Page 44 of The Soul Never Forgets

“Then there you go. Instant bottoms.”

“We’re trying to resist the temptation to have sex. Me wearing a T-shirt and panties in bed with you doesn’t promote abstaining.”

“You saw me last night. I was out cold for a solid ten hours. I didn’t move a muscle all night. When I woke, I was literally in the same position that I was in when I went to sleep.”

He has that much right.

“Fine. Give me a damn shirt.”

He goes to a chest of drawers and takes out a Rolling Stones T-shirt, tossing it at me. “There’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer on the left. The pink one. I bought it for you today. And I’m happy to empty out a drawer for your things whenever you’re ready. All you have to do is tell me.”

He is thoughtful. But I never expected anything less.

“Let’s get you unengaged from another woman first, and then we’ll talk about emptying out drawers and leaving personal items at each other’s houses.”

“That’s fair.”

I go into his en suite bathroom and change out of my clothes, replacing them with his T-shirt. I bring the neck to my nose and inhale deeply. The shirt smells clean like washing detergent but also just like him––mild musk with hints of cedarwood and patchouli. The fragrance is captivating.

Be careful, Caroline.

He is your soul mate, but don’t allow your decision to be swayed by how good he looks or smells or feels. You insisted on doing things the right way, so it’s important to stick to your guns.

I tug on the hem of the shirt when I come out of the bathroom. I’m pretty sure he gave me the shortest one he owns on purpose.

“You look way better in that shirt than I do.”

“I’m a sucker for band T-shirts, and this one is super soft, so I might keep it.”

“Take it. It’s yours if you want it. Or better yet, leave it here and wear it whenever you sleep over.” He smiles. “It suits you.”

I crawl into bed beside Dawsey and tuck the covers beneath my arms. “I feel that I must warn you. I’ve been accused of hogging the covers. And the bed. You could wake up with me on top of you.”

“I wouldn’t be mad about it.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be.”

“I’ve been told that I talk in my sleep,” he says.

“You do, and to my surprise you do it quite clearly. I can’t wait to hear what you say tonight.” I was thoroughly entertained last time.

“Did Frank talk in his sleep?”

“No. That trait is all yours.”

I reach for the journal on the nightstand and thumb through it, skipping over my recordings during the time Frank and Augustina were apart, and stop at the night they reunite after being apart for two and a half months. “You’re going to have a very good night. That is, if this works and you go to the time I’ll be reading about.”

“It’s going to work.”

“Don’t have so much fun that you decide to stay there and not come back to me.”

“I’ll always come back to you, Cara.”

“You’d better.” I find my place in the journal. “The date is September 6, 1939.”

Chapter10

Frank Harrison

---