Chapter 15 #2
“Only on Sundays. Viv, Iris’s aunt, owns a clothing store and she needed help to run it on Sundays, so I offered to do it. It’s a lovely store. You never want to leave once you step inside. It’s just something about the atmosphere.”
Clara is silent.
“Hello? You still there?”
“I’m here,” she says, sounding different. “That sounds amazing, Juju.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. I do.”
I feel my face stretch into a smile. “Yeah, me too.”
“I have to go catch some oysters now, but we’ll talk again soon, okay?”
“Definitely. I love you, Clara. And I miss you. So much. Thanks again for the T-shirt. I’m never taking it off.”
“You better not. It’s the coolest T-shirt ever. I love you, Juju. And I miss you even more. I hope we’ll see each other soon.”
“Me too.”
I sit for a while with the phone in my hand. Clara doesn’t understand. I’m not doing anything to hurt Cactus. Keeping her when we don’t get along and forcing her to live in a city like New York wouldn’t be right. That would hurt her.
As I pass Cactus on the couch, I stop and watch her for a moment. She totally ignores me, lying there all soft and fluffy.
“Yeah, you’re definitely better off with someone else,” I mumble before I continue to the bathroom.
We spend the day at home. Me in the garden and Cactus on the couch. Once in a while, she peeks out the open door, maybe to check if I’m still there or if she’s finally gotten rid of me. But unfortunately for her, I’m always there—kneeling in front of a rose bush or mowing the lawn.
Next year, I’ll plant some sweet peas in the backyard, next to the patio. I can already imagine sitting there, reading a (spicy) book, sipping coffee, surrounded by the loveliest scent in the world.
I freeze. What am I doing? I won’t be here next year. Jeez, June. Get a grip. I shake myself to get rid of any confusing thoughts before refocusing on watering the herbs I planted the other day.
It’s strangely quiet outside, not even the birds are making any noise. The stillness is unnerving; something feels off about the whole atmosphere. Dark, thick clouds tower in the sky, maybe rain is coming?
And yes, the first drop hits my forehead the moment I’m done trimming the currant bushes.
Talk about timing. It’s late afternoon, and I barely make it onto the porch before it starts pouring.
I lean against the doorframe and sigh in happy relief, because I realize that watching a heavy summer rain, filling your nose with its very distinct scent, is more soothing than hours of therapy.
I go inside to get a blanket and my book, bringing them with me outside where I curl up on the porch swing.
I don’t know how long I stay there, but it’s gotten dark, and I’ve started to freeze by the time I decide to go back inside.
Cactus is still on the couch, looking more like a pretzel than ever.
For a brief moment, I consider walking over to her and touching her fluffy fur.
Maybe it’s because of what Clara said about losing a family member, or maybe it’s because of guilt—I don’t know.
But ultimately, I choose not to. She doesn’t look like she would want me to, anyway.
Instead, I make us dinner while listening to the storm intensify outside. The rain hits the windows like thousands of small nails.
Cactus isn’t interested in any dinner, which isn’t like her. I try to lure her with treats, too, but she ignores me. Maybe she’s just tired.
“Okay, but I’ll put one here in case you change your mind,” I say, placing a treat on the other end of the couch. She doesn’t seem to care.
It starts to thunder when I set my first foot in the shower, and the bathroom is momentarily illuminated by a roaring lightning strike. Wow, it’s a real thunderstorm. Not the kind of day you’d want to watch a horror movie all by yourself. Not that I was about to, but still.
I take my time under the hot water, thoroughly scrubbing away all the dirt on my knees and elbows.
And afterwards, I carefully apply all the fancy products I own for both my hair and skin.
By the time I’m finished, I feel like a new person.
I brush out a satisfied breath as I put on fresh underwear.
I’ve been wearing the swim lace thong and sports bra all day.
I notice that something is wrong the moment I leave the bathroom. Very wrong. Why is it so cold in here? And why does it feel empty?
I jump when the front door slams. Didn’t I close it before? A cold shiver snaps my spine straight. I run to the living room—only to find an empty couch. An empty couch and a dog treat left on it.
“Cactus!” I shout. “Cactus!”
An ominous feeling seeps through me like poison as I rush through the house.
“Cactus? Cactus?!”
She’s nowhere. I look under the bed. Behind the couch. In the kitchen. Nausea hits me the moment it dawns on me—she’s not here.
I run to the front door. “Cactus!” I scream into the dark, but all I hear back is the howling wind and the rustle of the trees.
I bolt back inside, drag Clara’s T-shirt over my head, and tuck my feet into Liz’s old rubber boots.
And then I rush out the door.