Page 98 of Nothing Less than Magic
And then she’s gone, leaving me alone with a smile blooming in my chest.
Chapter 26
Last night, I tried to channel Knox in my dreams. I thought he’d fade with time, but it hasn’t happened. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of him. About his coffee, his unvarnished truths, and the closeness we shared.
It’s crazy, irrational, but I can feel it in every fiber of my body. If Knox were real, he’d never leave. Ever. It’s so instinctual that in moments of pure panic, I wonder if perhaps I’m the one who is in a dream. It’s actually a thing. Depersonalization-derealization disorder, an out-of-body experience, or the sense that things aren’t real around you. In layman’s terminology, you feel like you’re living in a dream. Except in this case, the dream is real.
Or is it?
I’m going to drive myself mad.
“Can you do February ninth for our makeup in Albuquerque?” Ronnie’s got her hand over the phone’s mouthpiece and motions to me that’s it’s my lecture coordinator.
“Uh, I don’t know. Do we have to decide right now?”
“Kind of. That’s the only day the room is available. Otherwise, we have to wait until August.”
“Okay, book it for the ninth.” But my heart isn’t in it. I keep telling myself that once I get back on the road, everything will click in place. I just need to find my groove again.
“What about the sixteenth for Phoenix?”
“No, that’s Taylor’s birthday.” Lolly sent me an invitation. She’s hiring a mini circus to come to the house, which is so Lolly. I want to shock her by actually showing up. “What about LA—can we book there on the seventeenth?”
“You’re in LA in March.”
“March what? I’ve got Uncle Sylvester’s and Wallace’s anniversary in March. We’re going out for dinner. I can’t miss that.”
“March twentieth.” Ronnie is looking at my calendar. “Your dinner is on the fourteenth, so you’re fine.”
“Wait, March twentieth is the Western Days Festival in Ghost. I want to go to that. You know what? Let’s put the bookings on hold for right now. I can’t deal with this; I’m going home.”
I slip my purse over my arm and walk out. It’s so out of character for me that I almost turn around and go back in. Ronnie has to be sitting there, slack-jawed.
What if I don’t want it anymore? Any of it. What if the picture of the life I thought I wanted looks different now?
I drive home in the pouring rain, making my way through the soggy city, pondering the idea of second chances. The days are supposed be getting longer, but except for the light coming from an occasional streetlamp or the headlights from the cars in front of me, it’s already dark.
Austin won’t be home for another few hours. He hasn’t even moved in yet, but my house has become his again. We have morphed fromhe and Iback to awe.
It’s Wednesday, his night for dinner, which means he’ll either get sandwiches at Whole Foods near his office or grab a pizza at Tony’s. I used to like the constancy of it, how the routine made him feel reliable, like he was a sure thing.
But tonight, I’m in the mood for nachos and smoked chicken wings and a Ghost Ghoul. And a kiss that’s a prelude to a new life. Maybe it’s the one I’ve always wanted and just didn’t know it until a streetcar knocked me on my head.
I punch the code into the gate, pull into the garage, and sit in the car, listening to the rain pelt the overhang outside. Then I call Lolly.
“What if I quit?”
“Quit what?” she says.
“Everything.”
“Where are you?”
“In my car in the underground garage of my condo.”
“Go upstairs, take a hot bath, and get a good night’s sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“What if I don’t?”
