I nod again and lean down to look through the window to the passenger side so I can see both her and Finn. The loving kindness emanating from the two of them makes me feel like no bad guardians could ever reach me through all this goodness. “Bye you guys, thanks.”
When I go back into the Fields and Morris building I find that Justin has left for the day. He said something earlier about his lease being up and he and his roommates having to pack and move. That’s why when Mr. Fields rushed into our conference room this morning and asked if one of us could deliver some documents to the San Jose court before noon, I volunteered. Apparently the courier didn’t show. I was happy to have something to do other than mindless scanning anyway. I sit down, alone now, in the conference room, ready to resume scanning documents from the file box I started on this morning but as I search around for the open box I was working on I see that it’s gone. I look under the table and over near Justin’s workspace and it’s not there either. Maybe somebody closed it by mistake and put it back in the “to do” stack. I pull up the last-scanned files on my computer to remind myself what the documents were so I can match the year and case to the leftover files. I nod my head, remembering, when I see the files. They were documents from estate cases from over ten years ago and the last one I was working on was for a woman named Esther Winchester. I remember thinking that “Esther” and “chester” rhymed. I open the boxes stacked next to me and flip through the files. They’re all from more recent years. Where did the box I was working on go? I place a flag on the file in the system and note that it’s incomplete and then I start on a new box. I’ll have to ask Justin about it later.
My mom picks me up and when I relay the story about Archie she commiserates but she admits she always hoped I’d get a newer, safer car sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, two complicated real estate transactions she was working on just fell out of escrow before closing, so any help in contributions to the “car fund” department will have to wait. Maybe it’s the rawness at the thought of replacing Archie, but when I consider it from a practical standpoint I don’t really need a car for now. Between Liz—and soon, Finn—driving, I’ll always have a ride. And I can bike or take the bus if I have to. I’ll save the money I would have otherwise put toward gas and oil changes. Maybe it’s a good thing. Or maybe I’m fooling myself and I inherited my mom’s way of searching for a silver lining.
I drive over to Charlie’s house at seven in my mom’s car and when I see Molly’s BMW parked in the driveway my stomach drops. Ugh. It was so nice the last few times I’ve been here when she was gone to France to visit her dad. Memories of Charlie throwing up pepperoni pizza and cherry Slurpee in my face make me shiver in my seat. I hope to God Molly hasn’t been in charge of watching him again before I arrived.
I ring the doorbell. When the door opens, Molly is standing there as if she never left, giving me the stink eye. Nice to know Paris hasn’t changed her.
“Oh, it’s you,” she says blandly.
“Hi Molly, you’re back.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” she says as she opens the door wider to let me in.
I stifle a smile. Maybe she gained a sense of humor in Europe. There’s a stretch of awkward silence as she watches me take off my shoes in the foyer, so I try to make conversation. “How was Paris?”
“Fine,” she says flatly, “as long as I wasn’t near my stepmom and step-brats.”
I hesitate before asking my next question. I don’t want to get overly chummy but I feel obligated to warn her if need be. “Hey,” I try to say casually, “I’ve been meaning to ask, are you still going out with that guy Avestan?” I asked Alexander once how dark guardians can date mortals and he said they make their own rules—love isn’t involved and they enjoy mixing with mortals to further their means or simply to cause pain. As much as I don’t like Molly, I don’t want her caught up in that.
Her eyes narrow. “Why, you jealous?” Before I can answer she adds, “He would never go for you. You’re not his type.”
I cough and nearly choke, holding back my reaction. If you only knew. “So you’re not with him anymore?”
“I don’t need assholes who disappear with no explanation,” she says with a shrug. “I met a hot French guy, anyway.”
I nod, relieved. I should have known Molly would have moved on. This is the girl who cheated on her high school boyfriend with his best friend. Twice.
“You still with Mr. Australia?” she asks.
I feel a jab in my heart at the mention of Alexander. I shake my head.
