18. Chapter 18 #2
“Did you get rid of Nana’s stuff under here?” she asks, voice muffled, and I shake my head, picturing her on her knees, pawing through the plastic containers beneath the sink.
“Are you serious right now?”
“What? You seemed like you wanted to drop it, so I’m dropping it, and like I said, sleepover rules apply. Bingo!” She comes back holding a small storage cube and a quilted glass bottle with a bubble sprayer, spritzing her wrists. “It smells like her.”
I swallow down a lump. “Are you trying to make me cry, because it’s not going to take a lot.”
“Of course not. Unless you’re willing to admit you want to cry and then we can dissect that.”
I shake my head, and she plops down beside me.
I reach for the bottle, spraying my cleavage while Kate dives into the makeup.
It’s been over a decade since we’ve touched this stuff.
The gaudy lipsticks probably expired a decade before that, and neither of us would be caught dead in this color eyeshadow palette as adults.
Kate pulls out a glittery blue and waves it like a taunt.
“Fine,” I tell her. “Do your worst.”
She laughs evilly, but I’m grateful for the distraction when she presses her fingers to my eyelid, holding it closed. I want to sink into the comfort of this memory even if it takes me a whole package of makeup wipes to clean my face at the end of the night.
I picture us doing this as kids, Nana puttering around the kitchen, mixing Shirley Temples and making us popcorn, pretending not to eavesdrop.
I always assumed that was how she got the information she needed for the “visions” she’d have later when Kate would beg her to get out the candles.
Obviously, I’m remembering it differently now.
“I saw your paintings,” Kate says. The soft brush touches my lashline and I try not to think about Staph infections.
“They’re not what I need to be working on.”
I feel her shrug even though my eyes are closed. “I think you need to be working on whatever makes you happy. You know, I was afraid you wouldn’t settle in here. That you would live out of your suitcase the whole three months.”
I wince at the way I’ve been avoiding Nana’s room. Her door is still closed, and I’ve taken to giving it a wide berth every time I pass it, like it might fly open on its own and force me to look.
“I didn’t bring enough clothes for that,” I reply.
Kate leans back to look, then gestures for me to close my other eye.
“Noel, I don’t think this is the end that you think it is.
Even if you changed something with Jamie, even if you didn’t see your future, don’t be disappointed in yourself for believing in something for a little while.
You three hours north was always different from you at home.
That’s why I wanted you to come here to figure out your shit. ”
I squeeze my lids shut again. I’m going to be a blue, glittery mess if I let these tears come. If I let any of it—
There’s a loud pounding on the door, and we both jump. “Who’s coming here?” Kate asks.
“It’s probably Colin missing you.”
She snorts. “I invited him. He said thanks, but no thanks.”
I scoop my wine from the coffee table and head to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and swinging it open.
It is not Colin, and despite knowing very few people in this city, I could still name a handful of them I would expect to see standing on my porch before Jamie.
“Hi.” My voice is barely more than air.
He runs a hand over the back of his head and tips back on his heels. “Hey, Noe.”
It’s self-preservation, I think, the way my brain forgets just how handsome he is until he’s standing in front of me. He’s hatless, wearing the green hoodie that I love. The one that makes his eyes change from the color of cream soda to the bottom of a river when the sun shines through.
And I’m dressed like a rabbit with blue eyelids. Oh my God.
The fact that he only gives this a fraction of an eyebrow raise hits me low in my belly. There’s no smart remark, no flirting—just a twitch of his jaw. A nervous dart of his eyes over my shoulder. Longing tugs me like a lasso to the center of my chest.
“What are you doing here?”
“I hope it’s okay. I did actually call first but—”
“You called me?” I’m absolutely wrecked that I didn’t see it, which is maybe one of those non-cosmic signs right in front of me. I pat the pockets of this ridiculous outfit but my phone is somewhere else. Probably under the coffee table or behind a wine box on the counter. “I didn’t see it, I was—”
“Having a one-person costume party?” The corner of his mouth twitches.
I huff out a laugh. “Um, there are two of us, actually.”
I turn to see Kate staring wide-eyed over the back of the couch. “Holy shit, it’s you.”
Jamie watches helplessly as she crosses the room and pushes his chest with her index finger like she expects it to go straight through. “I wasn’t prepared.”
At least she looks as ridiculous as I do with her lopsided braid and dog pajamas.
