He puts his blue backpack on the carpet and sits on the couch, scooting back against the cushions. His feet don’t reach the floor. I take the recliner near him. Barclay walks into the room and shrieks again.
“Ahhh! Julianne! What is it?”
Jacob screws up his face. “Don’t you mean ‘who is it’?”
Barclay shrieks again. “Ahhh! It talks!”
Barclay is overacting for the attention. Of course he knows what a child is. I think. “Barclay, please stop. You’re going to scare our guest.”
“He wasn’t invited!”
“I invited him.”
“When? When was this so-called invitation issued?” He flourishes his hands like a magician. I want to hit him.
“Just now. I invited him in.”
“Julianne!” he hisses at me. “He could be a vampire, and you’ve just rendered us defenseless.” I can see our obsessive viewing of What We Do in the Shadows has negatively impacted him.
“Barclay!” My patience is stretched. “Give it a rest. Jacob is not a vampire. He’s Aiden’s son, and he wants to talk to me for a minute.”
Barclay takes a few more steps into the room. When he speaks, he sounds like a fifties sophisticate. “Aiden’s son, is he? Well, this changes everything.” He takes a seat on the couch. “Just how is your father doing, dear boy?”
“Enough, Barclay.” I grab him by the collar and make him stand. “Please go to your room while I speak with Jacob.” He flounces to the door, turns around and sticks his tongue out at me, but he leaves.
When he’s gone, Jacob bursts out laughing. “Ha! Your roommate is fun!”
I laugh too. “He’s a lot of fun, actually. I hope he didn’t scare you.”
Jacob laughs again. “No. Would anybody think he’s scary? He’s hilarious.” He furrows his little brow and frowns. “Why does he call you Julianne, though? I thought your name was Evie.”
I nod, thinking. “Oh, right.” I shrug. “It’s his nickname for me.”
“Weird.”
“I know, right?” I make a twirling motion with my finger to the side of my head in the international symbol for crazy. Jacob gets it and nods sympathetically.
“Yeah, adults are crazy.”
“We certainly are.” I put my hands in my lap. “So. Jacob. Do your parents know you’re here?” I may not be a mom, but I’m a good aunt, and I know that one of the worst things for a parent is not knowing where their child is.
He swings his legs back and forth. “Not exactly.”
“Where do they think you are?”
“Well,”—he scratches his nose—“my dad thinks I’m at my mom’s, and my mom thinks I’m at my dad’s.”
“How did you manage that? Didn’t one of them drop you off at the other’s house?”
“Well, you live really close to my mom. Did you know that?”
I shake my head.
“Oh, well, you do. When I was in Dad’s office yesterday at the restaurant, I was looking at your worker file and saw that your address was just down the street from hers, almost. So when Dad dropped me off, I waved to him at the door…and then just waited until he left and walked here.”
“Jacob, you shouldn’t have done that.”
He looks down. “I know.” He lifts his chin. “But I had to talk to you, and it’s not like I could ask my dad or anything.”
I nod. “Okay,” I say, accepting the inevitable while admiring his misguided resourcefulness. “We can talk. But then I’m going to drive you right back to your mom’s, okay? I don’t want your dad to get in trouble for being late to drop you off. We’ll have to talk fast.”
He scoots forward excitedly. “No worries. I can talk fast. Okay. So, here it is. My dad likes you.”
I nod again. “Yeah, I know.”
“No, he, like, likes you-likes you.” His big eyes blink at me, and he smiles as if he’s said something scandalous.
I bob up and down. “Yeah, I know.”
“And I think you like him too. Like, a lot.” He waves his hand in a circle, encompassing everything.
“I do.”
“So there you go.”
I incline my head the way of instructive schoolmarms everywhere. “Jacob. I appreciate your interest, but it’s more complicated than that.”
“But it’s not.”
“It really is.” At his doubting look, I add, “There are things you don’t know.”
