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I know that’s not what she was going to say and I know what she’s talking about. The centers where kids can go to read and get books and feel safe. Every name I think of doesn’t seem right. “Inconsequential.”
I ring off, promising I’ll talk to my wayward brother. And then I’m there, outside Zoey’s place. Before I can hit the buzzer the door opens and she’s there, cheeks flushed a pretty pink as she looks up at me. “Oh! I was just coming down to wait.”
The smile that blooms inside me is too real, like everything I feel around her. “Wait no more. Your rusted chariot awaits.”
She takes hold of my arm. “I can get a car—”
“Zoey.” I lift her hand up and kiss her fingers, then I slide my other arm around her waist beneath her coat. “I’ve taken care of things. Shall we?”
“What about your gran?”
I kiss the side of her cheek. I haven’t spoken to Amelia in a couple of days. She’s on orders to standby in case I need her. She’s well paid, so I don’t worry about that. Amelia’s done her job. “You want me to bring Gran?”
“No. I’m asking how she is.”
“She’s good. Now, ready for your trip?”
It’s a good day. The trunk is full of books and we poke about various little holes in the wall. I’m a little shocked how much I enjoy it because I’m not doing anything except hanging out with her.
I don’t do that. I don’t waste time.
Yet here I am, doing exactly that and liking it.
Or maybe it’s the company I like.
I’m not the only one. Everyone loves her. From the people at the estate sale to the little stores we go into. A lot know her, some don’t, but every single one of these people glow when they talk to her.
If I could bottle that Zoey essence, I’d be a trillionaire.
She pokes me in the ribs as we pull up at a little diner. “You’re quiet.”
“I had a good day.”
I lead her in and the waitress gets us a table. Over burgers and fries—things I don’t usually eat—she tells me all about the different people she knows here, and how she loves these trips, and it warms me from somewhere deep in my chest.
Zoey smiles, those dark blue eyes shining. “You’re the first person I’ve ever asked on one of these trips.” She shrugs and drags a fry through a dollop of ketchup on the edge of her plate. “It’s not Suze’s thing, and there’s no one else I thought might like it.”
“I’m honored.”
“It’s just a boring buying trip.” She rolls her eyes.
I steal the fry from her before she can eat it and I vaguely wonder what I’ve become. Fries, burgers, cookies, feeling weirdly squishy inside? One might think I have an actual heart. Or maybe one might think I really like Zoey more than I can admit.
That doesn’t matter. How I feel or don’t feel doesn’t matter. This all has a use by date that’s fast approaching. And even if I suddenly wanted to do a three sixty, I can’t. Her store is slap bang where I’m building.
The best I can do is make the transfer easy, pay her out above and beyond and look back on this all as something sweet, something better than a stupid jewel.
She’s going to be fine. I know that. Zoey won’t have her crumbling store, but she’ll have something bigger, better, that comes with a nice fat cushion of money to fall back on.
I don’t know who I’m trying to convince here. Me or the imaginary Zoey of the near future.
“Actually,” I say, “it isn’t. Because it’s with you.”
I mean those words. With Zoey, things are better.
I’m going to have to start easing out of her life. I’d prefer it if she never knew who I was. If I didn’t spoil that. Already a part of my mind is working on graceful ways to get out of it. Maybe Magnus Simpson and Gran can move because he gets a job. Maybe he can convince Gran that moving is better than staying.
But I’m not going to think about that. I’m going to make sure we have a good time for the rest of the week, and then I’ll disappear.
