Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Love is my puppy running to me first when we get home.
From the sticky note correspondence of Gilbert Dalton and Ellie Sterns:
Eleanor—
Would it be possible for you to close the kitchen cabinets after you open them?
Thank you.
—Gilbert
P.S. Can you pick a day and time for us to go through Ollie’s room?
Gil—
That seems kind of nit-picky, doesn’t it? I haven’t said a word about the toilet seat.
—Ellie
P.S. Sure. I’ll check my calendar and get back to you.
Eleanor—
That’s because I am always considerate enough to put the toilet seat down. You even left the microwave door open. I banged my head on it this morning.
—Gilbert
P.S. Right. Your calendar. Is it the same place you keep your keys?
“So, every Friday, he leaves?” Mae asked as she refilled her roller with a pale-green paint with the fanciful name of Sage Wisdom.
But like every time she’d reloaded, she got more paint on herself and the plastic protecting the floors than on the roller.
Mae was good at a lot of things. Turns out painting was not one of them.
“And comes back Sunday afternoon.” I reached up from my spot on the stepladder to cut in the paint on the top edge of the ceiling. Because I am good at painting.
“Where do you think he goes?”
“Austin. Or at least that’s what his notes say.”
“Notes?” Ali asked, peeking out from the closet where she was painting. “He leaves you notes?”
I shrugged. “We leave each other notes.”
“That’s kind of sweet,” Mae said.
“It’s not sweet,” I said. “It’s a form of communication. Like smoke signals or telegraph.”
Mae hummed.
I half turned to face her. “There will be no humming. It’s not a big deal.”
“What could be in Austin?” Ali jumped out of the closet that she’d been giving a fresh coat of paint. “Oooh. We could follow him one of these Fridays and see where he’s going. It could be a stakeout. I already have a stakeout outfit.”
“No,” Mae and I said at the exact same time.
“Mayors do not spy on people. It’s impolite,” Mae said.
“And probably illegal,” I added.
“You all suck the fun out of everything.”
“Someone has to keep you reined in,” Mae muttered. “Lord knows Theo would let you get away with almost anything.”
Ali’s grin was practically wicked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Mae snorted. “Yeah.”
Ali hopped over to the stepladder and looked up at me. “But how are things with him there? How is Oliver with the new roommate situation?”
“Oliver loves him. In fact, I think Gil may be his favorite person right now. They talk dinosaurs.” Which was fine. It wasn’t like I wanted to talk about dinosaurs, but also, I at least wanted to be asked to talk about dinosaurs.
Sunny and I were going to have a talk about these feelings of jealousy.
“Oliver follows Gil around, too. Reminds me a little of how he was with Ollie.”
“They were so cute together,” Mae said. “Remember that Halloween Oliver insisted Ollie dress up with him?”
Ali giggled. “Ollie in that chicken costume will forever live rent-free in my mind.”
“Oliver was so excited. He has a picture of the two of them in those chicken get-ups in his room.” I grinned.
“Ollie as Santa Claus was the best. I appreciated Chris dressing up this year, but I don’t think Oliver bought it when I said Santa must have eaten all his vegetables to grow a whole foot in a year. ”
Mae sniffled. “I miss Ollie.”
“Please don’t start crying,” I said. “Then I’ll start.”
“I’m sorry. These stupid hormones. I am all over the place.”
“She cried yesterday when I told her the library budget has been approved,” Ali said. “Bawled her eyes out right there in her office.”
“Shut up,” Mae grumbled, swiping at her cheeks.
Time to change the subject or we’d all be in a puddle. “Gil has a motorcycle,” I blurted out.
“A motorcycle?” Ali pursed her lips. “Wasn’t that on your list of no-no’s when it comes to men?”
I scoffed. “I’m not interested in him like that.”
Mae shot Ali a look that said, who’s lying now?
Whatever. I wasn’t interested in him that way.
“I heard he’s going to start subbing at the elementary school,” Mae said.
I hadn’t heard that. Not once was it mentioned in a single sticky note conversation. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized our relationship was very one-sided. “He knows a lot more about me than I know about him. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Have you asked him about him?”
I froze mid-paint stroke. “Yes. Sort of. Maybe?”
“You should,” Ali said. “When you get home, go right up to his bedroom door and demand some answers.”
“Or maybe just casually bring it up next time you see him,” Mae said dryly.
“Fine,” Ali muttered. “Do that.”
“Maybe I will,” I said. I set my roller down and hopped off the ladder. “Is it time to eat yet? You bribed me with pizza and cheesecake.”
“God, yes. Let’s go eat,” Mae said.