Page 59 of Exes Don't

She’s right. We’ve always come and gone freely from each other’s spaces.

Her eyes are on my package as she walks into the kitchen. “Whatcha got there?”

“Nothing.” I say it too quickly, and I can tell she’s even more interested by the way her eyebrows rise up under her bangs. “Actually, I’m not sure what it is.”

“Open it!” Poppy pulls out a stool.

“Don’t you have something better to be doing right now? Something with Mack,” I add pointedly.

“Rose Marie Kasper!” Poppy’s cheeks flush.

“What? I’m just saying.”

“Well, he had to run out to the job site to check on something this morning.”

“Ah, so I’m a consolation prize.”

“No.” Poppy eyes me carefully. “You’ve never been that, and I hope you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I brush off her concern. This is not the first time I’ve sensed Poppy trying to work out what I’m really thinking. Too bad for her, I’m a professional liar at this point—so much so that even I don’t know what I’m thinking.

“You know how much I love a good present.” She rubs her hands together. “Let’s see it.”

“Fine.” I use the edge of the scissors to slice into the packing tape that’s securing the creasesof the box.

“Who’s it from?” Poppy stands and walks around to the coffee carafe, helping herself to a mug.

I debate lying, but there’s no way I’ll be able to pull it off. Not when she’s looking over my shoulder.

“Anton.”

“Anton? Anton Bates? As in the man whose football game we’re going to see in a couple hours?”

“You know another Anton Bates?”

“I don’t knowanyAnton Bates.” Poppy takes a sip of her coffee, waggling her eyebrows at me. “But it seemsyouknow this one…quite a bit more than you let on. Spill.”

I peel back the flaps of the box. “There’s nothing to spill. I knew him in Mobile—briefly. I was hired to write an article on him here. I’m sure this has something to do with the job.”

Then again, maybe not.

I pull away the tissue paper, and there, folded neatly in the box, is a winter jacket. Not any winter jacket, though. This one is periwinkle and branded with the River Foxes logo. I lift it delicately out of the box, and directly over the heart, there’s a number four patch. Turning it around, I feel my cheeks flush. Bates is spelled out in a curve along the back in letters that mimic the team’s official jerseys. Actually, it’s almost like someone took a jersey and transposed it onto this jacket to make a one-of-a-kind masterpiece.

“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.” Poppy reaches forward and feels the sleeve. “Looks warm and cozy too.”

I swallow around a lump in my throat, because it sure does. There’s a white envelope sitting at the bottom of the box, and I lift it out, thumbing my finger underneath the seal. I turn so Poppy can’t read the note.

Dear Rose,

I’ve made you cold enough this week with the Polar Plunge, so I wanted you to have something warm to wear to the game today. I know you said you might pick up some of the opposing team’sjerseys to wear, but the thought of that made me want to die. So, I had this made for you. One of the guys’ wives does this with jerseys. She custom-made it yesterday. I hope you love it. I hope it keeps you comfortable. Thanks for coming…means a lot to me, even if it is for the article. I’ll look for you.

Always,

Anton

I read his note three times over. Poppy, mercifully, stays silent, and she turns back to the coffee maker and gives me a second to compose myself.

Because this is all too much. Too thoughtful.

---