Ten Thousand Points of Light

by Michelle Warren

  “Yeah, they don’t need to know it’s a mental vacation.”

  I give her a dirty look.

  “What? It’s true.” She circles the couch and places the package on my lap before collapsing into the chair opposite me.

  “What’s this?” I glance down. It sits heavy on my knees.

  “A gift,” she pauses, “from Evan.”

  CHAPTER 54

  I place the package on the table and fold as far away from it as possible. “I don’t want it,” I tell her.

  Aggie sighs. “Aren’t you a little bit curious? Don’t you want answers?”

  “Whose team are you on, anyway?” I wrap my arms around my knees and hold them tight.

  “Look around.” She gestures to her apartment. “Clearly I’m on team happy.”

  “You know what team I’m on,” I grumble with a frown.

  “Yeah, but team doom and gloom has already controlled years of your life. Don’t you want the other team to win someday? Isn’t that why you moved here? For a new start?”

  I know I can’t ignore this issue forever, but right now I’m too angry to accept anything from Evan.

  She continues, “It’s been two weeks. I understand you’re hurt, but don’t you want to know? You spent three years with Evan. You used to love him. Don’t you want know why?” A sharp V forms on her forehead.

  “Three?” I settle my chin on my knees, and my heart pangs at learning this little bit of information. I’ve been tempted to make Aggie tell me everything, but I’m still too furious to hear Evan’s excuses.

  “I’m not ready,” I say, resolute.

  “Okay. No problem.” She leans forward and snags Evan’s gift. She stands and crosses the living room and opens the window, allowing the freezing air to rush in with some arrant snow flurries. The curtains billow in the breeze, and I shiver. With package in hand, she dangles it over the ledge and turns her attention to me. My eyes widen when I imagine the package plummeting seven stories to the ground.

  “Stop!” I leap to my feet.

  She halts with an impish grin and sings, “Only if you open it right now.”

  “Dammit, Aggie.” I stomp my foot and clench my hands into fists. But she’s not giving in. When she pretends to release it, my insides freeze. Before she can do it again, I say, “Fine.”

  She tosses it back. It flies across the room in an arc, and I fumble to catch it. With it safely in my grasp, I give her the stink eye.

  “I’ll make us drinks.” She’s smiling and unaffected by my annoyance. She snaps the window shut and continues, “I have this great new recipe called the Slutty Snowman.”

  I have no clue what she’s talking about, but she’s leaving me, heading for the kitchen. And right now, away from me is the best place for her. She sets up a blender and gathers ice from the freezer while humming.

  I sink into my seat with the package on my lap and inspect it. As I do, I bargain with myself. Even if I open it, it won’t matter what’s inside. Nothing could change what he did. At the acknowledgment, I allow my finger to trace the edges. Wrapped within the tissue paper, I find curves and hard ridges. The exploration leaves me with a good idea of what’s inside. And as Aggie’s blender buzzes behind me, I tear away the paper to confirm my suspicion. They’re books, except these aren’t any books. I recognize the stack of three journals as my own.

  I rest them on the coffee table and consider what’s inside—drawings I haven’t looked at in years. I’d forgotten about them until now. How did Evan get them from my parents’ home? Why did he send them? Before I look inside, Aggie places a frozen drink in my hand.

  “It’s snowing and you make ice cream drinks?” I ask.

  “Alcohol is appropriate in any situation. Don’t you think it’s cute?”

  Not only has she been mothering me, she’s been trying to cheer me up. This drink is proof. Two stacked blobs of ice cream sit atop a tall glass, looking like a snowman. The drink looks back at me with chocolate chip eyes, waving peppermint arms and his... what’s that near his crotch? One M&M on either side of a...

  “It’s a pretzel stick penis,” she says with a smirk.

  “Klassy with a K, Aggs.” I pluck out the pretzel stick and toss it across the room. “That’s what I think of penises right now.”

