Moving to Mangos

Moving to Mangos

Now Thursday, Audra stands again in the kitchen, taking the last green apple from the orange bowl David gifted her last year on their anniversary. Made of thin glass, the bowl takes on different hues of oranges and yellows, depending on the time of day.

They’d been sitting at their favorite table at Ambar, near the back, far from the kitchen but close enough to the street that they could watch passerby and make up stories about them. David, an artist, was forever searching for his next subject and Audra just liked to be in on his creative process. After their plates of curry and korma had been cleared away, David presented her with a black gift bag. Another nod to their shared history, the black bag served as a reminder to the first gift he’d ever offered her. Like then, this gift was a trio – three blue packages all nestled into one another, to be opened in order. That gift had been a candle, a bottle of perfume and a scarf, all items he selected for intrinsic value, but with practical application and meaning. At Ambar, Audra had grinned across the table at David, and began disassembling the gift, knowing that David’s thoughtfulness often far exceeded what she expected. He was good to her, and she knew it.

The first was a chef’s knife, steel blade sharp and glinting in the lowlight of the Indian restaurant; the second, a piece of teak wood, its color dark and rich. And when she unearthed the bowl from the bottom of the bag, the two gifts made sense. She’d leaned across the table and full on kissed him on the lips, her joy showing not just in her action, but in her eyes as well.

Without any apples, the bowl looks empty, forlorn and abandoned, much like how Audra feels. The October afternoon that will mark three years is fast approaching. Tired of eating apples, and tired of being tired, Audra pauses mid-stroke, her anniversary knife raised in the air. She doesn’t hear David rouse from bed and come into the kitchen. He’s standing in the doorway, watching her making a choice. Lately, that’s all they’ve been discussing – choices and options, which way is best and what makes sense. The resolve she had when she renewed her Officer commitment with the service has long left, and now Audra is faced with being in for another round of duty. It’s not that she minds the work, or misses civilian life, it’s that she’s always wondering what the next choice might need to be.

“Little One,” David says softly, “You know you can stop eating those apples. You’ve mourned long enough. Maybe you should switch to mangos. Bring a little sweet back into your life.”

Audra sets the knife on the teak board and turns to David. She smiles and nods. “I’ll go to the market tomorrow,” she says, leaning into him.