“Oh, whos this?” gasped Lucy as she stepped into her friends kitchen.
Under the warm glow of the ceiling light, tucked beside the smallest cabinet, sat a balding man in his forties, quietly and deftly chopping parsley with Ellies wide kitchen knife.
“Lucy, this is Tom. Tom, this is Lucy,” Ellie muttered, flushing red. “Heres your sugarlets go.” She shoved a tin marked with sugar crystals into her neighbours hands and hurried her into the hallway.
“Lovely to meet you!” Lucy called loudly over her shoulder, her sharp eyes scanning Ellies new “guest.”
But even on closer inspection, there was nothing remarkable about himno detail that could justify his sudden presence in Ellies apron, printed with colourful doughnuts.
“Tom, Ill be right back,” Ellie shouted toward the kitchen before shutting the door.
Then, in the hallway, Lucy gripped her arm in a vice-like hold.
“Spill!”
“Whats there to spill?” Ellie tried to dodge. “Oh, fine, come on.”
The two friends left the flat, crossed the cramped entrance hall, and slipped into Lucys two-bedroom flat.
Inside, the air smelled of cinnamon and Dior perfume. Every detail, from the pristine white pouffe by the door, announced Lucys meticulous care for her home.
“Not like mine,” Ellie always thought sadly when visiting, reminded of her own peeling hallway wallpaper.
“Go on, then!” Lucy demanded again. She dumped sugar into a bowl of cream, grabbed a whisk, and fixed her neighbour with an expectant stare.
“What about your Rodney?” Ellie tried to sidestep.
“At a meeting. Wont be back for ages. Out with it!”
“Well, fine. I saw him at the market. And, well I picked him up.”
“How dyou mean?” Lucy frowned skeptically.
“I saw this man selling herbs. Decent-looking, in a trench coat, but a bit lost. I went over and asked, How much for the parsley? And he says, How about I just give it to you? I said, Why on earth? And he goes, I made a deal with myselfif a woman with sad eyes came up to me, Id give her everything for free. Take it, I grew it myself.”
“And then what?”
“So I took it. Turned to leave, then said, What made you think my eyes were sad? Theyre not sad at all. He just looked at me, quiet. Then he picked up my shopping bags and walked beside me.”
“And you just?” Lucy, forgetting the whisk in her hand, scratched her teased fringe with it.
“I walked along, trying to figure out what to do. Then I thoughtwell, hes clearly got nowhere to be. Might as well let him stay. We met on the way home.”
“Youre joking! You brought some random bloke off the street into your house? Did you even hide your valuables?”
“Lucy!” Ellie snapped. “Honestly! Hes a doctor, for heavens sake. A radiologist.”
“Oh yeah? Seen his ID, have you?”
“Listen, youre the one who told me” Ellie sighed, frustrated. “About the avocado.”
“What avocado?” Lucy looked baffled.
Ellies mind flashed back to that evening in this same kitchen
The avocado lay sliced before her in delicate green gradients, the wedges shifting from deep emerald near the skin to milky olive near the pit.
Ellie had never been good at picking avocados. Shed linger by the supermarket shelves, turning over the dark, glossy fruits, running her fingers over their bumps, pressing gently to guess their ripeness. Shed swap one for another, wasting minutes, trying to divine the perfect avocado by touch alone.
Sometimes, she thought shed cracked it. Shed hurry home with her prize (once learning, to her surprise, it was a berry, not a fruit or vegetable). In the kitchen, shed grab a knife and slice eagerlyonly for the blade to meet the resistance of an unripe lump. Those times, shed leave it on the counter, letting it soften into something edible over days.
But that night, the avocado on her plate was perfect. Lucy had bought itfar luckier in her choices. Ellie forked a slice, placed it gently on her tongue. A good avocado didnt need chewing; it melted, its buttery richness blooming with a whisper of hazelnut.
“Thats when you said you cant judge an avocado by its skin,” Ellie explained, snapping back to the present. “Or even by touch. You just have to feel it.”
“Whats that got to do with men?”
“Youve always had a knack for them. Like avocados. Not like me,” Ellie mumbled.
“And what did you feel about this Tom?” Lucy struggled to recall his name, still unimpressed.
“It just got quiet around him. Even with the market chaos. And I thoughtmaybe its alright that hes ordinary?”
“Right. Well, off you go. Wouldnt want him getting lonely.”
Lucy bustled Ellie out the door, sugar tin and all, then pressed her ear to the gap. A soft click from next door. Silence.
“Alright, then. Suppose theres a chance” She returned to her kitchen, finally plunging the whisk into the cake batter.
Meanwhile, Ellie stepped into her hallway to find Tom still therestill in her doughnut apron, now perched on a wobbly stool, pressing a strip of wallpaper to the wall.
“Sorry, I found this in the kitchen while looking for a jar for the parsley. And the glue was there too. Thought Id that alright?” He wobbled nervously.
Ellie lunged, lynx-quick, wrapping her arms around his unfamiliar legs. Under his dark jeans, she felt his knees, testing them like an avocado beneath its skin. To her surprise, the thought surfaced: “Mine.”
Tom stayed stillmaybe afraid to let go of the unset wallpaper, maybe not wanting to scare off something fragile but precious.
Finally, he lifted his hands from the wall and gently stroked Ellies fine hair.
“Do you like avocados?” she asked suddenly, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Love them,” Tom said honestly, though hed never tasted one.
And in that moment, they both felt itthe quiet rustle as the still-damp wallpaper settled over them. Or maybe it was happiness.
