Page 25 of Red Zone Realizations
Noah pulls me toward it, and I follow.
“I hope you aren’t disappointed in this meal after The Lush.”
“No way. I love McDonald’s, and I’m starving. I would eat anything at this point.” Which is maybe how this Micky D’s has been here so long.
We approach the counter where a lone employee is waiting to take our order. Her nametag says Natalie. Noah shuffles mein front of him so I can go first. “Hi, can I please get a McChicken and a double cheeseburger?”
The woman puts the order into the computer. “And to drink?”
“A Coke.”
Noah steps up and I can feel his whole body behind me. “I’ll have a twenty-piece nugget meal and nine sweet and sour sauces.”
“And for your drink?”
“Sprite.”
“Okay, perfect. You can put your card in the reader when it blinks green.”
Noah pays and I collect our cups. Normally I would try and insist we go Dutch, but I was too distracted by hunger. It was all I could do not to drool.
We sit at a table, and it feels odd to be here alone compared to how packed this place usually is.
Natalie comes out with our tray of food. She has deep brown eyes and even darker hair pulled back under her McDonald’s hat. “Thank you,” we both say.
I set to work getting my meal ready. Opening both the sandwiches and putting the chicken in the middle.
Noah catches on. “Seriously? A McGangBang? What are you? Twelve?”
I stiffen, ready to defend myself. “I used to get them all the time when it was cool, but grew out of them. Like two years ago I realized I was still ordering the same thing anyway, and I just went back to putting them together. They’re not full-size sandwiches, so two basically equals one anyway.” I glare pointedly at his huge pile of sauces. “Like you can talk.”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “I can’t even defend myself. I love this shit.”
“There is a certain je ne sais quoi about McNuggets at the science museum.”
“Tastes like childhood,” he agrees, putting a whole nugget in his mouth and I giggle.
We down our food in record time and start to clear the table.
Noah looks at me. “Are you ready for my favorite part?”
“The only thing we haven’t done yet are the butterflies.”
“I couldn’t tell you why, but yeah, they’re my favorite.” He reaches around to rest his hand on the back of his neck. “Maybe it’s the atmosphere or the beauty?”
I roll my lips between my teeth. This man is literally perfect. “It’s my favorite part too.”
The first thing that hits you in the butterfly exhibit is the humidity. I can feel my hair immediately poof. Houston’s humidity is no joke, but in here it’s cranked to ten. I bask in the familiar feeling. The smell is different. The vegetation is more exotic than the normal grass that colors the summer.
It looks the same as it did when I was a kid. The stairs are bordered by walls made to look like stone, and the tropical trees reach high above our heads.
I grab an identification card from the holder, look over at Noah and smile, preparing myself for the magic.
Chapter Twelve
NOAH
My mom used to bring me here when I was younger, maybe when I was eight. It was our thing. We’d go on a Saturday morning when football season was over, and we’d be so excited if it coincided with them having a new exhibit. She always said my dad got so many Saturday mornings with me because of football, she wanted to have something for just the two of us to bond over too. I’ve seen many different exhibits over the years, including death by natural causes and extreme weather. Mom would move as fast or as slow as I wanted through all the physical exhibits on the right side of the building. Then we’d eat at this same McDonald’s. She’d ask me what my favorite thing we saw was while I munched on my kid’s meal. Back then, dinosaurs were my favorite, but now that I’m older I realize it’s always been butterflies for me. The amount of money and work it takes to keep these butterflies and plants happy and healthy must be exorbitant. The balance of the food and the air and all the living things are so delicate. Yet the staff here just does it. All for beauty and joy.
