a picture of the future

  I pushed open the squeaky screen door and stepped out onto the porch, only intending to steal a moment away from the painting, and get some fresh air for my crying lungs.  But the chill in the air was just enough to make my cheeks tingle with cold, so I stayed there a bit longer.
  It was one of those fall days when you walk outside and feel like Charlie Brown or one of the peanuts.  When you know that somewhere, someone is jumping into a giant pile of leaves, or taking a long walk through a picturesque wood.  The smell of fallen leaves and late summer blew on the gentle breeze.  There was a crisp, cool nip in the air that hinted at the chilly night it would bring, but with the sun still up, was not cold enough to permeate my sweatshirt.  The school crest had faded years ago, but could still be faintly seen if you looked close enough.
  I fingered the cuff of one of the faded sleeves and smiled at the way things had turned out.  I was never the sentimental, picture-perfect-family seeking kind of girl.  In fact, my pessimistic attitude more often than not kept me from envisioning anything good for my future, but somehow everything had turned out fine; better than I had ever hoped.  I sat down on the worn wooden steps and looked back over the years and how everything that had happened seemed so perfectly… like a giant puzzle that fell into place one piece at a time.
  Looking back it seemed like it had all gone so quickly, but at the same time, so much had happened in that time, it seemed a wonder that it all fit into those few years.  My mind flipped through my photo album of memories, and I wondered at the perfection in the master plan of it all.  A small part of me marveled at how much I had changed; how much I had grown up.  Me.  Grown up.  I never thought it would happen, but as I sat there, watching the rich, golden sun and its last few rays slip behind the trees in the distance, I knew it was a small price to pay.
  Of all the scenarios I had played out for my life, none of them were like this.  I wondered why none of them had been.  I wondered how I had missed all of the hints and signs pointing toward how my life would turn out.  Every difficulty had been a test.  Every situation, a challenge.  Every hardship, a trial.  And in the end, each of them had taught me something that had in some way prepared me for the future.
  My thoughts were interrupted by the faint creek of the door opening behind me, and footsteps that came to sit beside me.  We stayed there in silence for a time, sitting close, enjoying the view.
  "Whatcha thinkin' about??" he asked in his soft voice I'd trained myself to hear.  He always knew when I had something on my mind.  More often than not, he knew what it was, but he always enjoyed making me tell him.  Just one of the little games he liked to play.  He always had.
  "Oh, nothing…" I said nonchalantly, still watching the sun set.  He always hated when I wouldn't look him in the eyes.  It was one thing I held over him, and I loved it.  I'd always thought it was funny when he got frustrated with me, and he knew it.
  "Mmmm… yah right." He said, nudging me in the arm.  "Come on, spill it."
  I didn't respond.  He didn't say a word, but I felt him watching me through the waning light of dusk.  I didn't have to look back to know a half-smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he was trying to read my mind.
  "Ooh," he finally said, knowingly, "the llama shortage is bugging you again.  I see."
  I couldn't help but laugh.  The seriousness in which he had said it was too much for me.  I looked at him, and his face was one of complete earnestness, but there was laughter in his eyes.  I took his hand and put my head on his shoulder.  It was starting to get chillier out now, without the late-afternoon rays of the sun, but I didn't seem to notice.  He put a strong arm around me, and for a moment, everything seemed perfect; almost too perfect to be real.
"We've come a long way, haven't we??" he commented.  "Who would have guessed things would turn out like this??"
  I didn't need to answer.  I wasn't supposed to.  I smiled as we sat in silence, watching the orange horizon fade to pink, and from pink into a deep, rich purple.
He had known all along.