Chapter 7
“Are you okay?” Nora asked, then felt ridiculous.
Everett obviously wasn’t okay. He was lying face-down in the hallway, one arm cushioning his head, the rest of his limbs splayed.
He wore his usual winter jacket and hat, and something in her twisted.
Her mind flashed back to three years ago, when mother had collapsed.
They’d spent their last Christmas together in the hospital.
Since Brianna had had a baby and a toddler at home, much of the care had fallen to Nora.
His eyelids fluttered. “Um…ugh…”
At least he was conscious.
“Don’t worry.” She tried to sound calm, tried not to show the panic she still felt. “I’m calling an ambulance. You—”
“No. Don’t need…ambulance.” His voice was weak.
“Are you drunk?”
“No.” He struggled to sit. He was sweaty and pale.
“Do you know what happened?”
He nodded, though he didn’t provide any details. “Need…food.”
He started to get up, but his legs didn’t seem strong enough.
“Hand me your keys,” she said.
When he passed them over, she opened the door and dragged him inside. It was no small feat, as he weighed a lot more than she did.
Finally, she had him settled against the door. She went to the fridge and found a container with two slices of pizza. She didn’t bother to warm them up; she took the container right to him.
“This okay?” she asked, sitting down on the floor next to him.
In response, he picked up a piece and took a bite.
“Mis…calculated,” he said. “Wanted to make it…extra nice…for you.”
Nora had no idea what he was talking about. Or maybe he had no idea who she was.
She decided not to clarify what he meant.
She still didn’t know what was wrong, and she wouldn’t ask.
He didn’t owe her any medical information, but whatever this was, it seemed like it had happened before, and after half a slice of pizza, he did look better.
She hoped it was nothing serious, yet she kept thinking of the worst-case scenarios.
“Water?” she asked.
When he nodded, she stood up again. She quickly located a water bottle next to the advent calendar in the kitchen, and she brought it back to him.
“Thank…you.”
She had the sudden urge to run her hand through his hair, to comfort him with her touch. But they didn’t have that sort of relationship, and so she kept her hands to herself.
She also wanted to tell him that she’d appreciated his company lately—it was helping her get through a difficult season, full of bad memories. But she didn’t say that, either.
“You can go,” he said. “Okay now.”
“No, not yet. A few more minutes.”
He didn’t argue, just finished the second slice of pizza in a few bites before guzzling half the bottle of water.
“Do you need anything else to eat?” she asked.
“Granola bar. Above the sink.”
She had to stand on her toes to reach the shelf. She brought the whole box, just in case.
“Help yourself,” he said as he opened one up. Despite his condition, he was still trying to be a decent host.
She shook her head.
The left corner of his mouth hitched up. “Maybe your friend…would like one.”
This was when Nora realized, in horror, that Dino was tucked under her armpit.
“A Christmas present from my nephew,” she said.
“Sure it was.”
She glared at him.
“How was your early Christmas celebration?” he asked.
He was rapidly improving, his voice much clearer than it had been five minutes ago. She’d feel comfortable enough to leave him soon. Still…
“You just passed out in the hallway,” she said. “We’re talking about you. Not me.”
“Hm.” That was his only response before he returned to crunching on the granola bar.
He brushed a crumb from his beard before his gaze dropped down.
Was he looking at her hippo pajama pants?
She couldn’t help wishing she’d worn her plaid ones, but how the hell could she have known that she’d see anyone tonight?
Nora was suddenly conscious of her gray waffle shirt—her nipples were probably visible. She wished she didn’t care about that, but she did. She crossed her arms over her chest, which squished Dino against her breast.
But that wasn’t important right now; what mattered was making sure Everett was safe.
“Can you stand up?” she asked.
When he nodded, she got up and offered him a hand. He took it, his large hand engulfing hers, and staggered to his feet. He managed to remove his jacket and boots.
“I’m going to go,” she said. “But if you need anything…here, let me put my number in your phone. You can text me.”
He handed over his phone, and the left side of his mouth curved up again. “You’re giving me your number? You must—”
“Shut it.” She placed a finger to his lips.
The softness and warmth of his lips caught her off guard. She immediately withdrew and curled her fingers into a fist so they wouldn’t tingle.
Was there anything else she should tell him? Her mind was suddenly blank.
Ah. Right.
“Text me when you wake up,” she said. “Let me know you’re okay.”
“Will do.”
She gave him one last look before heading back across the hall, Dino in her arms. Although she didn’t expect to fall asleep right away, sleep pulled her under almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Everett opened his eyes. His bedroom was unusually bright, and he glanced at his alarm clock.
1:05 p.m.
Holy crap. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in so much.
He was lying on top of his quilt, and he was still wearing his jeans and sweater. As he sat up, the events of last night slowly returned to him.
He’d gone to a park in the east end, as planned, and made the sculpture.
It had taken him a long time, and he’d barely managed to catch the last subway train.
His head had pounded the whole ride home, a sign he’d overexerted himself.
He’d drunk the juice and eaten the trail mix he’d brought with him, but even with all the pizza he’d consumed earlier, it hadn’t been enough.