“Since when?” she asks, interested.
“Recently.”
I can see in her eyes that she’s digesting this information. “Explains why I saw him kissing some blonde two days ago. Guess it didn’t take him long to move on. They were really going at it.”
Her words hit me like a speeding fist. I’m stunned, but I swallow hard and try not to react.
“That’s news to you?” she says, making no effort to hide the schadenfreude behind her eyes. “I hate to say it, but if he’s with a new girl that fast it probably means he was cheating on you all along.”
I’ll never understand why people say “I hate to say it” right before they say something they obviously relish imparting. My heart is still doing a slow freefall through my body when Charlie runs into the foyer and sees me.
“Declan!” he yells out as he barrels over to give me a hug. I kneel down to catch him and he nearly bowls me over.
“Hey big guy, I’m so happy to see you,” I say and I mean it even more dearly than usual as I hug him tight, trying to forget Molly’s words.
“Declan, you’re here!” I peer up to where the voice is coming from and see Mrs. Bing descending the curved staircase. She’s dressed to kill in expensive heels and a body-hugging dress. “How nice that you and Molly get a chance to catch up. She just arrived back a few days ago.”
Molly mimics gagging and sticking her finger down her throat as she walks away.
“Could you make Charlie dinner?” Mrs. Bing asks as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. “You can pull something together from what’s in the fridge. I should be home after midnight. I’ll text you if I’m running late.” As Mrs. Bing runs through the rest of the instructions for me, I’m hardly listening and her words start to meld together into meaningless mwah mwah mwah sounds like the adults in Peanuts cartoons. All I can think about is Alexander kissing someone. Here. In San Mar. Mrs. Bing said Molly got back a few days ago so it had to be here … but I thought he was supposed to be halfway around the world? Why didn’t he contact me? None of my tormented thoughts get very far because I can’t stop the image playing in my mind of him kissing someone else over and over. I feel sick to my stomach. I want to chase after Molly and grill her for details but I won’t give her the satisfaction.
Maybe she’s lying?
I grasp at that straw with everything I’ve got.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I haven’t tried to contact Alexander since he left. We promised we wouldn’t unless it was an emergency but now I can’t help myself. I want to call him, right now, and demand to know what’s going on. But will his phone even work where he is?
It sure as hell will work if he’s here in San Mar, rather than halfway around the world.
Dark, angry thoughts waft over me. How could he do this? Did he lie about where he was going? Does he consider himself free to date other people? As if we’re broken up for real? Maybe that’s why he told me I should consider myself free …
As I wrestle with the possibilities, puzzle pieces snap into place in my mind. Alenna supposedly left two days ago. Alexander was here, kissing some blonde, two days ago. The words “they were really going at it” play over and over in my mind like a chisel scraping a groove into my heart. Could it have been her? What other blonde would he be with? Are they back together? Would Alenna do that to me? Would Alexander?
He said not to communicate while he’s gone but I don’t care. I need to talk t
o him, right now, damn any consequences.
I yank out my phone and pull up his number, I’m going to—
“Declan? I’m hungry. Can I eat now?” asks Charlie, breaking through my fury.
I look over at him and take a deep breath. I’m babysitting. I left Charlie in front of the TV. I can’t pace around going nuclear when I should be focusing on him and giving him the attention he craves. Not to mention food. When I look at his innocent little face tilted up to me right now asking for dinner it makes me want to hug him tight and protect him from all the hurt in the world.
I take another deep breath and realize I need time to think this through first, anyway. Why is my first instinct to believe Molly and not trust Alexander? I’m feeling blindsided.
I set the phone down.
“Sure, sweetie,” I say as I take Charlie’s hand and we walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator. My heart sinks when I see the contents. It’s barren, save for about twelve Be Thin! protein shakes and a plastic container of celery sticks. Inside the crisper there’s a yellow onion, a head of broccoli, and a bag of romaine with a “use by” date of two weeks ago. I look in the pantry for some soup or something edible I can turn into a meal for Charlie but all I find is a box of Cheerios, a can of mushrooms, and a loaf of bread with its best days behind it. I give up. Maybe I should order a pizza.
