Page 19 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper

Chloe

Twenty years ago

Oliver had been Chloe’s best friend for all her life, but on the day she turned twelve, everything changed, at least for her.

Her party had been at the Ice Creamery, of course. Each year, Chloe got to request any flavor she could dream up and her parents would make it for her and put it into an ice cream cake. It went without saying that Oliver had input; Clover never did things alone if they could help it.

The weeks leading up to Chloe’s birthday had been full of brainstorming and lists of flavor combinations, all conceived on the fuzzy rug in the middle of her bedroom floor.

“I like the chocolate and peanut butter brittle idea,” Oliver said. “Or chocolate and cherry pie?”

Chloe smiled to herself. Oliver always chose the ones with chocolate.

“How about pawpaw and coconut?” she asked. “Or mulberry with granola bits?”

Oliver chewed on the inside of his cheek, a sure sign he was contemplating deeply. “Those are the final four?”

She looked over the sheets of notebook paper strewn in front of them. They had started with close to a hundred possibilities and slowly eliminated them one by one. Now only a handful were left, uncrossed out.

“Yeah… I think those are the top four.”

Per tradition, though, Chloe got final say, and it would be a surprise for Oliver on her actual birthday.

So a week later, when her parents brought out the cake, he leaned forward in his chair more than any of the other kids, even though they, too, were eager to find out what Clover had come up with this year.

They all sang “Happy Birthday”—slightly off-key—but before Chloe blew out the candles, she caught Oliver’s eye.

He was smiling at her, and even though he was excited about the cake, she also knew he would wait a century for her to blow out those candles if that’s what she wanted.

The realization sent an electric zing through her body, the little hairs on her arms prickling up on her skin.

“Make a wish,” he said.

“And make it a good one, Lo-Lo,” her dad said. “A dozen candles is a powerful wish.”

Chloe nodded, although she’d barely heard her dad.

She was still staring at Oliver, who suddenly looked different than he’d ever seemed before.

Maybe it was the candlelight making a halo around his head, or maybe it was the way he was smiling— their smile, the right corner of his mouth a tiny bit higher than the rest, the secret look that Oliver reserved solely for her in their quiet moments together.

She turned her attention back to the candles, which were starting to burn low, dripping wax onto the surface of her cake. Chloe closed her eyes.

I wish he would love me.

Then she opened her eyes and blew out all the flames in a single breath.

Her mom cut the cake. “Chocolate ice cream with a mulberry jam swirl!”

Oliver grinned, then ran over to Chloe and threw his arms around her, squeezing her tight. “You mashed two of our ideas together. It’s brilliant.”

The first slice was set down in front of them, with two forks like always.

I’m going to marry you someday, Chloe thought. And this will be the flavor of our wedding cake.