by M. Ullrich
When she stepped into her living room again, she smiled at the reminders of Casey’s time there. An easy happiness washed over her, and that was the feeling she wanted when she walked into her home. She started straightening the room, pulling the sheet from the couch to wash it. As she snapped the dust out of it, the sheet flew behind her and knocked two of the four bud vases from the bookshelf. She winced when they crashed to the floor.
“Dammit.” Eva threw the sheet down and grabbed a dustpan and broom from the kitchen. A small pillow of dust hung in the air above the ceramic casualties. As she bent to clean up the mess, a small shimmer caught her eye amongst the debris. Eva pushed the jagged pieces of a vase aside and uncovered a key. “Holy shit.” It had no distinct identifying markers, but she knew exactly what it unlocked.
Eva rushed to the basement door but froze before she could do any more. She couldn’t figure out where her fear was coming from. Eva tried to focus on reality. Her uncle wasn’t alive down there, and nothing down there could cause her physical harm. At the worst, there’d be another disgusting mess to clean up.
She tried to shake her hands free of their jitters. “I need a drink,” she said to herself. After pouring herself two fingers of whiskey, Eva drank slowly and considered the basement. She’d get in and get out. She didn’t have to linger. All she really needed was to find her uncle’s paperwork for the house and his will, if he had one. “Simple enough.” Eva threw back the rest of her drink and set her glass down before putting the key into the lock and turning it smoothly.
She took a deep breath and opened the door to complete darkness. The light from the kitchen didn’t reach far down the staircase. Eva grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight. A small lightbulb hung in front of her, but nothing happened when she pulled the chain to turn it on.
With warm whiskey loosening the tension in her neck, Eva started to descend the stairs. She held her breath most of the way, worried an unwelcome stench was about to greet her. The wooden steps creaked beneath her feet. At the bottom of the stairs, Eva felt along the wall and flipped the first light switch she touched. Bright fluorescent lighting blinked to life. She looked around in wonder. Luke’s locked-up basement was not what Eva expected.
The open space had a sterile, untouched appearance. Only one desk occupied the far wall, and overflowing bookcases lined the rest. The only bits of the room that appeared unkempt were the pile of books that wouldn’t fit on the shelves, and the corkboard hanging above the desk, nearly hidden behind hundreds of newspaper clippings and drawings. An empty worktable sat in the middle of the floor, toolboxes neatly stored beneath it. A rickety filing cabinet was tucked beneath the staircase. Eva shook off her stupor and went to that cabinet before touching anything else.
Each drawer was filled with labeled and blank files, and Eva thumbed through them all in search of personal paperwork that’d clue her in to what would happen next in her life. Finally, in the bottom drawer pushed to the back, was a file labeled Lawyer. Eva pulled the folder out and threw it on the table. A business card for a local attorney was paper-clipped to the inside of the folder. Eva would be calling him first thing the following morning. The rest of the file held every piece of information she needed to close the book on Luke’s life: property deeds, a last will and testament, and even the paperwork that had come along with Eva. She let out a grunt of disgust and turned back to the rest of the room.
The impressively large basement was fully finished, and Eva could see it as a game room or entertainment space—if she ever had anyone to entertain. Six years ago, she’d have thought maybe Casey would have some friends to invite over for a dinner party, but now she wasn’t so sure. Was Casey unable to make more friends because of what Eva had done? Hard to imagine the most popular girl in high school not being surrounded by friends. Hard to imagine Casey being more like Eva and only having one true friend to turn to.
As Eva bent to take inventory of the toolboxes beneath the table, hoping for a few pricey tools she could sell to a secondhand store, her phone rang in her back pocket.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” said a rumbling deep voice.
“Max, how are you?” Eva was not surprised by his call, considering the way she’d left. “How was the show Friday night?”
“Missing you.” He could’ve been speaking for himself or the company, but Eva didn’t ask for clarification. “Any idea when you’ll be coming back? I received a call this morning from an up-and-coming designer. They asked for you specifically.”
Eva leaned back against the railing to the staircase. Designers asking for her by name? That was the dream, the ultimate promise Max made to her when she started on this journey with him. “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to make it back. Things are a little crazy here right now.”
“It’s a quick commute. I can even send someone to pick you up.”
“When are rehearsals?” Eva bit her thumbnail.
“Wednesday and Friday afternoon, Saturday is the show.”
Eva remained silent. She was apprehensive and reluctant to agree without considering her to-do list and her blossoming relationship with Casey. She had mentioned the possibility of continuing her modeling career from New Jersey, but was that what she really wanted?
“I need to give them an answer today,” Max said.
The truth of the matter was that she needed the money. “I’ll do it, but I can’t stay late on Wednesday. I have a prior engagement that evening.” If the designer wanted Eva so badly, they’d have to work with her schedule. She wasn’t about to give up a date with Casey for a modeling job.
“I’m sure we can make that work.” Silence stretched on, and Eva wasn’t entirely sure if Max had more to add. She was about to say her good-byes when he spoke again. “Sara has been asking about you.”