“You want pizza?” I ask Charlie as he hugs my leg. I fight back revulsion at the mere suggestion after the pepperoni pizza and Slurpee fiasco but I’m feeling desperate and they deliver. We could order a veggie special and drink water.
“Had that for lunch,” Charlie says, looking up at me.
“Chinese food?” I ask.
He cocks his head to the side. “Is that the one with the noodles?”
“It can be.”
“I had that tomorrow,” he says.
“You mean you’re going to have it?”
“What’s the day that already happened?” he asks, peering up into my eyes.
I smile. “Yesterday.”
“I had that yesterday,” he says.
I sigh and open the refrigerator again. There’s a carton of eggs I didn’t notice the first time.
“How about an omelet?” I ask Charlie.
“No.”
“Do you know what an omelet is?”
“No,” he says again.
“You’ll like it,” I say. “I know you will.”
“How do you know?” he asks.
“Because of the way we’ll make it, with fungus and trees in it,” I say.
He looks intrigued.
“And worms,” I add, drawing out the word to make them sound especially dangerous.
His eyes go wide and his jaw drops open. “Really?” he asks with delight. “Molly will never eat that!”
I laugh. “No, I bet she won’t,” I say. “But we will. We’ll love it. Help me make it and you’ll see.”
We rinse and cut the broccoli “trees” and I show him how the long, curvy onion slices turn into “worms” as we sauté them in a pan with some olive oil. We add the mushroom “fungus” and finally the eggs. We top it off with some “bugs and dirt” (salt and pepper) and Charlie eats it up, literally and figuratively. The best thing is, I managed to distract myself for almost an hour from what’s eating me up inside. After we finish, before I can begin to stew over Alexander again, Charlie asks to play some games and that’s what we do, non-stop, until it’s time for bed when I read him stories until I nearly drift into sleep before he does. I’m exhausted, both physically and mentally.
It’s late when Mrs. Bing returns and after she pays me I sit in my mom’s car for a long time, pondering what to do. I need to talk to Alexander. I’m tied up in knots and I won’t be able to sleep unless I do.
Screw this stupid plan, I’m getting some answers.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I pull up to Alexander’s house and sit for a few minutes in the car, wavering. It’s late. I can’t just go knock on the door and wake up Edwin. He’s old. He’s probably been asleep for hours. But are old guardians like old people? Or are they young inside?
Who knows? Why am I even thinking about this? All I know is, I need some answers and I’ve abided by this plan long enough. With my mind resolved, I get out of the car and walk up to the front door, but before I can press the doorbell the door opens.
“Edwin?” I say, startled, as he stands before me in a tailored robe and slippers.
“Come in, Declan,” he says, a little resignedly. I glance behind me to see if anyone’s watching us as he stands aside to let me in.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask as he leads me to sit down in the kitchen.
“I was reading,” he says. “I felt your angst when you drove up.”
I’m a little taken aback. I’m so upset he sensed it through the walls?
“I can feel that you want to talk to me about something,” he says.
I nod. “I do,” I say, as all the stress I’ve been holding in floods over me like a waterfall, causing my eyes to well up. “But I’m sorry to come here so late.”
Edwin takes a deep breath and places his hands over mine on the table. “I know all this worry is taking a toll on you,” he says. The understanding and kindness in his expression make me want to cry even more. “But the plan is working,” he adds.
“It is?” I ask, meeting his eyes.
“Yes. Avestan left yesterday.”
I absorb this information. I’m surprised and not sure how to react. Then I remind myself what drove me here. “Edwin, did Alexander break up with me for real?” I ask.
“Is that what he said?”
“No, not in so many words. But he left it … ambiguous.”
Edwin nods. “Consider it part of the plan.”
