Page 89 of And Now, Back to You

After Delilah fell asleep last night, I spent a lot of time lying in the space next to her, thinking. She believes this is some sort of personality experiment. I need to prove to her that’s not true.

I can be patient.

I drop my hands from her face. “You look like a cupcake with those pink pants.”

“A cupcake?” Her forehead scrunches. “I don’t want to look like a cupcake.”

“Why not? Cupcakes are sweet.” My eyes flick down to her mouth. “Cupcakes are delicious.”

She shakes her head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Both can be true.”

Delilah, despite her hesitations last night, doesn’t seem to be holding it against me this morning. When I woke up she was already in the shower, a cup of coffee waiting for me next to my glasses. A Post-it, right next to it, with a smiley face. I stared at it for a long time while listening to the water run in the bathroom, feeling like a balloon was lodged somewhere in my sternum.

My phone buzzes across the table where our notes are stacked, distracting me from the woman still wrapping herself in winter gear on the floor next to me. I check the ID.

“Maggie is calling,” I tell Delilah. “I’m going to take it in the hall while you finish up. We can go down to the lobby when you’re ready.”

“Oh.” Delilah looks up at me from her knees, elbow deep in her suitcase as she searches blindly for something. “That’s fine.” She holds up a pair of goggles that matches hers. “Do you want me to bring these for you?”

I shake my head. “No, thanks.” I keep my attention firmly fixed at a spot just above her head. My dark thoughts are winning. Honestly, the hot pink pants should be more of a deterrent than they are.

“You sure?” she asks. “You might regret it.”

I shake my head with a tight smile. I think I’d regret looking like the Terminator even more. We’ve given the people of Baltimore enough to talk about without adding matching snow gear to the conversation.

“I’m good. I’ll see you in a minute.”

Eager to be somewhere that isn’t a cozy hotel room with Delilah in the middle of it, I make my escape to the hall and swipe at my phone.

“Hey, Maggie.”

Silence greets me on the other end of the phone, then, “Why are you breathing like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a caveman.”

I wander down the hall to the window at the end of it, leaning heavily against the frame, my forehead pressed to the thick glass. All I can see is white, the towering evergreens and the sweeping view of the lake hidden behind a blanket of snow. The storm slowed just as we were expecting. Outside the window, Deep Creek is getting absolutely pummeled.

I’m not faring much better.

“I’m breathing the same way I always do.” I dot my finger against the glass, drawing a line in the frost clinging to the edges. “What’s up?”

“We have a problem,” she says.

“Which one?”

“The biggest, most annoying one,” Maggie says. “Keith is turning out to be a giant fucking problem.”

I drag my hand over my forehead, pressing my thumb and index finger against my temples until I see spots. They’re still cold from the window. It’s not as soothing as I want it to be.

“Delilah told me her conversation with him went fine. What’s he doing?”

“What isn’t he doing?” she grumbles.

“Maggie.”