Eva bit back a laugh. Bright-eyed Sara was a breath of fresh air around the studio, if not a little too eager. “What did you tell her?”
“After I found out you didn’t leave the poor girl your number, I told her you were tending to business back home and would eventually reach out to her.”
“I’ll talk to her Wednesday if I see her. Do I need to bring anything?”
“Just your beautiful self.”
Eva smiled. Max was always very sweet to her, so maybe continuing to work with him wasn’t a bad idea. “I’ll see you Wednesday, Max.”
As soon as Max hung up, Eva dialed Casey to share the news. Eva saw great importance in sharing every bit of her life now with Casey. Their relationship was reborn in a sense, and she was determined for it to be built on a solid foundation. After just one ring, Casey answered.
“Miss me already?”
“I missed you the moment you drove away.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one, then.”
“Are you back at school yet?” Eva said.
“Almost. What are you up to?”
“I found the key to the basement, so I’m exploring.”
“Alone?” Casey’s tone was filled with alarm.
Eva laughed. “It’s okay. Believe it or not, Luke kept the basement immaculate.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“I’ll send you a picture later.” Eva walked up to the corkboard and started to read the newspaper headlines. Each and every one was about an unsolved robbery. What struck her as odd was the dates of the incidents. They spanned from the 1960s to less than a year ago.
“Eva?”
“What?”
“Did you hear me?”
“No, I’m sorry,” Eva said as she went to the bookcases. “There’s a lot of distractions down here.”
“I asked if you could send me a picture of your tits later, too.”
Eva’s cheeks warmed. “Casey McClellan, are you asking me to sext you?” She pulled a binder from the shelf, but it slipped out of her hand.
“I’m still wet from saying good-bye.”
“Fuck,” Eva sighed. “Me too.” When she picked up the binder, a sheet o
f paper fluttered to the floor. Eva saw what appeared to be schematics of some sort. She grabbed the paper and spun it around and around until she thought it was upright.
“Do you have any idea what we’d be doing if I hadn’t left?”
“Probably sorting through all of this crap, because you’re very good about keeping me on task.”
Casey’s laughter sounded loud through the phone. “I’m trying to be sexy, Eva.”
“You don’t have to try. Even imagining you here cleaning with me is enough to turn me on.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Casey said with a giggle.
“So, I just received a call from Max.” She folded the corners of the paper as she nervously awaited Casey’s response.
“Oh?”
“There’s a show coming up, and the designer asked for me specifically.”
“That’s great, right?”
“Yes, but I wanted to check with you to make sure you’re okay with it. We have rehearsal on Wednesday.”
“What about—”
“I already told him I wouldn’t be able to stay late. I have a hot date that night.” Eva imagined Casey’s smile growing significantly. “Being with you is more important than some fashion show, no matter how good the pay is.”
“I want you to be happy,” Casey said. “I don’t expect you to forget about everything you had in New York or drop the responsibilities you had there. And I hope you didn’t expect that of yourself, either. You can have both, Eva, you don’t have to choose one life or the other.”
Eva let the sheet of paper swing back and forth from between her fingertips like a blade as Casey’s words settled in. No one had ever supported her the way Casey did, not since her parents died. “I’ve always loved you. You know that, right?”
“I had a feeling back then, but it’s wonderful to hear you say it now.” The clicking of Casey’s blinker filled the silence of the moment. “I’m about to park, and I know once I get up to my apartment Lizzy will have a hundred questions about my trip home. I’ll talk to you later. And, Eva?”
“Yes, Casey?”
“Don’t forget to send that picture.”
Eva shook her head and laughed as she disconnected the call. She placed her phone on the table and turned her attention back to the bookshelves. She looked at the paper in her hands and then to the books. All of them were scientific textbooks: general and quantum physics, studies on Einstein, and astrodynamics, among others. Eva looked at the countless binders, their spines labeled with dates that meant absolutely nothing to her, except one particular label because she had just read the date elsewhere. She rushed back to the corkboard and found the corresponding newspaper clipping from 1998.
She stepped back and realized there must’ve been a hundred binders. Her voice came out shaky as she wondered aloud, “Luke, what were you up to?”
Chapter Fourteen
Casey bounded up the stairs to her apartment building, taking them two at a time. The building did have an elevator, but Casey had so much energy the exercise would do her good. She threw her duffel bag down the moment she stepped through the door and walked to the kitchen. The last meal she ate was breakfast, and she was near starving. She grabbed a peach from a bowl on the counter and took a bite.
“Casey?” Lizzy called out from her room. “Is that you?” Casey chewed quickly, trying to swallow so she could answer. “Or is it a murderer?”
Casey rolled her eyes. “What’s with you and murderers? Like a murderer would actually answer you.”
Lizzy came rushing down the hallway. “It’s worth a try.” Lizzy shrugged and grabbed herself a peach from the bowl. “You look happy.”
“That’s because I am happy.”
“Good reunion, then?”
“Positively wonderful.” Casey heard the swooning tone of her own voice and waited for Lizzy to fake a gag, which she predictably did.
