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Chapter Thirty-Two
The house was coming together quicklywith the contractor and his team doing all the work and Chris staying out of the way. They had the kitchen nearly finished, and the hardwoods had been laid on the entire second floor. But Chris’s heart wasn’t in the remodel anymore; his entire focus was on the empty house across the street, waiting to see if a certain sister showed up. If anyone showed up.
His talk with Harper the day before had cleared up some, but not all, of the questions he had about Agatha. He wondered if he was the boy who had made fun of her name, but he couldn’t remember. It did sound like something I would’ve done, he thought in shame.
In an attempt to find out, he had decided to visit his mom, who couldn’t remember anything about his elementary school years and didn’t want to. But he grabbed a box that contained his yearbooks and some other mementos and took them to his house.
As he looked through the box, he glanced out the window at Agatha’s dark house. She must be missing her studio. It had been days since she had been there. He wondered if Poppy could walk yet. He was missing her more than he expected to, but he figured that she was a small part of the woman he loved, so naturally, he loved her as well.
In the box he found his kindergarten yearbook, their pictures side by side. Agatha had a toothy grin that was already a little sassy, yet Chris was missing most of his teeth and had barely smiled for the picture. Even now, he could remember how he had thought she was cute back then. It also made him realize how much Poppy looked like her mom.
As he paged through other yearbooks, he watched her change and grow up, himself always alongside her. In the fourth grade, she had cut her hair into a short style much like her current one. He noticed that she’d grown it out again so that she had long hair in her senior picture. He remembered that by the end of the year, it was short again.
He recalled that she had said her dad left when she was in junior high, but he saw no evidence that his leaving had affected her, other than the fact that her clothes went from brightly colored T-shirts to black. Or maybe that was how it affected her; his leaving took her love of color with him.
Putting the yearbooks aside, he took out articles and clippings from his football career. Those held no interest for him at all once he caught sight of something he thought had been tossed out years before: a valentine with a hand-drawn bunny on it with the words “Somebunny Loves You” written in cursive and Christie’s name at the bottom. He wondered now if she had drawn it especially for him or if she had just given him one she had drawn, not carrying what it said.
After repacking the box, he set it in the corner, leaving the card out. Whichever of Agatha’s sisters he saw next, he would send the card with her to give to Agatha. Maybe then Agatha would talk to him.
With no other idea what to do, Chris returned to sitting on his front step, knowing she wasn’t coming out today. She was still hiding.
But he sat and stared anyway; there was nothing else to do. His contractor no longer let him help. It seemed that even under supervision, he couldn’t get anything done right. This included him having to have a toilet replaced three times.
As cars passed and kids yelled from somewhere, Chris looked at the house he wanted to be in with Agatha and Poppy as a family.
“Boy, are you depressing to look at,” someone said from the sidewalk.
Looking over at a brown-haired guy in a suit and blue tie, he sat up. He had no idea who the guy was, but he was happy someone wanted to talk to him. Without Agatha and Poppy around, he was bored.
“Thanks, just letting my mind wander.”
“Toward some Lovely lady, I assume. They dig their claws into you, and you can’t shake them. Even when they disappear.” The man sat down near him and looked at the house as well.
“What are you talking about?” Chris asked in confusion. The man was talking in riddles.
“You missing Agatha,” the man stated.
“Do you know her?” Chris turned to the guy, excited. Maybe he could tell him where to find Agatha.
“You have no memory at all!” The man laughed. “Or maybe you weren’t paying attention to anyone but Agatha that night. I’m married to the lovely Maby Lovely. My name’s Cliff.”
“Chris Lowell.” Chris shook the man’s hand, but still didn’t remember him from the dinner at Agatha’s mom’s house. Cliff was right; his eyes had been on Agatha that night, and her daughter.
“That I know. I should beat you up for sleeping in my woman’s bed, but I can account for her movements that night, so I’m okay.” Cliff chuckled.
Chris shrugged. “Thanks for letting me off so easy.”
“Any time. But do not, I repeat, do not touch my woman,” Cliff warned, not that Chris was a threat on that front. If she hadn’t looked exactly like her twin sister, Chris wouldn’t even remember her, but identical twins tended to be memorable.
Chris raised his hands in the air. “I will leave her be.”
“Good, now show me your house. What are you doing with it?” Cliff got to his feet.
“Selling it once it’s done. I really like how it is turning out,” Chris admitted, though he was not really responsible for its appearance.
After showing Cliff around the house and telling him everything that had been done and everything that was going to be done, Chris was surprised with how many questions Cliff had. But it made the morning go quickly.
“So when are you going to be done?” Cliff asked as they made their way back outside.
