• As I finished cleaning the closet, I noticed the floorboard. Memories flooded back into my mind immediately, and I couldn’t help but smile, reaching up to tuck stray strands of hair behind my ears. I’d grown it back out since our marriage, instead of the short, boyish cut I’d had it in during our senior year. It was down to my waist now, the seemingly unremarkable brown tresses glowing with red tints in a stray beam of sunlight streaming in through the window.

    When I reached over to the floorboard to pry it open, I was grinning full-out; the creaking was exactly the same as when I’d first pried it open to set the shoebox inside!

    “Oh, memories, memories . . . ,” I whispered gleefully. I’d become giddy and giggly, now that I had the box in my hands. I plopped backward onto my behind to examine it.

    “Adios!” I crowed, laughing. “Sweet!” I knew why I’d chosen that brand for the shoebox: my very first pair of ‘skater shoes’ were black Adios, with little pink ‘heartograms’ all over as a design. If Danny hadn’t been a skater back in the day, I would never have discovered the comfort of ‘skater shoes.’

    I reached over to my sweater, draped over the back of my chair, and fished around inside its pockets for my old pocketknife. “I’ve had you as long as I’ve had all this,” I murmured to the piece of cold steel. No, I was not crazy; I only thought aloud often.

    I flipped the blade open and cut the tape holding the lid to the shoebox, then set the knife down, before opening the “treasure chest.” As I settled for that nickname, I giggled again. “I’d loved ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ around that time, too…”

    I set the box down and took out the item that was on top: an old skateboard wheel. It was almost white on the sides, with the rest of it a very dirty gray.

    I remembered taking the wheel: it was when his board finally gave out and snapped in two, as he attempted a trick. ‘He’ being Danny, of course. Armando and I had burst out laughing when it happened: Daniel was running around, screaming that his heart was broken, an inside joke -- Armando, Daniel, and I spray-painted a giant red heart on the bottom side of Daniel’s board. After a few moments of Danny’s fit, he shrugged and ran over to me, scooping me up into his arms and kissing me sweetly on the lips.

    “He’d said, ‘My heart isn’t broken,’” I whispered, reaching up with my right hand and brushing the fingertips across the area of my chest over my heart. “’My heart is right there.’”

    Setting the wheel beside me on the light brown, wooden floor, I looked inside the box, at the Ziploc bag full of deep purple, dried up rose petals. “When I stayed with Grams,” I laughed breathlessly. Danny had picked the rose from a wild bush, pricking his thumb and forefinger by accident in the process. “I felt so bad, especially when he handed it to me…”

    A door slammed downstairs. “Mom?” a young boy’s voice floated up to my ears.

    “I’m in my room, Joseph!” I called back to him, inviting him up to join me, along with his little sister Evelyn.

    When the two filed in, their faces were slightly rosy from the cold weather outside. It was January, after all. I asked them how their day went, as it was heir first day back from winter break.

    Joseph looked into the box and snatched up an old photograph in its intricately designed frame. The frame was silver, taking the shape of an unrolled scroll, with a feather quill vertically positioned on its left side. The details were excruciatingly beautiful…

    “Auntie Laryna looks so… young here!” Evelyn blurted, looking at the picture over Joseph’s shoulder.

    I grinned and nodded. “That was at graduation,” I murmured thoughtfully. My children were both in elementary school; Evelyn a second grader, and Joseph a fourth grader. It was amazing how awed they were over a simple picture…

    “That was Daddy’s ‘Pet Mexican,’ sweets,” I told them, pointing to a George Lopez look-alike -- seriously -- in the picture. I rolled my eyes. Danny had claimed Jeys as The Pet Mexican, with Jeys playing along, amusing enough. “La migra!” I whispered, for old times’ sake. “Immigration,” I translated for the children.

    And of course…

    “It’s Mommy and Daddy!” Evelyn screeched, causing both Joseph and I to jump. Joseph rolled his eyes.

    “Stupid. Duh that’s Mom and Dad,” he mumbled. I flicked him lightly on the ear.

    “Play nice!” I scolded, flicking Joseph gently.

    I thought about all the differences in the friends in that picture: Armando -- a quiet-but-funny hispanic -- finally got his love, Laryna -- a half-asian girl who was such a big kid -- back, and they were engaged! ‘Uncle Arma and Auntie Lynna…’

    Anthony -- a dark-skinned dredlock-wearing goofball -- was my closest friend since the year 2000. He was my children’s godfather, and Breeanna -- an insanely short anime fanatic -- was their godmother.

    As the kids went off to do their homework, I reached back into the box and pulled out an old, worn piece of folded up notebook paper. “Ah… The Note,” I whispered, my voice shaky as I unfolded it.

    “‘I had no idea, I would’ve never thought that happened, no wonder you were so guarded. You know I love you, I would never let anything happen to you…,’” I read aloud softly.

    “‘Yours, Daniel,’” his voice sounded out from behind me. I whirled around to see the man I loved, the one whose eyes stared back at me from our children’s faces.

    “Welcome home,” I breathed, standing and hugging him tightly. He gently took the note from my hand when we pulled away.

    “Ah… I was so glad when you opened up to me about the rape,” Daniel whispered, his breaths tickling my forehead. I felt my face burn crimson in shame of what had happened all those years ago.

    Later, after dinner, Danny tucked the kids into bed and joined me on the wooden floor next to the Adios box. He rested his head against mine and pulled out the torn, orange wristband.

    “You’re first time to the Adventuredome, right?” he asked. I nodded and shrugged my shoulders heavily.

    “I sprained my wrist holding onto the harness on the rolly coaster,” I muttered, using my nickname for the ride. “I was terrified…”

    Danny laughed and nodded. “Your scream hurt my ears!”

    I shoved him hard and rolled my eyes.

    I ran my fingers over the last two items in the box: a movie ticket and a Post-It note.

    The Post-It read, “Neonopolis; 09/08/2007; 2:25PM showing; arrive at noon!”

    Danny snickered. “You still have a bad memory for little things. I can’t believe you had to write down the info for your own birthday gathering!” he teased. I shoved him again.

    “Well I… Shut up!” I mumbled, blushing. The movie ticket read, “Halloween; 09/08/2007; 2:25 P.M.”

    It was my first R-rated movie. On my seventeenth birthday, Danny, Armando, and Anthony were with me, to watch the ‘scary’ film…

    “That movie sucked,” I said solemnly. Danny nodded just as seriously.

    As I drifted to sleep that night, I recapped my walk down memory lane, the road to remembrance of the little things.

    I slept well that night.