“Elsetime.”
“That’s not even a word,” he says, sidetracked.
“I know. I just made it up. Go on.”
“Okay, fine, we were married elsetime. Anyway, we died of whatever you die from, let’s say natural causes. But we were in love, so our souls keep finding each other in whatever forms our bodies take.”
“Are you Hindu or something?” I ask, avoiding the fact that my stomach is in knots from hearing his beautiful theory.
“No, we used to be Catholic. But I did have a religion class at my last school that exposed us to different ideas. I think the concept of reincarnation is a good one.”
“If you’re Catholic, shouldn’t you believe in heaven and hell and all that?”
“I said I used to be Catholic,” he replies.
“No heaven then, huh?” I press on.
“Who knows until we experience it? I think that heaven and reincarnation are both ways of making us feel better about what happens to people’s souls after death. I hope at least one of them is true. I don’t like to think about being worm food.”
“Yeah, I don’t really like to think of death at all,” I reply truthfully.
We’re both quiet for a few minutes, and then Luke breaks the silence. “I think you’re supposed to save the death discussion until at least the third date.” We chuckle halfheartedly and Luke rolls onto his back again.
Trying to lighten the mood, I ask, “What were our names?”
“Our names?” Luke says, sounding confused.
“Yes, our names. Elsetime. When we were madly in love and married and all that.”
“It sounds so cheesy when you say it like that.” Luke looks away for a few seconds, and I imagine that he’s blushing, but I can’t be sure.
“No,” I say quickly. “I like it. Don’t be embarrassed.”
He looks back into my eyes and we’re locked there for a few moments. And then, before I can worry about what he’s doing, Luke leans over and kisses me. Barely there at first, then more purposeful, the kiss is soft and electric at the same time. It’s so perfect that, before it’s over, I’m heartbroken that I won’t remember it.
When we part, Luke’s eyes stay on mine. The moment is more intense than even he knows; I look away.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Was that bad?”
Quickly, I meet his gaze again. “No!” I say a little too loudly. “Not at all. It was amazing.” I’m glad to be in the dark; I can feel my face flush.
“Good,” Luke says. “Because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
“Well, I’m glad you did,” I reply with a grin. Maybe it’s the acknowledgment of the situation, but at once I feel silly. Luke might, too: he eases onto his back again, careful to leave room for me to cuddle close.
There’s an awkward silence again.
Until I throw a rock through it.
“So elsetime… I think my name was Heloise. Or Elizabeth. No, I’ve got it. I was Caroline.”
Luke waits a beat, and then joins the game. “That’s a good one,” he responds earnestly. “And I was Benjamin.”
“Or William,” I interrupt.
“Oh yeah, that’s good, too. I was William. I was a stonemason.”