Page 77

Back in the days Gabriel affectionately thought of as Before, spending a lazy Sunday morning meandering through stacks of dusty volumes at the Vitford Memorial Library book sale with Iris was a relatively common occurrence. Certainly nothing to get overexcited about.

But much had changed, and Iris’ time was no longer his alone to claim.

In the few weeks that had lapsed since Iris and Blair visited the Saltonstalls, Iris seemed to have developed a one-track mind, her heart driving down a single road that somehow never seemed to cross paths with his own. She was still present in his life physically; emotionally, she was nowhere to be found, and Gabriel had all but lost the will to search for her.

The crowded library basement was crammed with moveable bookshelves with narrow pathways in between, shoppers all pressed together like the sticky buns Gabriel occasionally picked up from Vitford Bakery. He spotted the usual types who always seemed to haunt their local book sale: perfumed old women with oversized handbags, Mennonite ladies in the kinds of traditional dresses that were commonplace during Gabriel’s youth in the seventeen eighties, and upper middle-aged men with cardboard boxes full of heavy nonfiction books cradled in their arms like infants.

He meandered to the back room where antique and specialty books were housed and found a private corner to himself, where he was free to stare blankly at the shelves and think without being disturbed.

When Gabriel had suggested that he and Iris attend the book sale alone for old time’s sake, she had agreed at once, though he could sense her reluctance in not inviting Blair to join them.

Gabriel wasn’t certain what was going on between Iris and Blair. All he knew was that when he touched the woven bracelet Iris had made for him back when they’d first met—when he used it to connect with her energy using what was left of his magic—Blair’s spirit was there alongside her own, as though their hearts were knotted together as tightly as the strands of the bracelet. The flashing edges of Blair’s aura seemed calmer lately too, like the ocean under a quiet moon. Gabriel no longer clung onto his distrust of Blair and had even come so far as to consider him a friend. The selfless corner of his heart was glad that Iris’ presence in Blair’s life had seemingly soothed the waters of his soul.

Stuffing the book he’d been pretending to look at back beside its fellows, Gabriel swept from the room, immediately bumping into Iris. She stopped short, a full tote bag slung over the crook of one arm, her violet winter coat draped over the other.

“Ready to go?” she asked. She peered at his empty satchel. “You didn’t find anything? That’s unusual.”

He shrugged. “I have a large backlog of books at home.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“Let’s just check these out, shall we?” He nodded to her bag. The flimsy cloth handles looked as though they might soon tear under the strain of heavy books.

Iris checked her phone as they stepped to the back of the congested line, no doubt hoping for a message from Blair. She couldn’t even go a single hour without checking in with him.

Gabriel despised himself for his jealousy where Blair was concerned. He was far too old and wise for such nonsense, and he hated to think of the hours he’d wasted trying to understand the strength of Iris and Blair’s connection. He imagined they bonded over their shared experiences of having been brought up by overprotective parents—Iris in the way her mother had shielded her from her father, and Blair stuck up in his attic bedroom behind an iron fence. But while Blair and Iris resented the way their guardians had safeguarded them, Gabriel would have given almost anything to have received a bit more coddling in his formative years.

And yet, Gabriel still couldn’t banish the possibility that if he had been a better partner to Iris, she never would have formed such a deep bond with another.

Nevertheless, he wanted Iris to be happy, and if Blair made her so, who was he to stand in their way? He only hoped that his and Iris’ commitment to being platonic life partners would somehow endure. Possibly that was wishful thinking to the point of idiocy. Perhaps it was a selfish desire.

Perhaps for people like him, this kind of committed love was a pipe dream, something always a little out of reach, a laser aimed at the floor for a cat to chase but never catch.

Gabriel remained thoughtful as they left the library, forgetting even to wrap his cashmere scarf around his neck or slip on his hat; both remained folded at the bottom of his otherwise empty bag.

For early February, the weather was positively balmy, the sun perched high in the cerulean sky. Townspeople crowded the streets, some headed for the library book sale, others to Bookish Emporium to peruse the new releases Gabriel had helped procure. Many were walking in the same direction as he and Iris were. The cafe was sure to be crowded now that it was approaching noon.

“Can I ask you something?” A crease formed between Iris’ eyebrows as they stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Always.”

Her frown deepened. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but do you think it’s a little strange that people like you and Blair seem, I don’t know, drawn to me in a way?”

They passed the flower shop, its display window bursting with red and pink roses. Gabriel made a mental note to pick up a bouquet for Iris for Valentine’s Day, like he did every year. “When you say, ‘people like us’…”

She lowered her voice. “I mean, you know, supernatural people. Similars. Do you think there’s a reason for that?”

“Well,” Gabriel began, keeping his voice hushed, “for one thing, I think you’ll find that our kind aren’t quite as rare as you’d probably imagine. But I believe you’re correct. I think those who are a little unusual are drawn to you.”

“Why?” she asked, her boots scuffing against the salt scattered like ashes across the sidewalk.

He considered his reply as the market came into view. “I think it’s because you give us the benefit of the doubt, when others would perhaps judge us on sight. You see past the image we show the world.”

Iris looked up at him as they crossed the street and stepped inside the warm, coffee and sourdough-scented cafe, which was every bit as crowded as the library. While they waited for a table to free up, Gabriel pondered her question some more.

What was it about Iris that had made him want to create a life with her from the moment they’d met, and that still, despite everything, made the thought of losing her feel like a knife to the heart? What was it that drew Blair to her in what Gabriel imagined was much the same way?

“People like to feel seen,” he continued, speaking close to Iris’ ear so as not to involve anyone else in their private conversation. “They appreciate how when you peer into the deepest depths of their souls, you can see past the craggy stones to focus on the tiny flowers growing between the cracks.” He flattened himself against the wall to allow a departing couple to squeeze through the front door. Once he and Iris sat down at the couple’s vacated table, he finished his thought. “Blair and I…we’re like wilting daisies stretching our faces to the light. That’s why we’re drawn to you.”