“Kate, right?” Jamie asks.
“Good memory. You look exactly the same.”
He doesn’t, though. His hair is different. And the scruff on his face. But she wasn’t paying as close attention as I was that night.
Kate stares at him for a few more beats, then turns to me wide-eyed. The room gets a good ten degrees warmer. Finally, she claps her hands once like a gavel. “I’m going to go.”
“Oh, you don’t have to…” I say half-heartedly. I love her, but suddenly I really want her to go.
“I do.” She darts to the bathroom and comes back with a pack of makeup wipes, shoving a few in my hand. I swipe the damp cloth over my blue eyelids while she buzzes around the room gathering her things.
And then she’s gone.
“Here, come in.” The rain that started as a drizzle earlier this evening has turned into a downpour. A raindrop falls from the zipper of Jamie’s hoodie as he steps through the threshold, toeing off his sneakers.
“This place is identical to my stepdad’s,” he says, looking around.
“Is it?” I like that for some reason, that he might know his way around.
“It’s a good thing the door was locked the night I passed out on your porch.” He nods toward the door to Nana’s room, still closed. “I would have headed straight for your bed.”
I laugh because his flirting is back and I’m so relieved by it, but it’s also an awkward reminder that he wouldn’t have headed to my bed because I’m sleeping in the loft like a child.
I push that down and gesture to where he’s holding a small paper bag in the crook of his arm. “What’s that?”
“Oh, I brought you this.” He seems nervous, color blooming on his neck as he reaches into the bag. It’s a grocery store kalanchoe with the most gorgeous peach flowers, and I think my heart might flutter right out of my chest. “To paint,” he says. “You said you were done with the hops.”
“I am.” I take it from him and clutch it to my chest.
“None of the real floral shops were open, or—”
“I love it, Jamie.”
He nods once. “Good. I’m sorry I interrupted your night with Kate.”
“It’s fine. Really.” I set the plant on the counter and touch my thumb to a tiny leaf. It’s a double flower variety, so each bloom has about twenty petals in a tight little cluster. I can’t wait to sketch it. “Um. How was your day?”
“It was…” He laughs. “Not great.”
My face falls. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I really don’t.”
“Oh. Okay.” I suppose I don’t deserve his bad days after the way I left things. He starts to say something else, but I interrupt him. “I’m just going to—” I gesture to the bunny onesie “—go put literally anything else on.” God, why ?
“You don’t have to,” he says. “I mean… it looks cute. You look cute.” He scratches the back of his neck.
“Thank you. But I definitely have to.” Tail firmly between my legs, I run upstairs and strip out of the onesie and into a pair of shorts and a tank.
The hoodie I stole from him is draped over the chair in the corner, but it probably wouldn’t be appropriate to put it on now.
Instead, I grab a long sleeve T-shirt, quickly tugging my hair out of the buns.
And then I sink to the bed and breathe through my hands.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to proceed here.
If there’s some puzzle involved in this, some secret code I’m supposed to figure out, I can’t imagine why the universe thought I was the girl for the job.
It took being slapped in the brain by a psychic vision multiple times before I even dared to believe it.
Everything seemed to fall into place before I saw that tattoo, and I just don’t know what to make of this new development after everything else.
The magic things that came true and the real way we are after such a short time.
If this thing is taking requests, I could really use some clarity, an easy explanation that turns this back into a sure thing.
But instead, seeing him like this, unsure and tentative, it makes the whole magic thing seem even more like a dream.
I’m past being impolite, hiding up here, so I head back downstairs and find Jamie crouched down low, letting Pixie attack his hand.
“Hey.”
“I didn’t know you had a cat.” He scoops Pix up, and all of the soft parts inside my heart collectively swoon.
“That’s Pixie.” Pix rubs her face on his chin. “She does this with everyone.”
“Aw, lie to me, would you?”
I laugh. “Sorry. She’s sort of a flirt, but I’m sure this is genuine.”
“She’s beautiful.” He teases her with the string on his hoodie, and she grabs it with her claw. “Look at those big gold eyes just like your momma.”
“Are you talking to my cat in a baby voice?”
“Um, that’s the only way to talk to a cat, Noel. Otherwise they don’t understand. Oh my God. Have you been talking to her in a regular voice this whole time?”
I laugh harder, my heart aching with the way it stretches. “What was I thinking?”
“How long have you had her? She looks like a kitten.”