He’d told himself he was okay, he just had to make it home.
It was only ten minutes, if that, from the station.
But the short walk had taken a lot out of him, and he’d collapsed by his door.
Everett typically tried to be very careful, to make sure he had enough energy for the magic he intended to conduct. He hadn’t had any incidents in years…until last night, when Nora had found him in the hallway.
How embarrassing.
His memory of what happened next was a little foggy, but he vaguely remembered eating pizza while sitting on the floor, and he remembered her concern.
The furrow between her brows. The fuzzy dinosaur under her arm.
The way she entered her number into his phone and made him promise to text when he woke up.
Her bossiness had been rather hot.
That should have been the furthest thing from his mind ten minutes after collapsing, but he remembered thinking it. He also recalled how her finger had felt against his lips. When she’d snatched her finger back, much to his disappointment, the feeling had lingered.
Not wanting her to worry, he pulled out his phone.
Everett: Just got up. Thank you for looking after me last night.
Her reply came not thirty seconds later.
Nora: How are you feeling?
Everett: I’m doing fine
He couldn’t tell her what had been wrong, but he could say that much. He really was fine now, aside from the fact that he’s slept on his shoulder funny. But he was well rested, and as soon as he had a shower, he’d feel refreshed.
Nora: There’s another snow sculpture. I know we talked about seeing it together, but if you’re not well enough, I understand.
Everett: No, I’m up for it. How’s two thirty?
Nora met him in the hallway. Unlike last night, she wasn’t accompanied by a plush dinosaur.
She looked him up and down with an assessing gaze. Everett wished she were checking him out, but he knew she was trying to evaluate his health.
“Are you sure you can handle it?” she asked.
“I’m sure.”
She tapped her cross-body bag. “I’ve got food and water in here if you need it.”
He was touched that she was looking out for him. He’d brought some trail mix too, just in case, though he didn’t expect any problems.
When he’d first met Nora—a week or two after he moved in, if he remembered correctly—they exchanged only a few words. Enough for him to get the impression that she was rather aloof. And that was fine.
But in the past week or so, he’d seen a different side of her, and now, he wanted to spend more and more time in her presence.
“How was your Christmas celebration?” he asked as they stepped into the elevator.
She gave him an odd look.
“Oh, did I ask that last night?” He frowned. “I don’t remember your answer, sorry.”
“Because I didn’t answer. Anyway, it was good.”
“There wasn’t too much Christmas music and cheer for you?”
“Well, there were some very creative lyrics to the tune of ‘Jingle Bells.’”
“The Batman ones?”
“Slightly different from any Batman lyrics I’d heard before, though it was hard to tell. Even though they sang it at least a dozen times, there was too much laughter to make out all the words.”
He smiled at the image. “How old are the kids?”
“My niece is five and my nephew is three. My sister’s kids.”
“This is the nephew who gave you the dinosaur?”
“I was hoping you’d forget about that,” she muttered.
“I didn’t. In fact, I got your dino a little gift.” Just something he’d found it in his closet.
“How disturbing.”
“Please hold your judgment until you see it.”
“I’ll try,” she huffed, but her lips twitched.
It took them more than forty-five minutes to get to the latest sculpture, owing to a mechanical issue on the TTC.
All the other times they’d gone to see the snow sculptures, it had been dusk, but now, the sun shone brightly and it was difficult to get a good look at the sculpture because of the large crowd.
“Dammit, I’m too short,” Nora said.
“I could carry you.”
“Ha.”
He’d been joking, but had she wanted, he would have acquiesced.
When a group moved aside, he and Nora took their place, and she had no trouble seeing past the small children in front of her.
“I didn’t think there would be one today,” she said. “The others were three days apart, so I figured it would be tomorrow.”
“Maybe they’re trying to be unpredictable.”
In her subsequent silence, he couldn’t help wondering if she had any suspicions about him—he’d come home late last night, and the next morning, a snow sculpture had appeared—but she gave no indication of it.
“What do you think?” he asked, gesturing to the two rabbits and their mugs of hot chocolate. The rabbits were sitting by a fireplace.
“I just can’t believe this was all done in one night, and nobody saw it happening. In this day and age, there’s always someone with a phone around.”
“Yeah, it does seem unlikely.”
“Yet it’s here. The sculptures are real, and that’s what I care about. In a world where people are always trying to get you to believe things that aren’t true… they’re real.”
She spoke the last part with such conviction, and it sent a chill down his spine.
Or maybe that was the gust of wind.
“A bit of Christmas magic,” he murmured. It was truer than she could know.
She took a few pictures, and then they walked back to the subway. On the way, she absently picked up some snow and made a snowball with her mittened hands. She threw it at the trunk of a tree.
Back in their apartment building, outside their respective doors, he hesitated after putting his key in the lock. “Nora,” he said, his voice weirdly scratchy, “would you like to come in? For hot chocolate or hot buttered rum?” He paused. “As a thank you for last night.”
As he waited for her response, his heart thumped wildly.
She didn’t smile, but she did give him the answer he’d hoped to hear.
“Yes.”