  “Viva la lady balls!” She does the same and then lifts her castrated drink for a toast. I toast her back and take a sip through the snowflake straw, making a point to compliment her, even though it tastes awful. The second one is better, and by the third, now Slutty Snow-woman, I’m smiling and giggling with her about her recent love adventures with Paul.

  “Thank you,” I tell her as we stand at the window watching the falling snow.

  “For what?”

  “You’ve always been here for me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been a better friend to you. I don’t deserve you, Aggs.”

  “I’ll forgive you if you give me a room in your new house.”

  “My house.” I grimace and use my fingertip to draw the outline of a box into the foggy condensation on the window. I add a roof, a chimney, and a front door. But when I’m done, I wipe it away with my hand.

  Any chance of a commission is on hold, and maybe indefinitely if I never return to G&W. This saddens me. I love my job, I love Chicago, and I don’t want to be anywhere else. At least this one truth rings clear in my mind. I belong here. This is my home.

  “Linden says Lakeman’s still in play. It may work out, but not as fast as you’d like,” she says.

  “Maybe I should visit him.” Not only do I need to figure out where I stand with him, but I need to pay my bills.”

  “See, clarity comes with drinking.”

  “But mostly stupidity.”

  We return to the couch. The books remain on the coffee table, untouched. I stare at them before building enough nerve to ask Aggie a question that’s been bugging me all night. “Will you tell me one more good thing about Evan and me... from before?”

  “You sure?” She sets her glass down.

  I nod, unable to make eye contact.

  She tucks her legs under her butt and faces me, appearing excited. “You’re the only person he’s ever been with.”

  My heart double thumps before my gaze swings to her. “But he told me...”

  She’s already shaking her head. “The. Only. From what he’s admitted, he’s tried to forget you without much success. I think he’s been subconsciously waiting for you.”

  I am the other girl. The only other person he’s touched. It was always me.

  She continues, “It’s very romantic.”

  “How’s that romantic?” I tug at my lip with my teeth.

  “Because you moved here and fell for him all over again. It’s like destiny gave you a second chance to pick up where you left off.”

  I trace the starburst pattern on the sofa cushion. I’m unsure of her assessment. Without knowing, did I return to Chicago because of him? Am I in love with Evan? My heart thumps again, but I ignore it. Even though I was offered the job here, no one made me take it. I’m sensing I need to talk with him, despite everything. I’m not saying I can forgive him, but how I can I move forward without answers?

  After Aggie goes to bed, I take one book and settle it on my lap. I suck in a deep breath before I flip open the cover. I settle a hand on the drawing on the first page, trying to remember what I felt when I originally drew it. The memory from after rushes back.

  At that time, I had no reference for why I drew what I did. Sometimes I would press my pencil to paper, allowing the lines to lead me wherever they wanted. Sharp angles and soft curves dictated the final image.

  But looking at them now with fresh eyes, everything has become clearer. From the beginning of the first book to the very last page of the third, I’ve drawn out what I suspect is the history of my relationship with Evan. This is why he gave these to me. He wants to prove to me we were real and some part of me always knew it.

  Within the pages, I find the story of fr
iends, laughter, companionship, travel, school, parties, family, a lot of sex, and I think love. And on one of the last pages, I find two figures standing in front of a little white house. My house on Astor Street. I had drawn this image before I ever laid eyes on the house after.

  CHAPTER 55

  I halt mid-step at the knock on the front door. Aggie left for work hours ago, and I’m not expecting anyone. They knock again, more insistent this time. I tiptoe to the peephole, but before I can even determine who it is, a voice speaks from the other side.

  “It’s Linden.”

  I look down at myself and grimace. It’s a miracle I’m showered but...

  “Open up,” he says.

  I groan. He knows I’m here. I release the clanking chain and locks and open the door to face him. He’s dressed as he always is, a trim suit, a silk tie, and three-thousand-dollar shoes. Today he has a long black wool coat folded over his arm, which is dusted with snowflakes.

