Chapter 31
I jump up and push the chair in, running to turn on the dining room light.
I shouldn’t try to make this situation more palatable for him, really.
But I don’t want to contribute to Adam’s idea that I’m not in my right mind.
Now that I know he really does think I’m unwell mentally—and damn him because I’m going to have to go to Amá Sonya now and tell her she was right! —I don’t want to contribute to it.
William walks in first. He spots me and pauses. “What’s up? Did you have to call the fire brigade?”
I shake my head. “It was off.”
Adam follows behind, holding a couple of bags in his arms. “Sky. We saw your car…is everything okay? The toaster oven—” He glances in the kitchen.
I repeat my words tonelessly. “It was off.” My arms are folded to try and stop my body from trembling with my anger.
Adam looks back at me and double-takes. “What’s—” His eyes land on the stack of papers in my trembling hands. I can see the pieces being put together in his brain as his face falls. “No. That isn’t—whatever you’ve seen there. It’s not what it looks like.”
“You mean you’re not writing an article about how fucking out of my mind I am?” I ask. “That’s not why you included the clinical definition of psychosis?”
“Psychosis?” William grunts, taking a seat in his armchair. “Who’s got psychosis?”
“According to Adam, I do.” I lift up my arm. “According to Adam, I’m beyond bananas. The only plausible theory for my disappearance is I ran away. Maybe I caught amnesia, but that’s pretty doubtful!” I shake the papers so forcefully, one or two drift right to the floor.
Adam runs a hand through his hair. “Sky. That was…it’s such an old draft…”
“I don’t care that it’s old! Actually, no. The fact that it’s old is worse, because you courted me while thinking I was missing half my brain!”
Adam closes his eyes. “I can’t, Sky. I can’t write the article you want me to write.
That right there is my old draft, and it’s going to change.
Immensely.” He sighs and looks at me. His eyes can only be described as pleading.
“But I can’t keep out everything that you don’t approve of.
I have to include citations, research, for all the possibilities.
I can’t just write that…old deities kept you alive back then.
That would never get published.” He takes a step toward me, but I take one back like I’m a mirror to him.
“I don’t think you’re missing half your brain.
Or any of it. This is just…a complicated subject. ”
I square my jaw. “I’m a human. I’m a person. I’m not a subject!”
Adam shakes his head and clenches his jaw. “This…this is why I knew it might not be wise to do this. You know, become…more than our professional roles—”
I barely hold back a gasp. “So you regret us now? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No! Of course not!”
William grunts in disapproval. “Could’ve fooled me, son. You’re going to push away another person who loves you? Just like you did with your siblings? Just like your father did when—”
“Don’t you dare tell me I’m like my father!” Adam bellows, and I startle enough to jump back farther away from him.
William lifts his hands. “Look at the way you’re behaving. It speaks for itself, son.”
“Gramps. I’m saying this nicely. Mind your business.” Adam turns back to where I was, but I’m now by the front door.
“Sky. Wait. Don’t leave.”
I huff. “I don’t like angry, yelling men. I didn’t know you were an angry, yelling man.”
Adam’s shoulders drop. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Gramps. I lost my temper. But this—this conversation is so unnecessary. It’s absurd. Just come read my new draft. You’ll see. I don’t mean these things the way they read in the one you’ve seen.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t make sense. Why is the old one still available, printed nice and tidily on the table?”
“Because I have to reference older drafts when I rewrite them. That’s all.” He walks toward the dining room, gesturing for me to follow him.
He looks so sure of himself. That I would just run toward him, like a na?ve puppy. It hits me then. That’s how he sees me now. Like a puppy. Like a child. Just like when he first saw me at the wedding, little animals in my arms, and he lectured me as though I were eleven years old.
Even if he’s written something new. Something truthful.
He went into this agreement in bad faith.
He knew he had planned on making me look insane.
Even if he’d changed his mind because he slept with me.
Does this mean we are one bad argument—this one bad argument, even—away from him thinking I’m insane again? Is that the kind of man he is?
I look down and take a deep, shuddering breath, willing myself to not burst into tears. “You cried the night William had the flu and you thought it was pneumonia.”
Adam glances up at me. “I’m sorry?”
“Right there. You sat in his chair and wept. Your face turns pink when you cry. Did you know that?” I point toward where William is. He’s still watching. Still listening. “And you use your wrists to wipe away your tears. It made me wonder if that’s how you cried since you were a little boy.”
Adam shakes his head and peers at me. “How did you—”
“And in the mornings, when you wake up, you always, always stretch everything. Even your toes. And then you drink a whole glass of water before breakfast. That’s your routine.
I don’t even know if you know it, but that’s what you do.
” I swallow. My voice is somehow steady still, even as tears run down my face.
“And you have several books on love letters.”
Adam shakes his head. “I—they—those books have been in storage for a long, long time.”
“I know. I was there when you put them in there.”
“No you weren’t. You were—” Adam pauses. “When I moved my stuff here into storage, when Gramps was sick. That was around three years ago. You were…you were missing then.”
“I was a ghost, Adam. I saw all manner of things.” I close my eyes.
