Forty Days and Nights: Love Stories. 12. Happy Place

Once there was a boy who lived in a scone. He loved it there. He could stretch out full length, and it was soft and squishy inside the scone. He loved the golden-crisp outside. He was really very happy. When he met the girl he was excited to show her the scone, and he happily anticipated her pleasure at the golden-crisp outside and he wondered, nervously, how they might enjoy the soft squishiness. He didn't tell her too much about the scone before they got there; he didn't want to spoil it, as it were.

What she said was, What's with all the honey and butter?

Truth be told, he had never thought much about the butter, or the honey. It's what happens if you live in a scone. He said, It's butter and honey. It's what happens it you live in a scone.

She said, How on earth do you manage?
He said, Manage what?
She said, You'd be sticky all the time, while he said, Well, I guess I'm sort of sticky all the time, and they said it at the same time.
It was not a fight, but it was getting to be sort of like a fight.
He said, What's wrong with butter and honey, anyway?
She didn't even bother to answer.
He said, Well, where do you live that's so great?
She said, I live in a ham and Swiss sandwich, myself.
Oh, he said, oh, what's so fine about that? It came out meaner than he meant it to, but he was sad she hadn't at all noticed the golden-crisp outside.
She said, Well, if you really want to know.
He said, I really want to know.
She said, I enjoy the stability, and I love the organic shapes.
The what? he asked and he was sarcastic. The organic shapes? Like what, the shape of lettuce? He was out of line, but his pride was hurt and he was very disappointed about the soft and squishy part of this day that wasn't happening.
Now she was trying not to cry. Organic shapes, she said. Round. Curving. Swiss cheese has lovely round holes, she said with dignity.

And that was the end of that.

Later, of course, they got to talking again. They were looking at places that were available and he thought it was mighty doubtful she would ever be happy anywhere that wasn't thinly sliced and one hundred per cent whole wheat. With port holes for windows, he thought with just an edge of bitterness.

But then.

She was all starry eyed and he was looking from her face to the place and back again. This? he asked, this is a place you could be happy? Oh, yes, she breathed, yes. Look at the wonderful golden-crisp outside. WHAT? he said, you like that?
I love it, she said, simply. Look at the stability, the organic shape.
Soft, he thought, soft and squishy, and golden-crisp outside.

They moved into the unglazed doughnut and lived there very happily indeed. People said they made a mistake not holding out for a bagel, but they knew their own hearts, and were well contented and satisfied. Anyway, she said with a shudder, all that cream cheese.
Yes, he said, who needs it?