Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We come down the stairs just as Camilla brings the last dish out to the table. It looks like Thanksgiving or a medieval banquet. There’s far more food than one family can eat at a single meal. She must have been cooking all afternoon. I can’t believe this is a weekly thing.
“They’ll take leftovers and eat off them for the rest of the week. It’s the only way my stubborn children let me help them,” Camilla whispers, clearly picking up on my surprise.
The table has two long benches on either side and a chair at each end. Riley is seated on one bench, and Cosmos and I take the other. The end of the table closest to us has an empty wine glass, but no plate setting.
“Where’s Julia?” Cosmos asks.
“On her way.”
“And Ivy?” he adds.
Camilla makes the sign of the cross and looks up at the ceiling. “Lord knows.” She doesn’t say it sarcastically, but with genuine belief. That’s when I notice the crosses and icons on the wall and wonder if Cosmos is Catholic, or was at least raised Catholic.
He mutters under his breath, but all I make out is something that sounds like Mack, which I think was Ivy’s boyfriend’s name.
“Have you met him yet?” Camilla asks Cosmos, clearly making the same guess.
“He’s very handsy,” Cosmos grumbles.
The woman I saw upstairs appears in the doorway, carrying a casserole dish from the kitchen. “Don’t worry. I talked to her about birth control.”
“My other sister, Cecelia,” Cosmos says, nodding at the woman by way of introduction.
“Don’t be putting ideas in Ivy’s head.” Camilla wags a finger at Cecelia. “You gave me an ulcer with all your teenage escapades. I don’t need another one from her.” She makes the sign of the cross again and grabs the wine bottle. “We’ll start without her.”
After officially introducing me to Cecelia, Camilla opens the wine and pours a generous splash into the empty glass at the head of the table.
When she’s finished, she passes the wine bottle to Cosmos and lets him fill the rest of the glasses, while she takes a seat at the other end of the table.
When he gets to my glass, I touch his arm and get him to look at me.
Time stops. “Is there some significance to pouring the extra glass of wine?”
I vaguely remember hearing about a Jewish tradition where they put out a place setting for Elijah or something, but I’ve never heard of a similar Catholic tradition.
Cosmos shifts in his seat like he’s a little uncomfortable, but he doesn’t look away. “It’s in memory of my dad. Mom always poured his wine first, and after he passed… she kept doing it.”
“You must miss him a lot.”
“Mom, most of all.” He looks away and everyone moves again, passing dishes of food around the table so we can all serve ourselves.
Cecilia passes me a bowl of the risotto. “Speaking of birth control, what precautions are you taking?”
I almost drop the platter. Did Cosmos’ sister just ask me about birth control at the dinner table? Yet again, I find myself wishing I didn’t blush so easily. My face feels like it’s been lit on fire.
“Lay off, Cece. It’s none of your business.” Cosmos takes the dish from me and scoops a generous serving onto my plate.
“It’s exactly my business.” She takes a sip of her wine.
“Remember how I told you my sister was a sex therapist?” Cosmos waves his hand in Cecilia’s direction, as if it explains her question.
I turn back to my food, assuming the conversation is over.
“You aren’t going to answer the question?” Cecilia asks, frowning. “It seems like an important precaution. I mean, I love Riley, but I’m not looking for another niece or nephew, and Cosmos is certainly not ready to be a dad.”
“I think he’d make a great dad,” Riley says in that matter-of-fact way of hers. The rest of the table looks at her, and she smiles sweetly at her uncle.
“Thanks, pipsqueak. Glad someone’s willing to stand up for me.” Cosmos grins back. “But you’re gonna have to wait a while for cousins. I still need to finish my residency.”
I swallow down another gulp of wine, cataloging the fact that Cosmos wants kids. Good to know. Not that I imagine he’ll put up with me long enough to make it through his residency and get to a place where he’s ready for kids, but… good to know.
He gives his sister a cool, silencing look. “I have it under control.”
“Good. It should be as much the man’s responsibility as the woman’s.” She takes a bite of her food, and I think the conversation is over.
“And when was the last time you were screened for STIs, Hazel?” Cecelia asks, calm as a cucumber.
I choke on a piece of asparagus. Cosmos pounds on my back, but I can’t seem to catch my breath. He stands and moves behind me, and I can tell we’re seconds away from him doing the Heimlich right here at the dinner table, when it finally dislodges and I gasp.
Cosmos gets me a glass of water, and his mom scolds Cecelia. “No more interrogations. Cosmos can handle himself.”
We settle into talking about more comfortable things.
I learn Camilla is a florist, and that she works at the cute little flower shop on the corner next to The Book Bar.
Cecelia shares about a book she’s reading on the sexual needs of menopausal women, with veiled hints aimed at persuading her mother to start dating.
Which is awkward considering I only just met these people and there’s a child sitting at the table with us silently absorbing everything her aunt shares—a fact no one else seems at all alarmed by.
At least she’s not asking me aggressively personal questions about my sex life anymore.
Riley recounts a detailed description of the hike her class took to look for wildlife, which delights Camilla, who genuinely oozes love as she asks follow-up questions.
Through each of these conversations, some part of Cosmos is always in contact with some part of me.
He touches me in small, familiar ways. The kind of touches people share when they’re completely comfortable with each other.
He squeezes my hand. Presses his knee against mine.
Twirls his fingers along my forearm. Rubs my back.
It’s nice, but it also makes me jittery.
I’ve never had a boyfriend who was so touchy-feely.
How is he really my boyfriend already? I didn’t have a chance to let that sink in when his niece asked us earlier, but now it’s all I can think about. Dr. Obnoxiously Hot is my boyfriend.
