicia didn’t. She still looked shocked and hurt. Corinne followed Enoch to the truck.
They didn’t talk on the way home. They left their Blizzards in the cupholders. Corinne looked out the window and cried.
“Do you still want me to come up?”
They’d just pulled into the parking lot behind her apartment. Corinne wiped her eyes, surprised. “What?”
“If you want some space to think—”
“No,” Corinne said. “I don’t want space. I’m sorry I made you think I want space.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” she said again. “It’s not your fault. It was inevitable.”
“Still … it didn’t have to happen tonight.”
“Can we go in?” Corinne asked. “It’s cold.”
They went in. Enoch carried their ice cream. When Corinne let him into her apartment, he took the cups into the kitchen.
“You can eat your ice cream,” she called.
“I don’t like to eat ice cream when I’m sad,” he said. “It sets a bad precedent.”
Corinne took off her coat and sat on the couch.
“Do you want tea?” Enoch called out.
“Yeah, thanks.”
He came back after a few minutes with two mugs, and sat down next to her. Corinne took a few sips of tea. Sleepytime. Enoch tried to switch the lamp on, but nothing happened. “Dang. I thought I fixed this.”
“It’s not plugged in,” Corinne said.
“Why not?”
“There’s only one outlet in here.”
Enoch looked at her, hangdog. “Corinne. I am literally at your service.”
Corinne smiled and reached up to his cheek. She started crying again. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He took the tea from her and pulled her into his lap. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Corinne sat in his lap. She got her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because you’re doing this for me,” she said. “You disgraced yourself for me.”
He looked like he wanted to argue the point, but he didn’t. “This is my fault,” he said. “I’ve actually been to that Dairy Queen with Shawn and Alicia.”
“Enoch, really?”
“I didn’t think they’d go without me—they always complained about it! Alicia always wants pie instead.”
“Maybe they miss you.”
He made a miserable face. “What do you think is going to happen?”
“I think they’re going to tell my mom and my sister. And Noah and Mercy.”
“But—how does that change things? They all already know you’re in the world.”
“This will give new juice to my cast-out status,” Corinne said. “It’s like I’ve returned to the scene of the crime.”
“I don’t want you to think of me that way,” he said.
“I don’t want you to think of me that way.”
“I don’t.”
She set her forehead against his and closed her eyes. “I just hate that we have to be alone to be together. It makes me so sad. I hate that I’ve done to you what I did to myself.”
Enoch hugged her waist. “Stop framing it that way. You’re breaking the rules.”
“What rules?”
“Our rules. You’re a person, remember? Not a pitfall. And I’m a person. And we both have agency here.”
She breathed out hard, pressing her forehead against his. A new sob crawled out of her. “They’re going to cut me off again.”
It had taken a decade to earn back their favor. A decade on her knees. Corinne had been so careful. She’d moved across the country. And she’d lost it all, she’d lost them—the same way she’d lost them the first time …
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.” Enoch held her tight.
… but it wasn’t the same.
This wasn’t the same.
Even if her mother showed up at school tomorrow to slap her.
Corinne was cast out. But Enoch was cast out, too. They were in this together.
“Can we go to bed?” she asked.
“Yeah, let’s call it a night.”