“Was it also part of the plan that he was here in San Mar two days ago?” I ask. “And he didn’t even tell me? Or try to see me?” My words spill out in a pain-filled rush.
Edwin meets my eyes, looking sad but understanding. “Yes.”
“What about kissing some blonde?” I ask, my eyes welling up. “Was that part of the plan, too?”
I detect a micro-flash of surprise in his eyes. “Where did you hear that?” he asks.
“Molly Bing saw him.”
Edwin remains still, pensive. After a stretch of quiet he answers. “Part of the plan.”
“Was it Alenna? The girl that he was kissing?”
Edwin meets my eyes. “Declan, I know this is hard—”
“I need to talk to him, Edwin. Please. I need him to call me—”
He shakes his head. “Now would be the worst time to reach out, Declan. Avestan just left. The plan is working. And Alexander can’t be distracted. I know you wouldn’t want that.”
I don’t answer. No, I don’t want to distract him. Defeating Avestan is the only chance we have to be together. But my heart is breaking inside with all this uncertainty. “But I need some reassurance, Edwin,” I implore, “that he hasn’t forgotten me.” My voice cracks as I say the words.
Edwin cradles both my hands in his. “Declan,” he says, “I’ll admit I don’t know about the kiss. But I do know that Alexander could never forget you. He loves you too much, dear.”
I peer up and meet his eyes. Their depths are so kind, and truthful.
“Can you ask Alenna about it?” I ask.
“She isn’t here.”
Because she’s with Alexander.
“Do you trust Alexander?” Edwin asks quietly.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then trust that he loves you … and that everything he’s doing is part of his plan to come back to you. After he’s done what he needs to do.”
I nod and tears spill down my cheeks. He’s right, I do trust Alexander. I know how much he loves me. I just need to remind myself of that. No matter what Queen B said she saw. I stand up from the table and walk over to Edwin and hug him. I know he’s not always terribly effusive but he hugs me back, holding me
tightly. “Now, now,” he says, patting my back, “are you feeling better?”
“Sort of,” I say as I wipe away the remnants of wet tears. “How long do you think it will be until Alexander comes back?”
“As long as it takes,” Edwin replies. When he sees my expression he adds, “Give it another week, at least, and then we can talk again.”
My heart leaps in my chest. It might only be another week? I hug him again with a tear-stained smile on my face. “Okay,” I say. “I can do that. Thanks, Edwin.”
He walks me to the door and watches as I get into my mom’s car. After I start the engine I turn back to wave but I see that he’s no longer looking at me. His mouth is set in a firm line, preoccupied, as he closes the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I won’t lie and say I’m not still brooding over that kiss. I know Edwin was right when he reminded me to trust Alexander, and that’s what I’m resolved to do, but it was hard to sleep last night and it’s impossible to get it out of my mind. I convinced Liz to go with me on my morning run, even though she detests running. I’m thankful for the distraction of her company, which keeps my wandering thoughts at bay.
“What are you up to the rest of the day?” asks Liz as we near the beach.
“I’m working at the shelter and then I promised I’d help Justin, from work, move. What about you?”
“Finn said he has a surprise planned.”
I smile.
“You know what it is?” she asks, looking at me.
I smile wider.
“Tell me,” she insists. “We go back and forth planning dates for each other and when it’s his turn, half the time his surprises are so sweet and romantic I just want to grab him and kiss him, but the other half of the time we end up at the Jet Propulsion Lab in Palo Alto for a discussion of the Higgs-Boson particle.”
I laugh. “He told me about that and I have to tell you, he conjured an analogy involving quantum entanglement and the way he feels about you that was pretty moving actually.”
“I know,” she says with a smile, “he told me. And the lab visit was actually interesting, I have to admit. I love learning about that stuff, it’s just not what I was expecting for a date. He doesn’t understand that you can’t just spring that shit on someone out of the blue when they’re expecting dinner and a movie.”
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