  When he sees me, he throws his head back in a deep laugh. My arm circles my stomach to hide my shirt even though I expected his reaction.

  “Don’t cover up on my account. I love big sweatshirts with cats shooting lasers from their eyes.”

  With an eye roll, I step aside and allow him in.

  “I ran out of clothes and you know Aggie’s closet is a preteen’s wet dream. It looks like Katy Perry exploded on it.” I close the door.

  “So does her apartment.” He glances around and pauses to scowl at the shiny and hot pink balloon animal sculpture in the corner. He drops his coat over the sofa.

  “What are you doing here?” I take a defensive stance.

  “I saw you on the schedule for a meeting today but I thought it would be better to talk outside of the office.” He’s pacing the apartment and stops to grimace at Aggie’s giraffe collection.

  “So you could explain the very unprofessional way you tricked me into accepting a job in Chicago? And the very calculated way you set me up in an apartment building with an old boyfriend you knew I wouldn’t remember?”

  His attention returns to me. He appears shocked. “Trick? No. Calculated? Very much so.”

  He finds the least offensive place to sit, a chair at the kitchen table. I take the seat across from him. For once, even in my pajamas, I’m not afraid of him. It’s him who’s in the hot seat. I tap my finger on the table, waiting for him to explain, but I can’t wait.

  “It’s like you’re proud of yourself,” I bite.

  “I am. Very proud, actually.” He gets comfortable and settles his foot on the opposite knee.

  He’s preening, which makes my temperature rise.

  “Clarify how you have no remorse? I’d like to understand how you justify giving me a fake job, a fake apartment, and fixing me up in a fake relationship with your brother.” My hand swings.

  “Fake job? No. You graduated at the top of your class. You had an excellent resume with superb interning experience at the best agency in DC. You’re the most qualified candidate I’ve ever interviewed. So I hired you, and you’re great at what you do. That’s not fake.”

  I relax a little, settling into my seat. “So you’re not here to fire me?”

  “Of course not, but I do need your ass back in the office on Monday. Lakeman’s on hold, but Rosemary Cosmetics is looking for a space and I need you on the deal.”

  “I’ll think about it. Go on.” I roll my lips in on themselves to hide my relief.

  “And as for the Evan part of the equation, that’s more complex.” His foot drops to the floor and he leans forward. “But I’ll tell you this, he didn’t ask me to bring you here. I did it on my own. In fact, the morning you moved in was the exact moment he found out what I did.”

  “Why?” I shake my head.

  “I thought it would fix things. Fix him. It may have been calculated but I stand my decision.” He drills his finger into the tabletop.

  “Does he stand by your decision?” My brows rise.

  “Hell no.” He laughs. “Don’t misunderstand, he was beside himself with joy to see you but at the same time, he wanted to kill me. I didn’t exactly give him a chance to react. I told him to act like he didn’t know you. I think he was in too much shock to think for himself.”

  I recall the day I moved in and the fight I overheard between them. I never knew what it was about, but now I do. It was about me.

  He continues, “So it was done. I set him up in the same way I set you up. Think of it as a really unconventional blind date.”

  I lean back in my chair. “How can I get your apology if you don’t think you’ve done anything wrong?” I complain.

  “I want to see one of the most important people in my life happy. Blame me if you want, but my intentions weren’t malicious. I didn’t force you to talk to each other. You did that all by yourself. I simply made sure you lived in the same zip code.”

  “More like a petri dish.” I fold my arms.

  “And look what it grew.” He leans back with a shit-eating grin. He’s proud of himself.

  “So you think it’s okay that you lied about knowing me?”

  “I had faith that if something happened between you and Evan, he’d tell you the truth. He’s a good guy like that.”

  “Is he?”

  “Cait, he’s the best. I promise. Ask him yourself. See what he says about all this.” He glances at his watch and stands, pushing the chair back. “So Monday, I can expect you back?”

