“Gone?”
“Someone came and got her. She had already been promised to someone. I didn’t know that. There was no way I was getting her, even if I didn’t go for that walk.”
“Oh, Grace,” I said. “I’m so sorry. That was such a big decision for you to make.”
Grace nodded. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget her.”
The cat?
I forced a grin. I nodded some more.
I felt my back pocket buzz.
“I’m sorry to get like this,” Grace said.
“No worries,” I said as I casually reached for my phone. “It’s not easy for you.”
She laughed. “Look at you. Giving me advice. Saying all the right things.”
“Yeah,” I said as I looked down at the screen.
your roommate okay?
The text from Josh made me shake my head.
He could play the tough guy card all day long…
“Sorry,” I said. “I have to answer this quick.”
She’s fine. Cat thing. DO NOT ASK
I sent the text and looked at Grace.
She sipped her tea and inched her way up her bed and put the mug on the nightstand.
“I think I’m going to do what I tell others,” she said. “Think it out. Write it out.”
My phone buzzed with a reply from Josh.
“Cry it out,” Grace continued.
“Yeah,” I said, not paying attention to her.
cat thing? i have to ask now. i saw all the pictures. that’s a lot of pussy…
My cheeks burned a little.
Of course, Josh would go there. Typical guy.
“… then I’m going to use this, Amelia. For good. For myself. You know?”
I looked at her. “Of course.”
“You’re a really good person. A good friend even.”
“Yeah,” I said as I wrote back to Josh.
Gross. You would go there. Sorry about Grace though. Kind of embarrassing.
“I think I’ll just hang here alone,” Grace said. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” I blurted out way too quickly. “Take care of yourself, Grace. Please. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you again.”
I slipped out of Grace’s room as Josh texted me back.
i read your story, love. now that’s embarrassing.
I laughed.
My fingers moved fast.
Thanks for that. You read that stupid story by me and I got nothing out of you.
I wandered down the hallway slowly, swaying as though I were drunk.
Bumping off the walls, biting my lip, waiting for Josh to respond.
oh, you got something out of me. you left me hanging
He made me laugh to myself.
Can we get together in a little bit? I still want that story…
As I moved my finger to send it, Grace’s bedroom door opened.
“Amelia. How do you feel about takeout and girl talk?”
I looked over my shoulder and saw tears running down her cheek.
I deleted my message to Josh.
“Sure,” I said. “We can do that.”
I’d rather have been with Josh.
But he and I getting too close was too dangerous for both of us.
Chapter 22
The Spoon, the Ladle, the Address
NOW
(Josh)
The words seemed to be stuck on my lips. I had everything ready for what I wanted to say, but it didn’t happen. Bringing those old memories to life again left me sitting on the floor in the living room with a notebook on my right side and a bottle of whiskey on my left. A single light burned behind me, my shadow cast across the floor and the wall. It was so quiet. So dark.
I sipped the whiskey with my left hand, and I scribbled with my right. Half of it was actual words. The other half was drawings. A piece of a sentence and a drawing to go with it. As though I wanted to tell the story anyway, but without words.
This was the kind of night where going out was preferred. Find a corner bar that was dimly lit with a small buzz and find temporary company. Someone who could spend the night, understood what that meant, and find their way back to reality before it was too late.
Only now I barely had the urge to do that.
I glanced at the texts with Amelia and shook my head. She had gently carved a fresh spot into my head and was threatening to go for my heart next. That wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have happen, but it still left me uneasy.
I took another gulp of whiskey.
Then I looked down at my writing and drawing.
Wisps of hair from the left side of the page. The hair that was always blowing in the breeze. She could never keep her hair in place. Ever. She would either forget a hair tie or just refuse to wear it. I never understood why that bothered me so much. She loved it. She would laugh her head off as the wind played with her hair.
My fingertips moved down the page of the notebook as I felt like my chest was going to collapse.
If I wasn’t so drunk, I would have gone out.
I needed someone.
I knew exactly who I needed too.
My eyes popped open and I was in the same position as the night before.
I wasn’t going to lie to myself when I spotted the bottle of whiskey and thought about having a sip for breakfast. Wouldn’t have been the first time, but doing that would have put me on a slippery slope to revisit some past decisions that didn’t turn out so well.
My right hand spread across the page in my notebook and I hurried to close it.
Delilah.
I hated that my mind was weak enough in the morning to let that slip across.
Bad enough I had lost the letter to her, but now I was back to drawing pictures of her and thinking about her first thing in the morning.
I should have never written the letter.
I should have