Halfway through the meal, the front door opens, and a familiar voice calls from the entryway.
“Sorry, I’m late. I had to—” Julia cuts off as she steps within view of the dining room.
“You didn’t.” She puts her hands on her hips and glares at Cosmos.
“This is why Samantha’s covering your shift? You couldn’t even wait a full week?”
My face heats, and I scoot away from Cosmos on the bench. He doesn’t let me get far, though, throwing his arm around my shoulder and holding me in place.
“Hi, sis.” Cosmos’ tone is casual, but his eyes are stubbornly narrowed on Julia, the possessive arm around my shoulder a clear line in the sand.
I want to say something, but I don’t know what. The urge to leave almost has me jumping from my seat, but I drove here with Cosmos. I can feel myself shutting down, the tension working like a dimmer on my brain. I’ve never been good with conflict.
Julia hangs her purse and coat on the coat rack, shaking her head. “You always do this.”
“Julia.” There’s a warning in Camilla’s voice.
“No, Mama,” she replies, marching into the dining room. “He needs to hear this.”
“Does she?” Camilla asks. “Hazel’s our guest and a lovely one at that.”
I feel grateful for the smile Camilla gives me, but if there’s a genuine reason for Julia to be upset, if we’ve done something wrong, I want to know. I’m not one to break rules, and I definitely don’t want to get Cosmos in trouble.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I whisper.
Julia comes up short, and her face pales a little. “Oh, no. No, Hazel, it’s not you. Look, you seem great, and I’m sure you two would be really good together, but your mom just got out of the hospital. You’re in a fragile place, and my brother, well, he tends to…”
Julia’s words from before sink like a weight in my stomach. You always do this. Has he made a move on someone at the hospital before? Multiple times before?
“I mean, Cosmos, isn’t trying to take advantage of you or anything, he’s got a great heart, but he falls hard and fast, and always with some sign from the universe that he’s found his soulmate,” she says putting emphasis on the last word like she thinks it’s a joke.
“What was it last time? She wore the same color as you four days in a row?” Julia barks out a laugh.
“Two weeks in, he figured out the girl wearing the same color as him every day was a Flat Earther and decided it was just a coincidence.”
“That never made sense to me,” Cecelia says. “How does someone get through pre-med and still think the earth is flat?”
“She didn’t think the earth was flat. She thought the moon landing was fake,” Cosmos corrects.
“I don’t think the moon landing was fake,” I squeak, not even sure why I’m chiming in. Clearly, the moon landing isn’t the point. The point is Cosmos has fallen for people before because of some sign from the universe, and then he’s dumped them. Just like he’ll dump me.
Julia’s right. I’m too fragile for that right now.
I hug my arms around myself and stand up. “I think I should go.”
Julia’s face softens, while Camilla’s hardens. “No, Hazel, you stay. I think I need to have a talk with my daughter.”
Camilla takes Julia’s elbow and leads her upstairs.
Cosmos tugs my hand, urging me to sit down.
But I don’t. I thought this thing with Cosmos was special, but now I don’t know what to think.
Have his signs from the universe ever been this big before?
For all I know, he’s stopped time with someone else and this isn’t anything special at all.
Is he assuming that our stopping time means something more than it does?
Does he think this means we’re fated to be together, or soulmates, or something?
What if it’s just some fluke of nature? What happens when he discovers my flaws?
Will he ditch me like he ditched the other girls?
My thoughts are a rolling ocean, and I’m sinking fast.
“What’s it like to stop time?” Riley asks. Her question slams my churning thoughts to a stop. Any lingering uncertainty I had about whether Cosmos’ family knew our secret vanishes.
I look at the man in question, but he’s avoiding my eyes. Irritation swirls with all the other feelings churning inside me. The least he can do is look at me and explain himself.
“Um…” I don’t know how to answer her question. “What do you mean?”
“What’s it like to stop time?” Cecelia repeats her niece’s question word for word, and I can’t tell if she’s mocking me or serious. She looks serious, like someone asking a clinical research question.
I almost lie and say I don’t know what they’re talking about, but Riley’s looking at me with a wide-eyed intensity that’s both terrifying and endearing. “It’s like pushing pause on a movie,” I whisper. “Except the movie is everything and everyone around you.”
Her little eyebrows squeeze together like she’s trying to imagine it.
“Is there a physical sensation that goes along with it?” Cecelia asks.
“Wait… you all really believe this?”
Cecelia tilts her head as if she’s studying a specimen under glass. “He hasn’t told you.”
Hasn’t told me what? I want to scream at someone to explain what’s going on, but my brain has gone numb again. My body is shaking with a nervousness I can’t describe, but also can’t seem to hold inside.
Cecelia polishes off the last of her wine and bumps her niece’s shoulder. “Come on, Riley, let’s clear the table and give them time to talk.”
“But I want to hear more about time stopping.” Riley protests. “Did you do it tonight? Have you frozen me?”
“We don’t freeze anyone, pipsqueak. We stop time. There’s a difference.” Cosmos’ expression is serious and tense. He’s making an effort for his niece, but he still won’t look at me. “Now, help your aunt. I’m gonna show Hazel the butterflies.”
I’m certain we won’t find any butterflies outside at this time of night, but when he holds out his hand, I take it automatically. I owe him a chance to explain, and I don’t really know what else to do.
As soon as the front door closes behind us, I turn on him. “Why did you tell them?”
I thought stopping time was just for us. It feels so personal, so real and vulnerable. It’s not the sort of thing you talk about. Stopping time was a bubble, a perfect protected thing, away from everyone else. By telling them, he popped that bubble. He let people in, and I didn’t even know.
“Why?” I ask again.
“I need to show you something.”