“You expected me?”
“When the book disappeared.”
“You probably shouldn’t store them in a nest,” Corinthia said, unable to stifle her inner librarian.
“It wasn’t being used anymore,” Rosemary pointed out, as if borrowing a bird’s nest for storage was a perfectly normal thing to do.“And it’s convenient for holding things when I’m walking around.”
“I could help you get a library card,” Corinthia said, clinging to what still made sense, which was always books.
Rosemary’s hand rested on Corinthia’s arm, strong fingers and a warm palm.“I know,” Rosemary said, and when she said nothing more, they both lay in silence for a minute.
Corinthia tried to understand what had happened—why she had gone back to the Refuge, why Rosemary said such strange things—but under the touch of Rosemary’s hand, all those thoughts seemed far away, as if viewed through the wrong end of a telescope, tiny and lacking detail.
“I should go,” Rosemary said.She moved her hand away and sat up.“I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
Corinthia had no fondness for getting in trouble, but when Rosemary stood, Corinthia’s heart sank like it had fallen overboard.Corinthia got up and offered her hands to help Rosemary step out of the tub.
Rosemary took Corinthia’s hands and alighted.Then, after helping Corinthia in turn, she placed her arm through Corinthia’s, and, arm-in-arm like old friends, they walked toward the exterior door.“Do you like the scrub jays?”Rosemary asked.
“Like them?I suppose I like them as well as the next person.”Sensing something more was required, and slightly befuddled by Rosemary’s closeness, she added, “Actually, I think they’re very pretty.”
Rosemary’s gaze dropped bashfully but her smile grew wide.
They reached the exit, and Corinthia let go so she could open the door for Rosemary.
When Rosemary had exited, she lifted her gaze to meet Corinthia’s again, and it was full of mischief.“This is the second time you’ve shared your chocolate with me.”
“Last time you blew me a kiss goodbye,” Corinthia said; and this level of daring was quite new to her.
“I could do that again.”
“Would you?”Even Corinthia didn’t know if her response was doubt or request.The night air couldn’t enlighten her, though it rushed through the open door all the same.
When Rosemary chuckled with sweet good humor, Corinthia assumed the declaration had been entirely rhetorical.
Until Rosemary softly cupped Corinthia’s face, went on tiptoe, and brushed her lips against Corinthia’s.
There were lights sparkling all around, but Corinthia had closed her eyes, and somehow the sparkles became a delicious tingling sensation on her lips; the foundation of the library had disappeared and she was standing on sand; and the roof was gone and starlight fell like soft, cold rain on her skin.The world turned itself inside out and upside down and Corinthia didn’t know whether she was falling ill, falling down, or falling in something else entirely.
A breeze whispered across her skin.She opened her eyes.
Rosemary was gone.
The souvenir t-shirt and Stevie’s stretchy pants lay in a heap on the ground.Rosemary herself had completely and utterly disappeared.
Corinthia looked left.She looked right.She turned in a circle.She scooped up the clothes and went back inside.She looked in every tub.She peeked down every row of shelves.She glared, finally, at the origami birds over the reference desk, because if they knew anything, they certainly weren’t telling.
Corinthia put her hands on her hips.
“And she forgot her book,” she said to the empty room.
9
Corinthiaattemptedtoexplainthe incident over the phone to Stevie the next morning as Beaufort’s tail whipped back and forth in anticipation of a walk.She adjusted the phone between her ear and her neck so she could bend down to put on shoes.
“Let me get this straight,” Stevie said.“You borrowed my clothes?”
“Yes.”