“I had the biggest crush on you. When I was a spirit. And that one day, you had that girl over…the one with the black hair and the nose ring. You came here to check on William and make sure he was still breathing. You looked at me. You looked at me twice that night and I thought that meant that somehow we were connected. That if I had lived, you would be mine.” Okay, well.
My steady voice is now obliterated. I try to take shaky breaths between my sentences, but it’s difficult with all the sobbing.
“The things you doubt…the things that have happened to me that make you want to call me crazy…are the very things that brought us together. It’s what you made a goddamn list about, remember?
Those eyes you saw, watching you. They were my eyes.
” I push the tears from my face furiously.
“Isn’t that something? Isn’t that some shit? ”
Adam shakes his head firmly. “Sky, you just need to see what I’m working on now. Then you’ll know—”
“No. Because that won’t stop me from knowing how a part of you will always see me.”
We all turn our heads when scratching and banging begins at the door. It’s loud. Whatever it is, it’s big.
“What in the hell is that?” William stands up. “Don’t open it till I get my gun.”
I close my eyes and hold up my hand. “Don’t. It’s just Lily.”
“Who the hell is Lily?”
I open the door and even through my tears, I smile. “Lily’s a bear.”
She’s sitting on her hind legs. She must’ve felt my distress. The animals always do. I don’t know how, but they always have.
“Jesus! Shut the door, girl! I’ll get my gun!” William begins to dart away again.
“William! No. She’s—” It’s not accurate but I can’t think of a quicker way to make him understand. “She’s a friend. A really large, furry, kind friend.” I open the door wider and scratch her head. “See?”
William stares and then announces, “I’m going to bed. I’ve seen enough for today.”
As he walks toward his bedroom, Adam approaches. “Sky—”
“Don’t you dare come closer,” I say to him, and the tone of my voice makes Lily growl. Adam freezes. “I’ve said all I need to say to you.”
If Lily were a horse, I’d have gotten on her back and ridden into the dark woods as my smooth, cool exit.
But she’s not. So when I make my way out the door, I tell her I’m okay.
I give her a big hug and encourage her to stay away from humans for a while, especially these humans.
I’m not convinced about William and his gun.
In fact, I think, given his health, Adam needs to confiscate it.
But I don’t want to see Adam right now. Everything hurts so much, I think if he offers to let me read the newest version of his article, I might break and do it.
And I can’t let myself forget that this man will always be half-convinced that I’m not quite right, that I’m downright insane. And that is unacceptable.
After Lily has disappeared into the brush, I get in my car and park at Nadia’s, pretending Adam hasn’t been watching me the whole time from the window like a creeper.
I pretend like I don’t have plans to do exactly that once I’m inside.
The best view of the Noemis’ is from my old room.
I thought it was synchronistic, considering my huge crush on Adam, and then later, my concern for William’s well-being.
But now it just feels kind of pathetic. How much time I wasted, watching from my room once I returned. Including right now.
I guess I expect that the lights would go out in the house, one by one, like they normally do at bedtime.
But instead they stay on. I see their figures by the window here and there, either directly or their dark gray silhouettes.
It looks like they’re fighting and I hate that I’m so worried about them.
I’m scared I’m going to see William wielding a big gun soon, so I can’t tear away until it seems like all is calm.
But things just…escalate, I guess, though thankfully sans gun.
The front door opens and Adam rushes out.
My heart drops when I see a big duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
William marches out, yelling things I can’t make out from all the way over here.
Adam shouts things back, waving his arms about.
William keeps talking to him, lifting a fist in the air as Adam packs the bag into his Jeep.
There’s one more yelling match before Adam gets in the car and… drives away.
William stares down the dark, dimly lit street until maybe he can’t see the lights of Adam’s car anymore. And then he goes inside and slams the door shut.
I fall back on my old bed and remember what Adam had told me. Running away is his MO. When things get difficult…that’s what he does. He runs.
Where is he running to? I pray to the old gods it’s not a bar or a liquor store. Even though he’s no longer mine, I also pray it’s not to another woman. I’m too selfish to leave that out of my prayers.
I drag my feet up the stairs and once I’m in my room, I pull off my beautiful, sparkling gold dress and throw on a T-shirt that reaches my knees. I wash my face and brush my teeth. And when I reenter my room, I freeze.
Because it’s filled with owls.
Tiny, brown screech owls line my bed. Barn owls sit at the window slats by the sloped roof. One enormous great horned owl sits at the threshold of the open balcony door. “Hello?” I say. “Nice to see you.”
I don’t know what the owls are doing here, but I’m going to assume it’s similar to when I’m upset and bears or foxes or coyotes come. They are here for comfort. “Thank you for coming. But I’m okay.”
They all just stare at me with their enormous, dark eyes. I sit back on the bed and say, “Okay. I guess you can stay if you want. Just shut the door behind you when you leave, okay? I don’t want ghosts to get in here.”
I’m not making any sense. Ghosts don’t need an open door to get in anywhere. I should know that more than anyone. But I’m too emotional right now to be logical, even in my own thoughts. Everything aches. I close my eyes and will sleep to rescue me from my pain.
Thankfully it doesn’t take long for this prayer to be answered.