Chapter 9 #2
“Leave it to me,” Topher said, his voice confident as he took the phone from my hands.
Miracle of all miracles, Jerry picked up after a few rings.
Topher put the phone on speaker. “Hello, Jerry.” Topher’s voice was smooth but firm.
“This is Topher Brodie. You might recognize the name. I’m with Kathleen Avery, and we’re looking for a silver locket she left behind. Have you seen it?”
Jerry’s response was predictably flat. “Nope, haven’t seen anything like that. The place has already been taken by someone new. If Kathleen left her necklace behind, it’s theirs now.”
I slumped a little, biting my lip. Of course, Jerry would take the easy way out.
But Topher didn’t flinch. “Jerry, I think you should understand the legal ramifications here. That locket is personal property left behind inadvertently. Under most property laws, you’re responsible for making an effort to return it to the rightful owner.”
There was a long pause, and I could almost picture Jerry’s face, scrunched up in annoyance, trying to figure out how to wiggle out of this. “Look, I don’t need a lesson in property law. The tenants have the place now, and I’m not going to get involved in your sob story.”
Topher’s grip on the phone tightened. “I’d advise you to reconsider that stance, Jerry.”
Jerry let out an irritated sigh. “Look, I cleaned the place top to bottom and didn’t find any necklace.”
Topher’s jaw tightened when he heard Jerry’s story change. He was gearing up to argue again. This was a guy used to getting his way. “That’s unaccept—”
“I said there’s no necklace. Sorry.” Jerry didn’t sound sorry at all.
He ended the call, and a tear slipped down my cheek.
“It’s lost. It’s gone.” I tried to hold it together, but the weight of losing the locket and all the uncertainty in my life hit me like a tidal wave. My chest tightened, and the tears fell faster.
Before I knew it, Topher had moved closer, his voice quiet and reassuring.
“Hey, we’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise.
” He reached out, gently pulling me into his arms, and I didn’t resist. I couldn’t.
The sobs came, harder than I expected, and I buried my face into his chest, allowing him to hold me.
I cried, letting out everything I’d been bottling up, and as I did, a strange sense of relief washed over me. He didn’t say anything, but just held me tighter, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on my back.
For someone who was so bad at handling emotions, he was surprisingly good at making me feel better.
As my sobs finally eased, I pulled away, feeling a strange mixture of embarrassment and relief.
That’s when it dawned on me: we had to sleep in the same room, and we still hadn’t decided how the arrangement would work.
Topher gave me a small smile. “You okay?”
I wiped my eyes and nodded. “Yeah, but just to be clear, we’re not sharing the bed.”
Topher chuckled. “Kathleen, trust me. You couldn’t pay me enough to sleep in the same bed with you.”
“Hey!” I shot back. “That’s supposed to be my line!”
He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “I’ll make a Japanese bed on the floor.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A Japanese bed?”
“Yeah. Thin mattress, no frame. I sleep better that way than in my expensive New York bed.”
I blinked at him. “So... you’ve slept on the floor before?”
“Sure, at onsens in Japan.”
I crossed my arms. “Well, I’m just warning you that I go to bed early. You’d better not stay up all night working.”
“Can’t make any promises.” He smirked. “But I’ll keep it quiet. We’ll need to. Mom’s room is right next door.”
I groaned. “Great. Now I’ll have to worry about being too loud when I toss and turn.”
Topher guided me back to the living room, his hand warm and unexpected on my shoulder. “Just don’t snore, and we’ll be fine.”
Later that night, after we’d gotten Josephine settled, the bedroom felt smaller than ever. Topher had set up his makeshift bed on the floor, and I was tucked under the covers of the double bed. He had a small desk light on, typing away on his laptop, while I attempted to get some sleep.
“Can you turn that off?” I asked, my voice muffled by the pillow.
“I’m almost done,” he murmured, not looking up. “Just a few more things to finish.”
“You’re going to ruin your eyes,” I muttered.
He reached into his bag and tossed something soft in my direction. “Here, use this.”
It was an eye mask. “Thanks.”
“Just trying to help.” The faint glow of his laptop screen cast shadows across his face. As I glanced over, I could see him still looking at me, his expression softer than usual. “Thank you, by the way.”
I blinked, taken aback. “For what?” I slid the mask over my eyes, my heart racing a little faster for reasons I didn’t entirely understand.
“For getting my mind off worrying about my mom. She’s really happy. I haven’t seen her laugh like she did at dinner in a long time.”
There was a quiet moment, and I guess neither of us felt we needed to fill the silence.
I pushed the mask off my eyes and noticed Topher absently rubbing his temples. Suddenly, Gladys’s earlier comment about Topher’s headaches came rushing back. A little twinge of concern stirred in my chest.
But then I gave in to the heaviness in my eyelids. “Goodnight, Topher.”
“Goodnight, Kathleen.”
As I lay there, I could still hear the faint tapping of his keyboard, but the soft eye mask blocked out the light.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel so alone.