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"Oh how wonderful!"
"Well he's had his heart set on it for some time now…you know how busy he was with that newspaper route –"
"How can we forget? Dorothy used to put him as a shining example next to lazy-Sunday-me –"
"Well it was hard not to be impressed –"
"I suppose I'll need to tell Howie to talk to him…he needs some career guidance –"
The kitchen door swung open and Henry stumbled back, crushing the half-empty soda can close to his chest. He sighed loudly in relief when he saw it was Ramona, windblown hair swept behind her ears, arm linked through one of Howie's who acknowledged him with a curt nod. She beckoned him over with her free hand.
"Come on! You're probably bored hearing all this endless praise, huh?" He instinctively grinned back.
"Y-Yeah." She motioned silently for him to follow and scanning the living room once over, charged through the hallway past a very red Mr. Masteron roaring with hearty laughter at the childhood photographs on the walls. He followed them with ease, years of running through this house guiding his steps.
"He's here!" The backdoor swung open, and Ramona stepped back, Howie still hanging on her arm. Their footsteps faded out behind him. A rush of cool late summer air flowed past Henry the same moment he caught sight of the young woman outside, sharp profile lit by the fading sun, neat bob shining, the wine glass lazily spinning in her hand.
All the awkwardness of exchanging time capsules, brushing past at orientation, staring moodily across the graduation hall because prom was a disaster –
"Henry." Beezus was smiling. He faintly heard the can crumple once more.
"Hey Beezus," and he realized he could smile back easily, too. "Congrats on your engagement."