Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
The phrasing of Zev’s question has stuck with me. I appreciate it. He asked what I wanted to do. Not what I am doing. Not what I should do. But what I want.
“What do you want to do?” I ask, phrasing it just as carefully for him.
He thinks a minute, his forehead furrowed and thoughtful. “I want to heal.”
My eyes drop to his leg.
It’s a fair answer, one I understand all too well. “I hope you can heal, too,” I say. “Is your… wound stopping you from living how you want to?”
“Some days.”
“Your job?” Okay, fine, I’m asking. We’re there. I’ve already told him about teaching. And Zev and I have faked a relationship and hid from a half-naked man together—I’m pretty sure I could tell him I’m twenty-six and unemployed without losing all my pride.
“Is physical,” he says. “And impossible in my condition.” Zev clears his throat. “But healing is more than physical. You know?”
Boy, do I ever. “I understand.”
I’m just about to ask what this physical job is—my previous conviction of not asking and not telling headed right into the toilet—when Carlos walks over, a lively, wide grin on his face.
“Miss Rosie,” he says, showing all of his teeth, clear back to the molars. “Someone is visiting me at work today. Someone I hoped to introduce you to. Is it a good time?”
I glance at Zev. I have so many questions. But then— “Wait! Partida?”
Carlos nods.
“She’s out of the house?” I sit straighter, peering around the outside café for the girl.
“She was going stir crazy.” Carlos laughs, making me feel horribly guilty that I haven’t texted him yet. “When I told her I might see you today, she asked to join me.”
“Yes,” I yip. “Send her over!” I swing my gaze back to Zev. “Do you mind?” I whisper.
He gives his head a shake and we watch as Carlos waves into the building of the café. He peeks back at me, holding up one finger. “She needs a little help.”
“His granddaughter?” Zev asks. “The girl you share your books with?”
“Yeah.” I keep my eyes on the patio entrance. “I don’t even know her—but I love her. Weird, right?” I’m giddy. Partida’s here!
“Sweet,” Zev says, his eyes grinning at me. “Not weird at all.”
A small eleven-year-old girl walks next to Carlos over to our table. She’s on crutches and she’s awkward. With each and every step, I wished we’d gotten up and moved to the table closest to the door.
But they make it, wide grins on both their faces. Carlos holds out a hand, motioning to the girl. “This is my grandgirl,” he says.
“Partida, this is Rosie and her friend Zevulun.”
Zev stands, pulling out a chair for the girl. Her tan cheeks blush a warm pink with his gesture. I stand, too, before she can sit.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” I say, watching for signs as I lean in. Partida welcomes my gesture, and we share a short side embrace.
“I’ll be right back,” Carlos says, glancing at a couple seated a few tables away. “You’ll be okay, Tida?”
She nods, shy enough to keep quiet, brave enough to sit with new acquaintances.
“I’m so glad you could come,” I say, hoping she’ll be willing to talk.
“I liked the last book you gave me. The one about Vietnam and the girl and her grandma.”
“I love that one,” I tell her. “I read it…” My brows cinch. I’m not sure how long ago. Do I count my six lost years? “A while ago.”
Partida’s cheeks concave and she kicks her good leg. “She broke a bone, too.”
“She did!” I point at Zev across from us. “Zev broke his leg, too.” It’s a connection, and I’m grasping for them.
Partida’s eyes draw up to my tall, ginger, and seriously cute friend.
He peers back at her, his mouth slightly ajar. “Uh… I did,” he says. “Recently.”
Her head bows slightly and her eyes drop to her bound-up leg. Her pink toes stick out from the matching pink cast. “Fibula,” she says.
“Aw. Tibia.” Zev pats his right leg.
Partida pulls in a long breath, then exhales. “No cast?”
“I had one for six weeks,” he says. “Then a boot.”
She presses her lips into a flat line. “I’ll get a boot in a few weeks. Surgery?”
“Yep.” He screws up his face. “It’s rough. How about you?”
