Carousel Ride

She had almost forgotten her hat while racing out the door. She had teetered with the idea all night and morning if she could bring herself to be so bold. They had only known each other a few months and logic had told her how fool-rushed it was. But the thumping in her chest rang in her skull each time her mind’s eye flashes that smile. It wasn't about perfect teeth, or perfect laugh, or perfect anything. But they were perfect together. Her heart had been swept up and she had given up the expectation that it could be returned to her unchanged. The question that had been sealed with a kiss the afternoon before had already been answered inside her. Of course she would. She would go anywhere with them. She had filled her mauve suitcase with the red stripes with all the clothes that it could hold, the money she had earned from all those nights in that sweaty kitchen, and her grandmother's locket. She couldn't just stand there while her hands twitched from the anticipation. Instead of waiting at the appointed spot in front of the carousel, she had jumped on with the same excitement as she had the first time her mother had walked her to the spinning masterpiece that held giraffes and elephants as well as horses. She had chosen the ostrich the first time. But her shaking knees now made her feel unsteady and so she held on to the cart. Waiting, watching, and ignoring the doubts that crept into the question that tickled her ears, "What if they don't come after all?"