“Must’ve been. You were a terrified mess when you left here Friday, and now look at you. You’re practically floating.”
Casey nodded but remained silent. She waited for Lizzy to ask questions because she hated when people forced their stories on others. Like when a coworker or classmate returns from vacation—no one wants to hear the entire itinerary. She threw away her peach pit and washed her hands before caving in and sharing the first details of her weekend.
“Our reunion didn’t start out very smoothly. The moment I saw her, I just started to cry.”
“Wait,” Lizzy said, holding up her hand. “Go back and tell me every miniscule detail. Did you stop home first? Call her? Knock on the door six times or four? I want to know everything.” Lizzy led them to the living room and plopped down onto the couch.
Casey sat beside her. “I stopped home just to drop my stuff off and then knocked on her front door. She answered right away and looked absolutely breathtaking. I mean, gorgeous.”
“Not what you’d expect for a teenage runaway resurfacing six years later.”
“I know, right? The last time I saw her, she was beautiful, but she was still a gangly teenager with a penchant for cargo shorts and wearing a bowler hat.”
“Bowler hat?”
“It was her thing. Anyway, after I got over her looks, I snapped. I ran up to her and hugged her, right before I had to restrain myself from punching her.”
Lizzy’s mouth fell open. “You didn’t.”
“I didn’t punch her, but there was pushing and a very dramatic, emotional display of shoving the note she left on my car back in her face.” Casey’s face was painted with shame. “But I think I did pretty well for someone who was ditched six years ago.”
“Definitely. But that’s not what put that smile on your face. The one you were wearing when you bit into the peach. Like the juices running down your chin made you think of something else.” Lizzy grinned wickedly, and Casey slapped her shoulder.
“You’re gross.”
“And you love it.”
“That was just the start of the weekend. The rest was entirely different.” Casey sat back with a self-satisfied smile and decided to actually share everything with Lizzy, not just the censored version. She went into every detail, pausing along the way to answer every one of Lizzy’s many inappropriate questions. This relationship business was new for Casey, so she indulged.
Casey told Lizzy about their first kiss. She described the way Eva touched her, and how she made her skin come to life with fire and ice. Lizzy sat enraptured as Casey told her about their morning in bed, just lying together and losing themselves to the intimacy of the moment.
“Wow,” Lizzy said. “I have one more question, though.”
“I figured you would.”
“Do you think you two are moving a little fast? You haven’t seen each other in six years, and after one day, you’re in bed talking about how the love you unknowingly shared back in high school never died.”
“No. Eva and I talked about it, and we both feel everything that’s happening between us now is six years too late.”
“But you barely know her.”
“I know her better than anyone else in my life.”
“No,” Lizzy said slowly. “You know seventeen-year-old Eva better than anyone else. Someone doesn’t run away from home and disappear for that much time without changing. It’s impossible.”
Casey glared at her friend. “We talked about who we are now and what we’ve done.”
“Okay.”
“And we have a date on Wednesday.”
“That’s great, really, and I want nothing but this happiness to last forever. But I’m a realist, and you totally love that about me.” Casey hated that Lizzy was right. “I may think you’re moving fast, but I’m glad you got laid. You were starting to get cranky.”
“Shut up.” Casey hit Lizzy with a pillow and laughed. Her amusement died shortly after, when Lizzy’s foreboding observations continued to echo in her mind.
Had she and Eva doomed their relationship by acting like the chasm in their t
imeline didn’t matter in comparison to their feelings? What if they were acting out their teenage fantasies and not seeing themselves as adults?
Eva Caldwell might have grown into a different person, but Casey McClellan clung to idea of soul mates fitting together no matter what.
* * *
Eva sat at her kitchen table with a notebook in front of her, a dictionary to her right, and her phone opened to a search engine to her left. A tumbler of whiskey sat close by. She’d spent the better part of her evening online researching the many textbooks Luke stored in the basement. They were outdated editions and worth very little. As she had sorted through the stacks, she came across a worn notebook filled with handwritten notes. She’d never seen her uncle’s handwriting before, and she was surprised by how neat and crisp it was. She could read every word he wrote, but pronouncing them correctly and knowing what they meant was a whole other ballgame.
She tapped her pen in time to the music she had filling the house as she looked over intricate drawings of what could only be described as two hoops. She had yet to figure out what they were or what Luke had planned for them, but maybe learning the definitions of the many large words he’d written would clue her into his madness. Of all the possibilities she had imagined for Luke, she’d never figured on a mad scientist.
Eva finished her whiskey in one gulp and pushed away from the table to stretch her back. The night was growing darker, and she knew she should get to bed soon if she planned on getting the business with the lawyer done as early as possible. Eva poured herself another drink. She took the bottle and her phone to the living room and sat on the couch. The new sheet she had put over the furniture smelled like laundry detergent instead of Casey. Eva was sad at the small loss.
She pulled Casey’s name up on her phone and typed out a quick message. Hi. Three little dots danced seconds later, letting Eva know Casey was replying.
Hi, yourself.
What are you doing?
Lying in bed and trying to convince myself I’m tired enough for sleep. You?