“Nah. Just the cast.” Partida swings her good leg and lets out a sigh. “Still rough.”
“Yep.” Zev dips his head a little, meeting her eyes. “You must be tough.”
She snickers and shrugs, her expression playful. “Maybe.”
“No maybe about it,” Zev says.
Partida continues to swing her good leg, her toes scuffing the cement ground. “How’d you break your…” She wrinkles her nose, thinking. “Tibia?”
“Car accident.” He says it plain and simple, and yet I swear I feel the weight of those two words. “What about you?”
A groan falls from Partida, making her look like a tween for the first time since she arrived. “Trampoline. My mother will never let me on one again. She says it’s a death trap.” Her eyes turn into saucers.
Zev groans, making me believe he might be younger than he looks. “That’s a bummer.”
“Zev’s mom might never let him drive again,” I say, and I’m not sure if it’s to be a part of their conversation or because I’m still trying to find connections.
Either way, Partida giggles and Zev’s eyes turn into round globes with the gag.
“Broken legs and you both like to read. Two peas from the same pod,” I say.
“You read, too?” She looks at Zev again, a glint in her eyes.
He might be everything she ever thought a male specimen should be.
“Rosie and I love to read.” I like how she says this.
As if we’re old friends. I need to stop attempting to make connections and just have confidence in the one we’ve already made.
However, until this moment, we’d never spoken to one another, so I wasn’t all that secure in our relationship. That is, until she paired us as a unit—the readers who share books.
“I know,” Zev says. “That’s how Rosie and I became friends, too.” His brows lift as he says the nickname that Carlos accidentally gave me. “She’s going to get me to read a romantic comedy with a small-town hero and a city girl—”
“There was no city girl.” I smirk, warmth flooding my cheeks.
Zev looks at me, his eyes taking me in, almost as if we’ve been friends for ages. “There’s always a city girl.”
Partida covers her mouth with a giggle. It’s a sweet giggle. One that makes me happy. I’m just so glad she’s having a good day.
“What grade will you be in next year?” I ask her.
“Fifth. It’s the best field trip year. We’ll get to go to the aquarium in Reno, and we’ll camp at Lake Tesoro and look at the stars with a telescope.”
“Whoa,” I say—because I wanna do that. “That’s cool. We never did anything like that at my school.” I dart my gaze over to Zev. “You?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. And when I get bored, I’ll have a book.”
“I don’t think you’ll get bored at the aquarium. You know what, there’s this book I saw at the bookstore, it’s all about a baby whale’s journey after it gets caught in a trap and has to reunite with its mom. It might be fun to read that before you go.”
“Yeah,” she says with a wide grin. “And then we can read Zevulun’s romance novel before we go look at the stars.” She smothers another giggle.
“Hey,” Zev whines, though it’s far from real. “Am I getting picked on?”
Partida shakes her head, but her grin is too wide to be believable.
We talk for another hour about books and science and even Partida’s latest Disney Channel obsession, with Carlos checking in as he takes care of his tables.
Partida is sweet, a little sassy, and so stinking smart.
I love her. Just like I knew I would. After one morning together, she might be my new best friend—right after Fran, of course.
When her mother picks her up, I’m truly sad to see her go.
I sigh and lean back in my chair.
“You look happy.” Zev’s watching me.
I breathe out a laugh. “It was a fun morning. I love her.”
“It was. She’s a great kid.”
“She is a great kid.” I sit straighter. “Smart and funny and kind of amazing.”
“You two got along well.”
I laugh. “We all did. She really took to you.”
“Yeah, well, Partida has me thinking…”
“About?”
Zev shrugs, but there’s a knowing glint in his eye. “It’s none of my business. And not for me to decide. But maybe teaching college or upper-level kids isn’t right for you after all.”
“Really? One conversation with a fifth grader and you’ve already decided?”
“Only you can decide that. But you lit up a little differently around that girl.” He lifts his hands as if in defeat. “I can’t deny what I saw, Rosie.”