Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Phoebe
Two Months Later
I move quickly and quietly up the rungs of the secret passage. Jay might guess I’m in here, but he’ll start in the library, and he’ll be wrong.
I pause to listen when I reach the wardrobe, but I don’t hear any other sounds. Good. He’s not onto me yet. I reach inside the wardrobe in a move I could do in my sleep now and pull myself in, landing with a barely audible thump.
Grinning because Jay’s going to have to eat pierogi for dinner again, I push open the wardrobe doors and promptly shriek as strong arms wrap around me and drag me all the way out.
“Found you.”
“You rat!” I say, pushing against Jay, who is laughing too hard to keep a good hold on me. “You scared me to death.”
“As long as you revive in time for dinner tonight.”
“Seriously, a hundred restaurants in this town and you want sandwiches.”
“You say that like it’s one food. Sandwiches are infinite food, Phoebe. Anything you can put between two pieces of bread, that’s a sandwich. The only limit is your imagination.”
“That doesn’t explain why you always get the Reuben.”
“Pastrami explains why I always get the Reuben.”
“Pierogi are also infinite food,” I tell him. “Infinite flavor combinations.”
“We’ve had pierogi the last two nights,” he says. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
My answer is a mature “Hmph” before I stalk back into the closet, but I smile as I climb down the rungs. Jay has moved into the cottage full-time, and we have routines. The good kind that make life stable and happy, like wagering stupid things for who gets to pick dinner.
I’m not surprised to find Jay waiting for me when I step out into the library, winded from running the long way down to beat me.
I flounce over to the sofa and plop down. “I will eat sandwiches.”
He flops into the armchair Professor Martinez always favors when he grazes before a board meeting. “What should we do with the rest of the day?”
It’s a Saturday, and we’ve decided to spend it here. We do that a lot because there’s something fun about being the only two people in a museum. During the week, six different people are in and out of the building all day, but until we officially open next February, Saturdays are silent here.
Unless Jay and I are playing a game of hide-and-seek for dinner-picking privileges.
I smile at him. “I’ll admit a turkey avocado sandwich sounds pretty good.”
He presses his hand to his heart. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m throwing you a bone because I’m too lazy to think of any more games.”
He chuckles at that. “Rummy with the Hathaways? ”
“They went to visit their son in Springfield.” We have a standing invitation to drop by for a game of cards. “We could invite one of our couple friends over for charades.”
He shoots me a knowing glance. “You just want Matteo to come over so he’ll bring cannoli.”
Guilty.
We fall into a comfortable quiet, and I’m somewhere between a daydream and a pre-nap when Jay shoots straight up.
“Truth or dare,” he says.
“What?” I ask, laughing. That’s not one we’ve played before.
“It’s perfect with two people. I dare you,” he taunts.
“Fine, but I’m picking truth every time so I don’t have to get off the couch.”
“Works for me. I’ll go first.”
“Truth or dare,” I say.
“Dare.”
“Uhhh, slide down the banisters, all three stories.”
He groans.
“You have to do it,” I say, sitting up, now interested in watching this ridiculousness.
He pushes himself up from the chair. “Fine.”
I follow him out and wait as he climbs to the top floor, finding myself the perfect spot to watch him come down every level. He peeks over the top banister. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He tries a few different approaches, finally deciding on the classic Home Alone method. I’m already grinning, watching how awkwardly he gets into position.
“Go!” I call.
He pushes off with his foot, but nothing happens.
“Go, you big chicken! ”
“I’m not slippy enough.” After some wiggling and a grunt, he starts inching himself down the rail like a caterpillar.
“Stop,” I beg through my laughter. “Please, I can’t breathe.”
“You’re going to regret this,” he says over the second-floor railing.
By the time he dismounts from the final banister, I’m a puddle on the floor. He stares down at me, smiling.
That stops the giggles. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Your turn,” he says sweetly. “And after all of that, I know you aren’t going to be a coward and choose truth.”
“I’m not?”
He holds his hand out to help me up, and when I’m on my feet, he leans down and says, “You’re not.” Then he drops a kiss on my forehead and walks past me to the library.
“All right,” I say, following him in. “Dare.”
He crosses his arms and glances around the library, thinking. Then he smiles again. “Phoebe Jane Hopper, I dare you to reenact your ladder performance from the time you broke into my grandad’s house.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
“I want the song and gestures and everything.”
“I can’t remember the song. That was months ago!”
He waves a hand dismissively. “Just sing about how Hayes is a loser, and that’s close enough.”
“Here we go, the full Belle.” I climb up a couple of rungs, hook my arm and leg for stability, and start singing. “This is a song about a guy I can’t remember, but it’s about how he’s an a—” But the lyric ends in a yelp when my push sends me gliding farther than I expect. I grab the ladder and hug it, my eyes squeezed tight, when it comes to a sudden but gentle stop.
When I look down, Jay is standing on the other side of it in the space created by the ladder’s incline, smiling up at me .
“That’s enough,” he says. “Dare complete. My turn. I pick truth.”
“Okay, uh …”
“I’ve got one,” he says. “I love you, Phoebe, and that’s the truest thing I know.”
My breath catches, and my heart speeds up. I move down a step until our faces are even between the rungs. I search his eyes, and there’s only gentleness, no teasing. “You do?”
He nods. “Big-time.”
“Big-time?”
He nods again. “Don’t worry, I won’t dare you to say it back. I can wait for you to catch up. I just wanted to say it.”
“You don’t have to.”
He shrugs. “I know. But this seems like the right time to tell you since this is how it all started.”
I reach through the ladder to curl my fingers into the flannel of his shirt. “I mean you don’t have to wait for me to catch up.”
“You …”
“I love you,” I confirm. “Big-time.”
His eyes are warm and steady as he gives me one more dare. “Seal it with a kiss?”
And so I do.