“All adults think kids don’t know enough to make real choices, but I do.” He does his big blinking-eyes routine again. I try not to melt. “My dad likes you, and you like him. He hasn’t liked anyone in a long time, and he’s back to being really unhappy now that you won’t talk to him.”
Jacob’s breaking my heart. He doesn’t know how badly I want to talk to Aiden. Or how badly I want this all to be as simple as Jacob seems to think it could be.
“Jacob—” I start.
He interrupts me. “No, don’t make some excuse.”
“But I—”
“Just don’t.” His voice holds very adult finality in it and he frowns. “I want to keep liking you.”
I sigh and let my shoulders droop. I don’t know what to tell him. Apparently he doesn’t want to hear anything I have to say. Anything that’s real, anyway.
“Okay, Jacob.”
“Okay?” His voice goes up with the question like the hopeful little boy he is.
“Yes, okay.”
He leans forward and widens his eyes. “Okay, you’ll talk to my dad?”
Is that what it takes? “Yes, I’ll talk to your dad.”
“Will you kiss him?”
“What?” I feel my cheeks get red. “I’m not going to tell you that.”
He giggles. “I think he’d really like it if you kissed him.”
“That’s none of your business,” I say, but start laughing before I’m through saying it, which makes him laugh more.
A knock on the door makes us both stop laughing.
Jacob looks at me like he’s in trouble, and I wonder if he’s right and there’s something he hasn’t told me.
I open the door, and Aiden’s standing there. And I’m an idiot because I’m wearing pajamas and have no makeup on. He looks adorable in khaki pants, a black, collared knit shirt, and loafers. He’s beautiful and perfect and I realize how starved for the sight of him I’ve been these past couple of days, not to mention the very real way he haunts my dreams only for me to wake up and realize it wasn’t real. He hasn’t been real since Friday night. Until now.
“Hi,” I say, wanting to say more.
“Hi.” He meets my eyes with a wounded expression and quickly looks away. “Is Jacob here?”
“Yes, he is. Please come in.”
I stand back and hold the door open as Aiden comes through, keeping careful distance from me. The cells of my body reach toward him, but he’s past me and into the living room before I can find any plausible reason to touch him.
His voice takes on a loving sternness I haven’t heard from him before. “What are you doing here, Jacob?”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he mumbles, staring down at the backpack in his lap and playing with the zipper.
“Your mother and I need to know we can trust you to be where you’re supposed to be.”
Jacob nods. “How did you know I was here?”
Aiden sits down next to his son. “Your mom called and asked why you weren’t there yet.”
Jacob’s head snaps up. “Did you tell her I was missing? Is she freaking out?” Genuine alarm rattles him.
Aiden sighs. “No. I told her we were running late. I…suspected…where you might have gone. I used the “Find Your Friends” app to find your cell phone and here you are, at Miss Evie’s house.” Aiden looks embarrassed when he says this, as if he doesn’t want me to know that I’m enough of a topic of conversation between the two of them that Jacob would think to come here. It’s silly, of course, because Jacob’s here, so I already know. And knowing Aiden likes Evie isn
’t part of the problem. I am.
“Come on, buddy. We’ve gotta go.” He stands and takes Jacob’s backpack from him.
Jacob stands, but he says, “Not yet.” He turns to look at me. “Miss Evie, are you going to talk to my dad like you promised?”
I feel myself blush. Aiden must hate me. But I said I would try. “Yes.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Aiden is saying. But then he stops and looks at me, and I wonder if he wants to give me a chance to change his mind.
I want to change his mind, of course, but he has no idea who I am and that’s not fair to him.
“I understand,” I say, bobbing my head and facing Jacob. “Besides, your dad has a lot to do today for the restaurant.”
“Today’s his day off,” Jacob volunteers.
“The restaurant’s closed on Mondays,” Aiden murmurs. I should have remembered.
“Well, it sounds like he doesn’t want to talk.”
Aiden turns toward me. The look on his face squeezes my heart. “I’d talk.”
