Now, Willow is an adult. Married with a house and a job as an accountant. It’s not the exciting career of being on Broadway that she always wanted, but it makes her happy. I think the stability and normalcy intrigue her.
After our world was turned upside down all those years ago, I didn’t blame her for wanting something like that. She had a lot of dark days herself, and her work makes sense. It keeps her calm. I, on the other hand, went in a totally different direction and dove headfirst into chaos.
I knock on Clara’s door, taking note of the chipped paint job, and rub my thumb over the wood panel around the doorframe. There’s shuffling on the other side before the door opens.
“Hey,” she says, and her presence instantly jolts my body awake.
“Hey.” I drop my hand. “I’ll bring some paint over soon, and we can paint this frame.”
“What?”
“The frame. The paint needs to be touched up.”
“You never stop, do you?” She shakes her head, her lips twisting upward. It’s the same amused smile she always gave me when I got competitive over Wii sports.
“What do you mean?” I brush past her to get inside, and her perfume wafts around me.
“You’re always there to help, offering a hand like the friendly neighborhood doctor.”
“Well, it does make me popular.” I wink.
“Tell that to your stupid couch.”
I lean my hip on the back of her couch that’s facing the fireplace. The coffee table is covered with various picture frames and a pile of books. A few labeled boxes are stacked in the corner too.
“Dax!” Jacob runs out of his room, his wavy hair dripping wet. “Want to see my room?”
“Of course, I do.”
He yanks on my shirt, pulling me toward his room. Once inside, he holds his arms out to show me his palace. “My mom still needs to help me put the bookshelf together. It’ll go over there.” He points to an empty wall on the left, then continues to the rest of the room. There are posters of Spider-man and other Marvel superheroes, and above the bed, his name is spelled out in wooden block letters.
Jacob pulls a few toys out to show me, and Clara pops her head in to remind him it’s almost time for bed.
“Five more minutes?” Jacob pleads.
“What good will that do?” Clara comes in with hands on her hips.
“Dax and I are talking.”
She grins. “You and Dax can talk soon. We’re going to the Harvest Festival next weekend, remember?”
“I want to ride all the rides.”
“We’ll see. Sleep now.” She goes to kiss him on the forehead, but he jerks away. “Don’t run from me.”
“Mom…” he groans.
I sit back, doing my best to cover my grin, watching their push and pull. Hard to believe Jacob is already ten years old. Every time I see him, it feels like he’s three inches taller.
In the past, I saw him every few years but not anymore.
I’ll be here, as Clara’s friend. As Jacob’s friend. They’ll be here instead of thousands of miles away. We’re not only in the same zip code, but we now live a short mile apart.
I’ll get to watch Jacob grow up.
My chest swells with relief.
“Love you, honey.” Clara nudges me out to the living room, shutting his door behind her.
She yawns, her squinty brown eyes adorable.
“You’re tired. I’ll get out of your hair.”
“But you just got here. Plus, my mom brought some of Andrew’s wine. I figured you’d want some.”
“I do, but you need to rest. We’ll have wine another night.”
Her shoulders slump. “I’m sorry I’m so lame, but sleep sounds amazing right now. Especially since, right before you got here, I don’t know how, but Jacob had a tick on his arm.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “And of course, you threw up trying to get it out like you did when I went hunting, and my mom had to pull one off me. I couldn’t get the vomit smell out of my memory, and I never hunted again.”
“Ah, who knew throwing up could save lives?” She shakes her head, a lazy grin on her lips. “And I did throw up. Just be glad you didn’t get here five minutes earlier.”
I study her, noticing the missing color in her cheeks. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just been a long couple of days.”
“Let me take a look at you.” I gesture for her to sit on the couch.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Please? It’ll make me feel better.”
Sighing with resignation, she sits, and I kneel in front of her.
I gently tilt her head up toward the light to get a better look. “Your eyes are a little red.” Placing my fingers on her throat to feel her glands, I try my best to focus. To try to find symptoms and not notice the way her lips naturally part.
Her breaths come out evenly.
Her eyes search mine.
Time stops for me in this innocent moment.
I clear my throat and find my voice. “Your lymph nodes aren’t swollen, so that’s good,” I manage.
“I told you it’s just exhaustion.”
I drop my hands and sit back on my heels, then peer at the boxes in the corner. “Get some sleep tonight. Don’t worry about unpacking the rest of your things. I’ll help the next chance I get.”
Her eyes glisten with what appear to be tears, and my heart sinks.
She’s grieving.
Overwhelmed.
She’s transitioning not only to a different town, but to a new chapter in her life.
Leaning forward, she wraps her arms around my neck, then whispers in my ear, “Thank you.”
Two simple words.
Normal for a friend to say to another friend who offered his help.
But her hot breath on my neck, her delicate arms around me, her breasts pressed to my chest—it’s too much.
It’s just a hug, I tell myself. She’s your friend.
Clara’s my oldest friend. We’ve known each other since we were six, and right now? That’s who she needs. So, that’s what I’ll be.
For both our sakes.
Four
Clara
“Now would you look at that.” Cathy Clementine tips her sunglasses down dramatically.
In my periphery, I can’t tell where her attention is, but even so, I don’t think I want to know. I haven’t been back to town much since I left and don’t know many people anymore, but one thing I know—Cathy’s the town gossip.
And I don’t need any drama in my life.
I step forward in line to get corn dogs.
Another woman hums in appreciation at whatever Cathy is talking about, and I fight the urge to look as though we’re back on the playground daring each other to do this and that.
“My, my.”
“A man like him smiling like that… Lord.”
Their comments get the best of me, and I follow their gazes.
Dax.
They’re watching him as he uses a Popsicle stick to see inside a young child’s mouth.
“He volunteered to work the first-aid tent on his day off. What a man.” Cathy fans herself as we take another step closer to the front of the line.