  “With a thirty-thousand-dollar raise.” I stand to meet his eyes.

  “Damn, I love the way you think, but no.” His eyes twinkle. “I can do twenty. That’s it.”

  “And I want your office and an expense account.”

  “When you close the Rosemary deal, I’ll personally make both of those things happen.” He reaches out and I shake his hand, keeping my grip as firm as his.

  I lead him to the door. He picks up his coat on the way. Before he leaves, he reaches out and presses a piece of cold metal into my palm. It’s a key.

  “You should visit his apartment. You did live there for several years. As far as I can tell, your room hasn’t changed since you were there. See if it helps, you know, remember anything.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I try to give the key back, but he won’t accept it. He waves me off.

  “Evan’s not there. He’s staying somewhere else for a while. He doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t go home.” He glances around and shrugs. “I mean, unless you like living in Aggie’s clown house.”

  “It’s not what the apartment looks like, it’s who lives here.” I open the door.

  “And I’m glad you have her, Cait. Aggie’s good people.” He pats me on the arm.

  He steps over the threshold to leave but hesitates. He turns and says, “About you and Evan—if it helps to know—you were good together. The best, actually. You were the couple everyone wanted to be. You guys had the relationship I wished I had with Viv. It seemed so effortless. And after everything you’ve both been through, it would be a damn shame not to see if something was still there.”

  CHAPTER 56

  Daylight gives way to darkness a little too early in December for my liking. My hands clench the handles of Ozzy’s wheelchair. I push him beneath a canopy of bare trees entwined with twinkling holiday lights.

  We park at the railing that encloses the ice rink in Millennium Park, and I seat myself on a wooden bench beside him. From here, we can watch the ice skaters glide in wide circles around the border, while silhouetted skaters twirl in the center of the glowing white ice.

  We’re bundled for the cold weather in scarves, hats, and feather-quilted coats. I’ve tossed a thick blanket over his lap for extra warmth since there’s a crispness in the air, signaling the threat of more snow.

  “I have some bad news,” I say with a heavy heart.

  “I’m afraid I have some of my own. But you first.” Ozzy places a reassuring hand over mine.

  “My deal fell through. It’ll be a
little longer before I can buy the house.” I glance at him to gage his reaction. The last time we spoke he seemed happy I would give the old house the love it needed.

  He clicks his tongue, indicating disappointment. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know you worked real hard on that client.”

  “I’m sorry too.” My guilty gaze falls. It was cocky of me to plan so far ahead. To be so sure I would get what I wanted.

  “My news isn’t great either,” he admits. “But know I wanted the house to be yours.”

  My heart seizes at his words even though I’d been expecting this. I’ve been mentally preparing for weeks. Still, I can’t bring myself to glance at him. If I do, I may fold.

  “I’ve received another offer, and the truth is, even though I’ve been putting off selling it, it doesn’t make financial sense anymore. I need to let it go.”

  I nod, though I’m still processing. The house will never be mine. I remain stoic. I suck in the crisp air and lift my chin. I’ve come to realize things happen for a reason, and there will be other houses. Maybe even one that’s better for me, although I cannot fathom the thought right now.

  “I understand,” I murmur, telling him what he needs to hear. “It’s a good thing. Even if I’m not the one to fix it up, I hope another person will. Maybe even a family.”

  “That would be nice.” Deep crease lines sprout from the edge of his eyes and the corners of his mouth.

  “I knew you’d understand,” he says, “but I hope it won’t change our relationship, because I’m kind of dependent on those chocolates. It’s an addiction.”

  He shakes his body, mouth open and arms clawing the arm, like he needs a fix. I laugh and lean into him, bumping his shoulder to mine.

  He continues, “And I’d sure miss you something fierce.”

  “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me and my chocolates.” I place my arm around his back and squeeze. I understand the reason this happened. It wasn’t the house I needed in my life, it was Ozzy. We needed each other.

  CHAPTER 57