“Then we’ll keep trying,” he says gamely.“Thai takeout?There’s a new place we can order from and have delivered to your place.”
“That would be perfect.”
We spend the rest of the trip back to my new home trying out names for the little black cat while I fervently avoid looking at Aiden.
It’s a lot harder than it has any right to be.
7
Sylvie
The movers are nearly done by the time we get back to the bookstore.I have to keep reminding myself that it’s my new home.
Not even an apartment, not really, because it’s mine.
I own it, through some weird stroke of luck that I never in a million years would have believed would happen to me.
I don’t think I’ve ever won anything before, not even the potluck chili contest my library hosted.Although, honestly, my mint brownies deserved to win the dessert portion.
Whoever said chocolate and mint don’t belong together should probably have a tastebud replacement.I feel more sorry for them than the cilantro-tastes-like-soap people.
“You okay?”Aiden asks, glancing up from the delivery order that nearly beat us to the apartment.
“You like cilantro, right?”
“Uh,” he pauses, narrowing his eyes at me.“Yeah?”
“Good.We can’t be friends if you don’t like cilantro.”
He tips his head back and laughs, then shakes his head.“Glad I passed that very weird test.Alright, let’s eat.”
He guides me up the back stairs, and I soak in the adorable entry space of my very own brand-new (very old) home.Wrought-iron railing, a black and white tile floor, and creaky wood stairs that I am incredibly thankful I didn’t have to move anything up.
“I don’t know how I managed to get this lucky,” I tell Aiden, likewise grateful I’m no longer just talking to myself.“Like, this all just… fell into my lap.My mailbox, quite literally.It’s the weirdest thing ever, and I’m afraid if I think too hard about it, it will all just disappear.”
“This place has been empty ever since I moved here four years ago,” Aiden tells me.“I don’t know how you managed to luck into it either, but I think you must be the right person for the job.How else can you explain it?”
“Do you believe in fate?”I ask him, then wrinkle my nose as I walk through the arched opening that leads into the main living area and kitchen.“That’s almost like asking if you believe in magic.”I laugh at myself.“But yeah, I don’t know who owned it before me.It’s been in trust for decades, apparently.Maybe longer.It was hard to get any information on, honestly.”
Which annoys the hell out of me, as someone who prides themselves on their research ability.
The kitchen table I’ve had since senior year of college sits in just the right spot for it, the mismatched chairs I’ve collected and refinished over the years pushed into it.The kitchen itself is full of boxes that need unpacking, and I’ve never been happier to get to eat takeout without guilt than this moment.
In fact, I’m pretty damn happy all around.
I set the paper bags full of cat accessories down, knowing I should feed the skinny black cat before I dig into my own spicy drunken noodles.
The minute I crack the can of wet food, the cat comes running, tail held high in the air as she makes the funniest little mewling yips of excitement.
While I fill up her new water bowl, Aiden surprises me by dumping the litter into the box and putting it in a small, empty closet near the bookstore door.
“You did not have to do that,” I tell him.
“Well, I spent today with you instead of cleaning my toilet, so I had to satisfy the urge somehow.”
I bark a laugh, surprised at the callback to my earlier inane comments about cleaning the bathroom, and after we’ve both washed our hands, I pass out our food like we’ve been friends for years now.
Which is weird, right?