I take a deep breath. Didn’t I just try to do the noble thing in getting out of this? Why am I getting roped back in? And wanting to.
“Great,” I say. “Let me just get ready.”
Aiden nods slowly as if he’s deciding whether to really commit to this endeavor. “Okay,” he says finally. “I’ll go drop Jacob off at his mom’s and swing back by to pick you up.”
“Perfect,” I say, even though it’s anything but.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
When Aiden comes to the door again, this time I’m ready. I’ve showered, put on makeup, and dressed in a casually elegant red blouse and jeans.
“I’m surprised you came back,” I blurt out without thinking.
Aiden sighs and his shoulders slump. My stomach twists. I know he’s unhappy because of me. “So am I, to be honest.”
“But it’s all part of the master plan.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “What?”
I shrug. “Jacob’s.”
He almost laughs, but thinks better of it and just nods. “I hope you don’t think…that I put him up to coming over here…or anything.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Good. Because usually I take being dumped quite well.” He smiles wryly, and I laugh. Any woman would be an idiot to dump him. I’m an idiot. But I’m also in a coma, so I’m not technically available.
“Will you drive me somewhere?” I ask him. He angles his head at me. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
∞∞∞
On the short ride to the hospital, my insides are a churning mess of nerves. I hardly say anything, and Aiden doesn’t speak at all, perhaps sensing that whatever conversation we’re going to have to fulfill my promise to Jacob will come after this meeting.
He’d be right, but I have no idea what I’m going to say then, either.
As we walk into the building and through the hallways, I’m scrambling hard to think of what I’ll say to Laurel, and how I’ll account for Aiden’s sudden appearance and how to explain away the fact that Laurel will recognize Aiden’s name and say something about him being the boyfriend of a comatose woman he’s never actually met.
Yeah, this is going to be bad.
But bringing him here is the only thing I can think to do. In some weird way, I need him to see me—the real me—so I can face his rejection and feel the way I should really feel. Not the beautiful, powerful way I feel when I’m in Evie’s body, where I’m tempted to enjoy the things—like Aiden—I haven’t actually earned.
When we get to my hospital room, I’m relieved to see that no one’s there. For a split second I wonder if this means Laurel has given up on me, but when I hear the beeps of the machines working, I think maybe she feels guilty about what she’s going to have to do in a few days and doesn’t want to spend time here, thinking about it too much. My heart folds in on itself, and I try not to cry. I don’t want her to feel guilty for any of this. It’s my fault, not hers. And she has enough to worry about.
I step into the room, and Aiden follows me closely. I’m sure he figured out on the drive where we were coming. I wonder what he’s thinking, and if he thinks I’m crazy for bringing him here, but I don’t really care. There’s no chance for us to be together. At best, we can have a conversation to fulfill a promise and find some closure so we can move on. Him to a better, truer relationship, and me to the afterlife.
I go to my bedside, but I hesitate a few feet from it. I don’t want to touch my hand right now, in front of Aiden. Just in case.
But he walks past me, all the way to my body’s side and stares down at the still me like he’s Prince Phillip looking down at Sleeping Beauty, after having fought his way to her side.
“She’s really important to you, isn’t she?” he asks.
I hug my arms in front of me. “Yes.” I hesitantly take a couple of steps forward. I want to see what he’s seeing.
There I am, lying still on the narrow hospital bed. The IV and feeding tube and sensors are still attached. The bruises have faded. The cuts have healed. My body looks gray and deflated, perhaps the most gray it’s ever been. But besides that I look like me with no makeup on, maybe after weeks of the flu. Me on a bad day. And it’s a very bad day.
“Wait, I know her.” Aiden grabs my arm, an urgency shining in his eyes.
“You do?”
“Yes! It’s Julianne.” My name on his lips makes my mouth fall open in shock. Aiden knows me? He remembers me? Oblivious to my reaction, he continues. “I see her every morning at the coffee shop I go to, In the Cup.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, she works…worked there.”
