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To Vex and to Hex

Page 76

by Neena Noon

“You can talk with me,” Grayson said in Urdu. A thrill shot through her. “It can be our secret language.”

His accent was pretty atrocious, but it wasn’t like hers was much better.

“Okay,” she said, giggling. “Also of course you took Latin—you’re so pretentious!”

He laughed. “It’s fascinating! But definitely a bit pretentious. I’m afraid my uncle put me up to it, though it is cool to read original texts, then the translations, to see how much is lost and how much is changed. So much of language is just, like, trying to translate complicated thoughts and emotions, just trying to be understood.”

“It definitely is that,” she said. “It’s why I love reading—it’s like trying to find yourself in snippets of other people’s thoughts and writings, proof that you’re not alone, the only one to feel this thing.”

“Yes! Exactly! It can be extraordinary to read books from hundreds of years ago and find yourself among the pages. Really portrays the timelessness of the human condition. We’re forever blessed and cursed to love and lose, to be happy and sad, and everything in between. But at least, at least we are not alone.”

They continued talking as they ate. She found she missed being nice with him, the way they were during the truce, before Christmas.

She had missed him these two weeks, which was startling.

She tried not to think about it too much. Things were good right now. She wanted them to stay like that.

Outside, it began raining, and she watched through the window, smiling to herself. He turned around to see, and the corners of his lips tilted up.

“I love the rain,” he said.

“Same,” she agreed. “But only when I’m at home and cozy.”

“Precisely. If you’re caught out when it’s raining, it’s kind of terrible.” He looked at her closely. “I figured you’d like sunny days more since you’re so sunny yourself.”

“Nooo, I like autumn and winter and spring but not summer much, even though my birthday is in July. Who likes being hot?”

“We don’t even get that bad a summer in Ireland, it’s usually just really nice, at worst a little too warm. There’s this saying that if you don’t like the weather, just wait five minutes, it’s constantly changing.”

“Do you miss it?” she asked, curious. “It was your home for so many years.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, really. There’s no one to miss. I can miss the place but it’s not the way I used to miss here when I was younger. That was more me missing my entire life, though, the way things used to be.”

Lucy knew how difficult it had been for Charles when his daughter died. She’d heard so much about it from him, but she never really considered how gut-wrenching it must have been for Grayson, who was only six at the time.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It must have been awful.”

He clenched his jaw, looking away. Even so, she could see his eyes were shining.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quiet. He cleared his throat.

“Charles talked about your mom a lot,” Lucy said. “She sounded wonderful.”

“She was … the best.” He looked so sad. Lucy reached over and squeezed his hand. He gripped her fingers with his.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel this way, but it’s really beautiful, how much you loved them. I know it makes it harder now that they’re gone. But how much you miss them just shows how much you loved them. How loved you were in return.”

If her parents died tomorrow, she didn’t know how sad she would be, which in itself was sad.

He looked at her, blue eyes warm. “You’re right,” he said. “It was a blessing to have had it.”

They finished eating and chatting, and after, he paid the bill. She offered to split, but he gave her a simple no, tone clearly communicating it wasn’t up for argument. And when was she ever one to argue?

They walked out together, and he stayed with her until she got to her car, rain slick against their faces.

“Goodbye,” she said, getting in. He leaned over to wave at her through the window, and suddenly, with perfect clarity, she remembered him sitting in this car beside her and the way she had kissed him on Christmas morning, when the world was covered with fresh, pure snow.

Chest feeling tight, Lucy waved goodbye and drove away.