Page 26 of The Roommate Subtext

Unfortunately, that’s what worried him. Better change the subject. “I’m surprised you don’t live with your sister.”

“Cora and I only get along because we don’t live together. When we were younger, we could have killed each other.” She paused, her expression softening. “We tried living together as adults after our parents died, but it wasn’t good for either of us. I thought she needed me, but she needed space. And I needed to give her space.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I still struggle with that.”

“It’s normal to want to take care of your siblings.” He added the last of the stock. “I’m sure she’s grateful.”

“Yeah, I know she is, even if she doesn’t say it.” Maggie eyed him. “What about you? Siblings?”

“There are three of us in total. I have two sisters: one older, one younger.” He gave the risotto another stir. A long stretch of silence followed. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say. “We’re not close,” he finally added.

“I wanted a little brother. I used to ask my parents for one every Christmas.” Maggie smiled, expression wistful. “I guess it’s normal to want whatever you don’t have.”

“That’s the truth.” Blake watched the simmering rice. He’d spent so much time wanting what he didn’t have. Wanting a career he loved, wanting meaningful relationships, wanting a girlfriend who shared his passions. He had the career and he had some close friendships, and that should be enough. “I’m trying to learn to be content with my life as is.”

“I think I’ll always be chasing something. Always restless.” Maggie got up, the stool scraping along the floor. She leaned past him to peer at the risotto, her chest pressed to his back. Maybe he was being foolish, ignoring whatever attraction sparked between them.

And maybe he would unwittingly end up featured in one of her articles. Everything’s content.

“You don’t seem restless to me,” he said, his voice quiet.

She stayed too close to him, and even without looking, he could feel the intensity of her gaze. “Give it some time. Eventually, I get back to wondering if this is all there is.”

Blake avoided eye contact by focusing on the risotto. “Are we talking about life after death here? Or midlife crisis stuff?”

“The day-to-day minutiae. Work, eat, sleep, repeat.”

“I try not to think about it.” He was successful about not thinking about it, most of the time. Blake wasn’t much of a philosopher, even if you counted the ethics course he’d taken in college. Plants were immediate, requiring air and water and food and sunlight, and humans weren’t much different if you got through all the other messiness. He comforted himself with that idea when he got too much in the weeds about romantic relationships and love and how his life lacked both. “It doesn’t really matter if life doesn’t mean anything. Do what you want. Find simple joys. Et cetera.”

Maggie took a small step back. “I guess that’s comforting.”

“Cheerful nihilism, Andrew calls it. Nothing means anything! It’s freeing.”

“I don’t know if I agree,” she began, a long pause at the end of her words like she was going to make a case for a different point, but he interrupted.

“You don’t have to.” Blake stirred most of the grated cheese into the rice and smiled placidly in her direction. He uncapped the bottle of white wine he’d used in the risotto, which only had a few mouthfuls left anyway, and swigged some straight from the bottle before offering it to her.

Maggie laughed. “I guess I don’t.” She took the bottle and finished it with a long gulp. “How about I set the table and get the rosé, and we don’t talk about the meaning of life?”

Blake took the pan off the heat. “Sounds perfect.”

Maggie had expected the Greenway to be busy, what with the first touch of autumn in the air and the perfect bluebird sky, but damn, that was a lot of people. She stood at the edge of the expanse and scanned in all directions, taking in trucks with bubble tea and dumplings, tacos and falafel, dessert trucks and artisanal French fries, and her stomach rumbled its appreciation. Lines snaked along the sidewalks and across stretches of grass, and in every shady spot, couples and families sat, eating from brown paperboard boxes and laden paper plates. It wasn’t quite one o’clock, so she sat on one of the benches near the fountain where she’d agreed to meet Cora. A gust of wind blew a light mist of water her way, the droplets catching sunlight before dotting her skin. She dried off her sunglasses on the hem of her blouse, squinting in the early afternoon brightness.

“Hey!” Cora’s voice made Maggie turn. She jogged up, beaming, her hair down in loose waves. She was exactly Maggie’s height, close enough in age and appearance that people always used to ask them if they were twins, right down to the same dusting of freckles over their noses. They still got that treatment from time to time when they went somewhere together; damn those strong St. Claire family genes. Cora wore immaculate jeans and a slim-fit purple button-down with tiny ice cream cones printed all over it. Maggie was about to comment on the dressed-up look when she got distracted by a perky brunette jogging up a few steps behind Cora. Maggie slid her sunglasses back on and got to her feet.

“This is Vanessa,” Cora said, blushing, gesturing to the woman now at her side. “Vanessa, this is my sister Maggie.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” They shook hands, and Maggie couldn’t stop herself from grinning. Apparently, this was why Cora had been shifty about the timing.

“Are you sure it’s OK I crash family food truck day?” Vanessa looked between them. “It was sort of spur-of-the-moment. Cora said you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not. It’s great to have you.” Maggie gave her best raised-eyebrow look at Cora when Vanessa turned away, and Cora’s blush deepened. Vanessa ran off to get a map, giving Maggie a moment alone with her sister.

“Before you complain,” Cora jumped in, “I didn’t plan this.”

“I’m not going to complain,” Maggie said. “I wanted to meet her, didn’t I? I just didn’t think it’d be this soon. Did you have a brunch date this morning?”

Cora winced and turned away, mumbling something.

“What?” Maggie asked.