He lets go of me and stares down at Julianne—my old body—his face a mask of sadness. When he speaks, his voice is hushed and rough. “I’ve been wondering where she’s been. Wished I had a way to get in touch with her. I should have asked. Tried.” He hangs his head. “I just thought she’d quit. Moved on. She was too full of light for that place, anyway. And here she is—hurt, suffering—your friend the whole time.” He swallows and glances back at me.
“Yes.” I walk to the foot of the bed, stumble on my own feet. “Did you know her well?”
He takes a breath and blows it out. “No. Not as well as I would have liked.” Color rises in his cheeks. “We’d exchange small talk. I’d get out of bed in the morning thinking about her. She’s why I went there. She always had the biggest smile and this sparkle in her eyes that, well, made me feel connected to her. This inner glow. Overwhelming spirit.”
Goose bumps run up my arms at his choice of words. Spirit. He raises his eyes to mine. “Funny thing is I felt the same thing about you when we met. A sparkle in your eyes that just got to me.”
My chest floods with a swamp of emotions, and my heart is beating faster than I can take. I feel like if I breathe I’ll make this illusion of Aiden knowing me for the real me evaporate.
“I don’t understand.” He shakes his head again. “I mean, here she is, someone I’ve missed and been wondering about, and then I meet you and find out she’s your friend and has been in a coma this whole time. Unreal.” He inches closer to my body and takes Julianne’s hand. Nothing happens, of course. But for a second I wonder. “What happened?”
“A truck tried to pass a slow-moving vehicle. Got into her lane and slammed into her Prius head-on.” A shudder goes through me, remembering the accident. The moment I stopped being me.
Aiden gives me an odd look. Did I say too much about the accident? “That’s what the paramedics on the scene said, anyway.”
He nods. I can almost feel the support of his hands wrapped around mine. That isn’t my hand, though. Not anymore.
“It’s…awful, seeing her like this.” He raises his eyes to mine. “I can’t believe the coincidence of it. When you’ve always reminded me of her.”
“It is strange,” I murmur. Riotous thoughts ricochet in my brain. I—as Evie—reminded Aiden of myself? Is it my soul he fell for and
not just the prettier package?
“It’s like the universe is trying to tell me something.” He tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s worried for me. He cares about me. And not Evie-me. Me me.
What’s going on here?
He pats my body’s hand again with tenderness. How can he have hidden feelings—for me? I’ve had all these feeling for him for months, and I never knew. I never knew how he felt about me. I never knew there was hope.
Could he have loved me? For, well, me?
“Evie?”
Laurel’s voice behind me makes me jump—like it always does. I must have a guilty conscience. There’s a question in her voice and I know it’s because of Aiden. She doesn’t know him, and she doesn’t know why he’s here. I don’t know what I’m doing.
He gently lowers my body’s hand onto the bed and turns around with a polite smile.
I try to head everyone off. “Laurel, this is Aiden, my friend—and Julianne’s, you know—and Aiden, this is Laurel, Julianne’s sister.”
“I thought Laurel was your sister’s name,” he says to me.
“It is.” I manage a strained smile to everyone. “They’re both named Laurel.”
“You have a sister named Laurel?” the real Laurel asks.
“I do.” I nod. “It’s quite a coincidence,” I add before she can say anything. “And this is Aiden,” I repeat and gesture to him.
A smile and a look of almost relief light up Laurel’s face. “Aiden, I’m so pleased to meet you.” She shakes his hand, and he holds it between both of his before releasing her.
“And I you. But I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
Laurel nods and clasps her hands. I wonder what she’s thinking.
“How do you know Evie?” she asks.
I break in before he can answer. “I worked at his restaurant. Crazy small world, huh?”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” she tells him. He smiles and glances at me, and I can tell he thinks she’s heard about him from me.
“Good things, I hope.” He says this like he’s honestly wondering what I would have told Laurel about him.
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